Lords of Desire (7 page)

After a long, quiet time, Tory raised her head, looked into his eyes, and whispered,

“NowI am ready to collect my wager.” He had made a woman of her and she was imbued with confidence. She believed they had reached a level of intimacy where it would be difficult for him to refuse her anything.

He cocked a dark, indulgent brow. “What do you desire?”

“Take me with you on your next smuggling run!”

A denial sprang to his lips, but he did not utter it. Instead, he looked incredulous. “Tory, your imagination soars without boundaries. I am a staunch advocate of law and order.

Among my guests tonight were a customs officer, a magistrate, various government officials, and the captain of the militia.”

“And right under their noses you passed contraband to your noble guests. When all was safely stowed in the carriages, Mr. Burke signaled you.”

He pulled her down to him. “Violet-eyed witch. Now I shall have to kill you.” He kissed her instead.

“Take me on a run!”

His arms tightened. “I would not expose you to danger.”

“If the danger is so great, why do you do it?”

“Danger excites me.”

“Then we are two of a kind.” Her eyes glittered. “If you won’t take me, I may as well go back to my own time.”

“Blackmail won’t work, sweetheart, but I’m particularly vulnerable to bribery.”

“You black-eyed devil.” She slid both her hands down between their bodies. “Then bribery it is, milord.” She rolled his hardening cock between her palms.

As they finished breakfast, Falcon asked, “Do you ride?”

“Father taught me to ride when I was a child, but all we have now at the priory is a carriage horse.”

“Pandora likes to hunt in Ashdown Forest. If you ride astride, you can come with us. Mr.

Burke will find you some britches.”

Within the hour an excited Tory stood in front of the mirror dressed as a boy. The britches and jacket must have belonged to a young servant, but she didn’t care. She tucked in the shirt, tied her hair back with a ribbon, and shouted up the stairs, “Ready!”

The leopard paced outside the stable while Falcon saddled two mounts. His own was a black mare with a deep chest and sturdy legs; hers was a dark brown pony. Tory mounted without his help. “I thought you would ride a more showy animal.”

“You think me vain!” He flashed white teeth. “I don’t deny it, but I put expedience before vanity. Bess has endurance and speed; your pony is sure-footed.”

The moment they emerged from the stable, Pandora loped off toward the forest. The leopard spotted a hare and disappeared into the trees. Falcon did not follow her; he trotted beneath the thick green canopy for more than a mile until he came to a well-hidden path.

“Do you think you could ride through here in the dark, my love?”

He’s testing me for a smuggling run!“I know I could.”

He winked at her. “Try to keep up with me.” He took off without warning, taking the twists and turns with practiced ease. Tory gripped the reins and touched her heels to the pony’s flanks. In truth all she had to do was keep her seat and keep her head low; her mount knew the way.

When she caught up, he asked, “Which way is the castle?”

She hesitated, unsure.

“Then how would you get to the safety of Bodiam?”

“If I were lost, I’d give the pony its head.”

His grin was a leer. “Beauty and brains, a heady combination.”

Tory heard the distant cry of an animal, quickly cut off. She guessed what it was and went pale. “I don’t enjoy blood sport.”

“Make no mistake, smuggling is a blood sport.”

“Men’s blood I can stomach.”

“Spoken with bravado.”

Falcon gave a trilling whistle and shortly Pandora joined them. They returned to Bodiam at a leisurely pace and as they climbed the stairs of the tower, he asked, “Did your mount suit you?”

“Yes. I wish he were mine.”

“Wish granted. Keep those clothes handy if you want to come on the run tonight.”

“Tonight?”Her pulse began to race.

“It has to be at the dark of the moon. Are you game?”

Tory nodded eagerly.

“Good, I’ll get you a slouch hat. Have a rest this afternoon.”

Everything was different at night. Black shadows loomed everywhere in the darkness, exaggerating the size and distorting the shape of trees and dwellings. As she trotted beside Falcon, she was thankful her pony did not shy. The very air felt eerie and charged with peril. She became aware that, one by one, other riders fell in behind them. She copied Falcon and did not turn to look.I wonder if he has his pistols with him? Of course he does—everyone will be armed. Tory shivered.

