Kiss From A Rogue

Chapter 5-2

He curled his fingers around hers, raised her hand, and turned it over. With a smoldering look in his eyes, he dropped a kiss on the inside of her bare wrist.

Sylvia tried to breathe normally, not wanting her fluttering pulse to betray her reaction. No one had ever kissed her there before. It was just his mouth on her wrist. No reason his warm lips against her bare skin should send a tingle up her arm that spread down to her toes.

He let go slowly, his fingers trailing across her hand. “Now we’re ready.” He held out his arm, his eyes betraying his satisfaction, reveling in the reaction he’d provoked in her. “Shall we?”

Sylvia raised her chin. He wouldn’t have that effect on her again. She rested her hand in the crook of his arm and led the way out the door and into the black night. Jimmy and her men followed at their heels, while Galen and Gerald called out well wishes.

Tony tried to concentrate on the feel of Lady Montgomery’s hand resting on his forearm, rather than the apprehension winding through his gut. What had he involved himself in? He hadn’t felt this mix of dread and excitement since he’d followed Nick into a midnight prank against the headmaster. If this went wrong, there would be far worse consequences than a caning and stern lecture.

As they stood at the top of the cliff, buffeted by the wind, he swiped the bandage from his head and stuffed it in a pocket. With his free hand he checked that he was no longer bleeding. His fingers encountered something gritty, coarser than dried blood. Sylvia’s herbal concoction? Couldn’t tell in the dark, but the scent was pleasant.

Soon, signal lights were exchanged, and he was standing on the beach with Sylvia, her seven watchdogs, and six more men who’d come from the inn. Small boats appeared out of the inky blackness and slid with a hiss and a rasp onto the fine pebble beach. Sailors spilled out of the boats and mingled with Lady Montgomery’s men, who formed lines and began passing small casks from the beach, disappearing into the darkness by the base of the cliff. Much as he was curious about the details of the operation, it wasn’t worth the risk to ask. The less he knew, the more likely her men were to let him go as agreed.

One man separated from the group and came toward them, taking off his feathered tricorne hat and sweeping into a bow.

Assailed by the stench of stale sweat, Tony took a step backward, then recovered his lapse. Through the thickness of his borrowed shirt and coat, Sylvia’s fingers dug into his arm. He gave her hand a reassuring pat. When he saw the flare of annoyance in the stranger’s eyes, he stroked her hand with a proprietary air.

“Good evening, Lady Montgomery.” The stranger reached for her free hand, but she evaded contact by locking her fingers together over Tony’s arm.

“Good evening, Captain Ruford, but I’m Mrs. Sinclair now.”

“Mrs. … What?”

“You’re interrupting our honeymoon, so we’d like to get on with the business at hand,” Tony said.

“Married? When? You said nothing last time we met.”

Tony wasn’t sure if the captain was angry or just shocked.

“There are a great many things I have never discussed with you, Captain.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed. “How long have you known one another?”

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but the lady beat him to it.

“We met at an assembly in Weymouth. Two years ago.”

“I fell in love at first sight,” Tony jumped in. “But alas, the lady was already taken. I thought I would perish of unrequited love.” He felt Sylvia’s gaze on him. Remembering the look on his brother’s face whenever he spoke of or glanced at his wife, Tony tried to effect the same besotted expression as he looked upon Sylvia now.

With only the pitiful light of a lantern at their feet, he felt more than saw her breathing hitch, her expression change. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer to his side. Her curves fit against him perfectly, just as he’d known they would.

The captain turned his head to spit out a stream of tobacco. “Montgomery’s been dead thirteen months. What kept you?”

“And an agonizing thirteen months it has been. I wanted to wait the appropriate interval. I want no one to cast aspersions on my lovely Sylvia.” Tony leaned over with the intention of dropping a chaste but loving kiss on her cheek, strictly for the benefit of their audience. But she turned toward him at the same time, so his kiss landed directly on her mouth. They both froze for an instant.

Remembering their audience, Tony brought his hand up to cup her cheek, still kissing her. She leaned into his touch. Under other circumstances, he would have taken it further, tasted her. The captain loudly cleared his throat.

Tony pulled back. He had to grasp Sylvia’s elbow to steady her. He took pride in the fact it took her several seconds to open her eyes again. Tony suddenly realized the sailors had slowed down in their unloading of the boats, and Sylvia’s men were staring at him. Only when she flashed a look of reassurance at them did they resume their movements.

“I see you were serious about interrupting your honeymoon.” The captain spat again. “I would be just as anxious to be getting beneath her skirts. Shall we get to business, then?”

Tony took a half-step forward, putting Sylvia half behind him. How dare this piece of scum even look upon her? He felt pressure against the small of his back. He reached around, and felt a weighted cloth thrust into his hand. The purse.

“Yes, Captain, let’s finish as quickly as possible, shall we? I’ve much more important business to attend to once we get home.” Tony dropped the purse into Ruford’s outstretched hand.

