Surrender The Night (43 page)

“It’s actually quite good, if you can ignore the eyes staring at you.” Katrina’s smile faded. “Devon, do you think Phillip Carrington is daring enough to handle the distribution of the goods we bring back from France?”

“What the deuce . . . Where’d you get a crackbrained notion like that?”

Succinctly Katrina explained the basis of her suspicions: the silk, the peculiar respect Jack seemed to show Carrington, Carrington’s affluence even when his primary source of income—the mine—showed little profit.

Devon frowned as he listened. After she finished, he said slowly, “Phillip’s always been a toplofty sort. I can’t see him fraternizing with smugglers, but it’s true his family fortune was never large. And the haste with which he obtained the silk
is
peculiar. Do you want me to question him?’ ’

“Of course not. He’d really have cause to hate you then. I just want your opinion because, well, because I’m afraid someone is keeping part of the contraband for himself. And the person who handles the distribution seems the most logical suspect.”

“And what if you’re right? What can you do to stop it?”

“Tell the others. When and if I have proof.” Katrina started to tell Devon of the records she was keeping, but when she spied the anger kindling in his eyes, she thought better of it. “At the very least they’ll get someone else to handle the dispersal.”

‘ ‘And what of the danger you’re courting, you little fool? Do you think Phillip or whoever will just let you be if he discovers what you’re doing?” Devon caught her arms and pulled her to her toes.

“He won’t. No one else suspects, I’m certain of that, and you’re the only one I’ve told.”

His tense grip relaxed. Her feet touched the ground again as he clasped her tightly in his arms. “Woman, if anything happens to you—”

“Yes? What will you do? Haul me out of my grave for a scolding?”

“That’s not funny,” he said gruffly. “If you’d marry me, this havey-cavey business wouldn’t be necessary.”

With a false laugh Katrina evaded his arms and his state
ment. “Come along. Rachel should be serving up any minute.”

“Let’s hope it’s tastier than the guff you’ve been feeding me.” Devon stalked after her. “And if you think this conver
sation’s at an end, my dear, you’ve forgotten how persistent I can be.”

That, she thought as she entered the fragrant house, she was unlikely to ever forget. A shiver trailed up her spine, but somehow her sigh was wistful rather than frustrated. She had a presentiment she’d see many examples of his persistence over the coming weeks. Right or wrong, she’d enjoy them to their fullest. While she could ...

             
                                         
Part Six

‘Wise wretch! with pleasures too refined to please; With too much spirit to be e’er at ease;

With too much quickness ever to be taught;

With too much thinking to have common thought. You purchase pain with all that joy can give,

And die of nothing but a rage to live.”

—Alexander Pope,

Moral Essays,
“Episde II”

Chapter Fourteen

One halcyon summer
day dreamed into the next. Katrina spent most of her time with Devon. On the frequent rainy days, they lazed before a fire, either at the manor or at the cottage, the Tonkins growing fonder of Devon apace. Katrina scarce had time to consider their feelings, however; she was too busy quelling her own.

Sexual intimacy had made emotional distance impossible. She’d been naive to think otherwise. With every coupling Katrina felt
closer to Devon, her eventual rejection harder to contemplate. His uncanny ability to choose her weakest moments to press his suit made her control ever more perilous.

On a late July day, as they returned from visiting the miners, Devon ordered Henry to stop. The sun made its first appear
ance in a week, peeking like a sulky child around its mother’s billowy skirts.

“Why are we stopping?” Katrina asked, looking out the window at the ancient circle of boulders. She’d passed this cairn numerous times and had often wanted to investigate.

Devon’s only answer was a mysterious smile. He jumped out and offered his hand.

With a little grumble she took it. “No one ever tells me anything.” She smiled as Henry opened the door for her.

“Perhaps that’s because you don’t heed good advice,” Devon answered dryly. “Fetch us in a couple of hours, Henry.”

The coachman nodded and climbed the steps to his perch.

The carriage rattled away, revealing the basket and blanket Henry had set on the opposite side of the road. Katrina knelt.  She found wine, cheese, bread, pastries, and fruit. Her indignation began to wane under appetite’s sway.  “Did Moll pack this for you?”

“That she did. She’s hurt, you know, that you don’t visit he
r in the kitchen more often.”

“I see her sometimes when you’re not there.” Only when you’re not there—Katrina sighed to herself—can I bear to hold the lad. Seeing Devon and the child together was too painful a reminder of what might have been.

“It was fortuitous that you took me there that day. Moll makes the best scones and pastries I’ve ever tasted.”

“And she’s grateful for the work. You were generous to employ her, Devon.”

He shrugged. “She earns every shilling.”

Katrina looked about for a likely place to set out the impromptu supper.

“Over there, milady.” Devon swept his arm outward in a ceremonious bow.

Obediently Katrina went in the indicated direction, within the encircling stones. The central part of the monume
nt consisted of three huge slabs of granite, two on end, one horizontal, set up to resemble an archway into another world.