They rode in silence at a slow, steady pace, the muffled hooves of their mounts making little sound. Tory sensed they rode west and she knew by the sound and the smell when they reached the sea. A mile or so farther brought them to a vast marsh. Without hesitation their mounts trotted into the reedy saltwater and were soon up to their hocks.

When Falcon dismounted, she followed suit, and, as she turned, she was amazed to see scores of dark figures that numbered about eighty. The men searched the marsh for barrels and wooden crates, hoisted them onto their animals’ backs, secured the cargo with ropes, and left as silently as they had arrived.

Falcon picked up two wooden crates and secured them to Bess, then he slung a brace of small barrels across the pony’s back and signaled Tory with his thumb to mount. Back in the saddle, they fell into line behind the other riders.

This must be Romney Marsh. This cargo has been dropped off a merchant vessel from a foreign port. Will we take it to Bodiam?They rode for more than an hour. Cold and wet, Tory found the journey tedious. Only the danger made it exciting.

They skirted a cemetery, which some of the riders entered. She followed Falcon into a stand of trees and realized they were in Ashdown Forest. Soon they were on a path and rode in single file for miles. When they reached the northern edge, the riders dismounted and dropped their cargo amid the cover of the trees. Falcon lifted the barrels from her pony and bent to whisper in Tory’s ear. “Home.”

Tory gave her pony its head, sensing it would find the shortest way through vast Ashdown Forest to its snug Bodiam stable. When she got to her own chamber, Mr. Burke sent the servants with hot bathwater. By the time she had wrapped herself in a velvet bed robe, Falcon arrived and beckoned her upstairs.

He poured them each a tot of French brandy and while she took a tentative sniff and then a sip, he stripped off his wet clothes. “You’re doing it the right way. First you inhale the fragrant fumes, then you hold it on your tongue to savor its fine flavor. When you swallow, it will warm the cockles of your heart.”

He padded naked across the room and stretched out before the fire. “Come and be warm, love.”

She sat down beside him and took another swallow. “It feels like a bloodred rose is blooming in my breast.”

“The potent warmth will soon spread through your veins like a river of fire.” He cocked an inquisitive brow. “So, what did you think of your first run, my beauty?”

“I expected it to be great fun, but after the anticipation wore off, I realized it was tedious work. Only the danger made it exciting. My curiosity’s sated and I’m not eager to go again.”

“That’s the reaction I was hoping for. If I’d told you, you wouldn’t have believed me—

you had to experience it for yourself.”

“It’s a larger operation than I thought and covers a wider area. When the goods are dropped at the far side of Ashdown Forest, they must be picked up by others and delivered to wealthy noble customers, perhaps as far away as Penshurst.”

Falcon sipped his brandy. “And from Penshurst to London.”

“I don’t understand why you do it. The excitement must have palled long ago.” She thought of the noble names listed in the back of the journal. “Why put yourself in danger to save your wealthy friends from paying import taxes?”

Falcon laughed. “I don’t do it for them. The villagers of Hawkhurst would starve eking out a living by fishing alone.”

“Ah, the names listed in the front of your journal.” Tory rubbed a taut muscle in her back. “What was the name of the ‘phantom ship’ that dropped the contraband in Romney Marsh?”

“TheSeacock, ” he said quietly.

Tory’s eyes widened.You took the Seacockout to raid the cargo of a French merchant vessel. “Falcon Hawkhurst, you are not just a smuggler, you are a pirate!”

He smiled into her eyes, slipped the robe from her shoulders, and bade her lie prone before the fire. Then, with long, slow, sensuous strokes, he began to massage her back and buttocks. The thrilling thought of a pirate’s hands caressing her naked flesh made her want to scream with excitement. Before he was done, Tory thought her very bones would melt with pleasure.

He turned her onto her back and proceeded to work his magic on the rest of her body.

Her lush breasts spilled into his possessive hands and he brought his lips down to hers in a demanding kiss that was primal and savage.

His mouth tasted of brandy and it sent her senses reeling. She wrapped her legs tightly around his back and heat leaped between them as he impaled her with a hot, driving thrust. She was wildly intoxicated by the brandy and the potent maleness of the reckless devil who was making love to her.

It was too intense to last long and all too soon they were both crying out their pleasure.

He gathered her close and held her against his heart until her body softened. Falcon watched her eyes close and felt her body grow limp in his arms as she drifted into sleep.