“Them government lads continue to dog me,” Ruford said, hefting the purse. “I’ll need more—”

“We’ve had our own problems,” Tony interrupted before Ruford could get going. “The Revenue agents have been sniffing around the village. We aren’t going to give you any more than the original agreed-upon price, for the original number of casks. If anything, we should be paying you less to cover our increased expenses.”

By now the men had finished unloading the boats, and Sylvia’s watchdogs had gathered at the base of the cliff. Ruford’s men stood between them and the boats. The redheaded lad pushed his way to the front of the group until he stood on the other side of Sylvia. Except for the slap of waves on the shore, silence reigned for a moment.

Tony saw one of the sailors and two of the watchdogs reach for weapons at their waist. The hair on the back of his neck prickled.

“I am feeling generous,” Ruford said at last. “Consider it a wedding gift.” He waved to his men, and they began piling into the boats and heading back out to the bay.

Tony almost allowed himself to relax. A few more minutes, and his charade would be at an end. Sylvia’s men would let him go, and she’d be eager to show her appreciation for his help. He was about to become much better acquainted with Sylvia and her eminently kissable lips.

“It appears you chose your champion well, my lady.” Ruford gave her another bow, then turned his attention back to Tony. “As enjoyable as transactions with her ladyship have been, I’m relieved to be dealing with a man again. It will be much easier to conduct business with you. We understand each other, I think.”

Tony found himself calmly nodding in agreement, though he felt anything but.

Ruford leaned closer. Tony barely heard him over the stench. “Don’t know how much longer I would have continued. Can’t do business with a chit or a cub. Just ain’t right.”

Tony heard the outraged inhale from the redheaded lad at Sylvia’s other side. She forestalled his protest with an elbow to his ribs.

“Until next time, Sinclair,” Ruford said, and strode off to the waiting boat.

“But Captain—”

Ruford ignored Sylvia’s call. “Enjoy your honeymoon!” As they rowed out to the bay, the men in his boat joined in with crude suggestions of how to pass the night.

Tony wished he could cover her ears. Though he had designs on her person, a lady shouldn’t be subjected to such coarse comments.

When the darkness had swallowed up the last boat, she turned to her waiting men. “We’ll go up to the house and let Mr. Sinclair collect his things. The rest of you go back to the inn, as usual.”

There were murmured replies, and within moments Tony was hiking back up the cliff path, accompanied by Sylvia and her watchdogs. No one attempted conversation until they were on level ground, traversing a gravel path flanked by clumps of fragrant lavender, the single lantern casting menacing shadows over the wildly overgrown shrubs.

“Thank you for your assistance this evening, Mr. Sinclair.”

Tony grinned at her businesslike tone. He could pretend nothing had happened between them, too. “Your watch d— your men will follow our agreement?” He glanced at the black sky above, the stars hidden by rain clouds.

“Of course they will.”

Tony changed back into his own clothes and hurried down to the brightly lit hall. Despite the pack of watchdogs that hounded his every movement, a true rake would find a way to take advantage of the situation, not to mention the widow. With her husband dead more than a year, she must be lonely for company by now. Lonely for more youthful companionship, at any rate. And her reactions to his advances so far had proven she was receptive. Amenable. Dare he say eager?

“Since Ruford now believes there’s another man involved, he should mind his manners. Once again, thank you.” She held her hand out, but it wasn’t for him to kiss.

Tony would rather kiss than shake hands on their gentleman’s agreement, but he’d take what he could get, for the moment. Her grip was just like her, firm and unhesitant. Would the watchdogs clout him over the head again if he tugged her close and kissed her? “You’re sure you can handle Ruford from here on out?” As disagreeable as their brief meeting had been, Tony couldn’t imagine a lady having to face the scoundrel on a regular basis.

The front door burst open. “We’ve got a problem, Syl.” The redheaded youth shouldered his way through the mass of men clustered in the hall, shooting daggers at Tony when he got close. “Ruford’s first mate and another crewman are down at the Happy Jack, drinking ale.”

“There’s nothing unusual about that, Jimmy.” She turned to Tony. “You’ll need to stay here a while longer. As soon as they’ve gone, you can go back to your room at the inn, as we planned.”

Jimmy shook his head. “They got rooms for the night.”

Tony felt a sense of foreboding. “I take it that is unusual for them?”

“Not to worry,” Sylvia said, a little too brightly. “They’ve stayed the night at least once before and been gone in the morning. Sometimes the ship needs provisions and can’t wait until they reach the next harbor. That’s all.”

“Not this time, Syl. We heard the mate talking to Spencer. The captain sent him to find out what sort of wedding gift would be most appropriate for you and the gent.” Jimmy turned a meaningful gaze on Tony. “Even if it takes a while.”

So much for simple plans.

Sylvia tucked a curl behind her ear. Tony itched to do it for her. “And what did Spencer say?”

“He suggested a silver candelabra for the dining table.” Jimmy folded his arms. “And thanks to Mrs. Spencer, by dawn the whole village will know about your fake marriage.” Jimmy turned to Tony so they were standing toe to toe. “Looks like you aren’t leaving anytime soon.”