A need to protect her now mingled with his desire to possess her. “Don’t leave me, Victoria.”

When Tory awoke, she was in Falcon’s bed, but she was alone. The last thing she remembered was being held in his arms before the fire.When I fell asleep he carried me to bed.

She knew she was losing her heart to this man, yet in the cool light of day, what she had learned about him last night brought her conscience into conflict. Hawkhurst was noble and altruistic regarding the welfare of the less privileged families of the area, and Tory had no problem with them smuggling contraband. Piracy was another matter. Fiction portrayed it as adventure, but the reality was often bloody and brutal. The words he had uttered came winging back to her:Danger excites me.

She now realized with dismay it was the sheer, reckless danger of life-or-death risks that held Falcon in thrall.He is a buccaneer who boards vessels and plunders cargo. The crates of tea from the East Indiaman where he’d found Pandora came to mind.The Seacockis fitted with a row of cannon and its master carries a brace of pistols.

Tory dressed and sat down before the mirror to brush her hair. Her mind went back over what the history books had recorded of Lord Hawkhurst of Bodiam Castle. His ship was named, but no mention had been made of piracy or even smuggling.I’m letting my imagination run amok. Most likely Falcon never sank a ship or killed anyone. Tory decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

She smiled into the mirror and admitted she was head over heels with the bold devil. She had been ruled by rigid morals all her life and refused to allow a straitlaced upbringing to deprive her of the pleasure Falcon brought her. It felt so much more romantic to let her heart rule her head.

The sun was high and Tory decided to take her book down to the grassy quadrangle. A serving woman brought out her lunch and Tory realized Mr. Burke had been instructed to take care of her needs. In the early afternoon she saw Falcon ride beneath the portcullis.He’s returning from God only knows what nefarious business.

He dismounted and dropped down on the grass beside her. “It occurs to me that you haven’t received your share of spoils. Come to my ship and choose your reward,” he invited.

Tory hesitated. TheSeacock was the wicked instrument of his iniquity. She swept her conscience aside and smiled into his eyes. His ship was too sinfully tempting to resist.Admit the truth and shame the Devil, Victoria. It is Falcon Hawkhurst who is too sinfully tempting.

He lifted Tory into the saddle and mounted Bess behind her. They left Bodiam and rode along the bank of the River Rother until they reached theSeacock. He held her hand tightly as they traversed the narrow gangplank, then he lifted her over the rail.

Tory’s face lit with eager curiosity as her gaze swept from the brigantine’s rigging to its well-scrubbed deck. Her eyes purposely avoided the rows of cannon. Below, she took in the cabin’s rich mahogany and polished brass. Falcon lit a lantern and took her into the hold. It smelled of tar and tea and piquant spices she could not name. He removed a false panel and led her into a space that held a cabinet and some trunks.

Falcon unlocked the cabinet doors and pulled out a drawer. Gold and silver necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earbobs, many set with precious jewels, glittered in the lamplight. As Tory gazed with appreciation, he lifted a trunk lid and revealed its contents. She drew in her breath and reached out to touch the bolts of exquisite silk, shot through with shining threads.

“The choice is yours, Victoria.”

Without hesitation her fingers sought the pale green silk with silver threads. “I’ve never seen anything as lovely in my life.”

He handed her the bolt of silk. “Its loveliness pales beside yours.” He closed the lid and moved to the cabinet. He took out a pair of carved jade earrings. “You must have these, too. They match perfectly. Both your beauty and your taste are exotic.”

“Thank you, Falcon, for the gifts and the compliment.” She looked down at the exquisite objects and a bubble of joyous laughter escaped. “And they say the wages of sin are death!”

He led the way back up on deck. “You promised to swim for me. The warm afternoons of August will soon give way to the cool autumn days of September.”

“Will you swim with me, milord?”

“I will, milady.” He immediately began to throw off his clothes.

Tory set down her presents, removed her dress and petticoat, and draped them to protect the delicate gifts of silk and jade. By this time, Falcon was naked and, not to be outdone, Tory stripped off her drawers and stays. She followed him as he strode to the bridge. He raised his arms and launched himself into the air, diving down to the water like a sea hawk. He surfaced laughing and flung the wet hair from his eyes. “Your turn!”