Indeed, as Katrina walked beneath the arch, shade absorbed the sun’s warmth. Standing here, she could see only a world of gray behemoths, relics of another time. She couldn’t shake the feeling that when they exited this sacred circle, they’d find themselves in a time of witchcraft and warfare. She shivered as the old trapped feeling almost overwhelmed her. “Is it safe?”

“It’s stood for centuries, my love. I don’t believe even the force we generate together will be enough to shake it loose.” Devon smiled when she blushed. He knelt to spread out the blanket. “I thought you’d be as charmed by this legacy as I. Somewhere in the past we probably have the same blood flowing through our veins, Katrina. We’ve explored our differences enough. Can’t we at last celebrate our common bond?’ ’ Devon rose to take her hands.

A harder woman than Katrina would have been touched at his romanticism. Her stifling closeness eased. The sky above stretched to heaven; the world below had narrowed to the limitless horizon of his eyes. When he pulled her down to the blanket, she went without a second thought.

He served her plate, then his own. He leaned back on one elbow and watched her eat. Nervously she licked her lips, but then his gaze settled on her mouth. Suddenly her dress felt too tight.

Her voice higher than normal, she asked, “Have the engineers finished measuring yet?”

“Almost. They judge it will take a fortnight to get the equipment here to begin installation.”

“So the men should soon be back at work?” Katrina set aside her half-full plate and folded her hands demurely in her lap, unable to meet that intense stare.

“When the work is done, the pump tested. Watt’s men estimate it will take about a month to install, since the works are so spread out and they’ll have to extend the system so deep. I know the men are getting restless.”

“The harvest should be in soon, and that will help, but many of the farmers export their grain because they can get a better price. There have been riots in the past. John worries that some
of the men are agitating now.”

‘ ‘I know. But the best way to help these men to prosperity is to give them decent jobs. I can’t do anything about the price of co
rn.”

But will the mine be finished in time? Katrina wondered.

“Enough gloom and doom, Katrina.” Devon scooted next to her and drew her head down on his shoulder.

Katrina smiled against him. “Why
did
you bring me here?” She rubbed her nose into his jacket.

“Wretch.” He titled her chin back. “That’s not the only reason.” He hesitated, then admitted, “I want to talk to you. This waiting is devilish hard on a fellow. You must admit I’ve been patient.”

That she could not deny. Aside from several hints and wounded looks, he’d not referred to marriage again. Katrina drew away from him. She couldn’t think clearly when he held her. And judging by the smile playing about his lips, the scoundrel knew it.

Bending her head, Katrina gave great attention to her new skirt. She’d used her last smuggling share—which had indeed been less than expected—and bought herself and the rest of the family new clothes. On seeing her in the plain garments, he’d sighed, but hadn’t urged her to accept clothes from him. He was, indeed, trying to understand her. How much easier were he not ...

His head cocked, he appraised her neat figure. “You win, yet again. But only for the nonce.” He lifted his wineglass. “To the day, and the most stubborn, irresistible woman God ever created.”

The fine mixture of frustration and desire in his eyes made Katrina’s neck prickle, but she lifted her goblet to his. “To the day.”

As soon as she’d sipped, he took her glass and set it, and his, aside. “Do you know, Miss Prim and Proper, the neater you are, the more I want to muss you?” He caught her waist and lowered her to the blanket.

His lips and hands suited action to words. His hands unbuttoned her high-necked blouse and unlaced her chemise while his mouth disarranged her neat bun, then lowered to her, neck and sucked. He drew back and appraised the tiny red mark. “Good, no one can doubt whom you belong to now.”

Katrina’s heavy eyelids fluttered open. “The whole county knows, from Land’s End to Devonshire.” She watched her fingers working at his shirt buttons, so she missed his pained expression.

With a sound halfway between a groan and a snarl, he jerked her chemise down beneath her breasts. But as soon as he touched her vulnerable skin, his hands gentled. He traced each globe with lush thoroughness, sighed deeply, and bent his head to sustain himself.

Katrina arched beneath the skillful lips and tongue. Never had his touch been so sweet. Her breasts felt tender, yearning, but she was too caught up in the moment to question their unusual sensitivity. She barely comprehended his frustrated mutterings into her heated flesh. “I hate the way men talk of you.” He lapped at her erect nipples, then turned his cheek to rest his head against her. “I’m tired of sneaking around, pretending to foolish errands so we can be alone.”

“Shh.” Tenderly she stro
ked through the hair she’d loosened from his queue. “I don’t care what they say. I knew they’d talk.” She laced her fingers about the back of his head and lifted it. “I’d pay any price to know these moments with you.” She scooted down to bring his lips to hers.

D
evon’s touch grew desperate when her skirts wouldn’t cooperate, but Katrina didn’t notice because she was too busy jerking at his breeches. Buttons flew, material ripped, but finally they were able to merge.

Luxury! Each stayed still, the better to savor. He buried his nose in her neck; Katrina ran her hands over his tense back. Oddly, neither concentrated on the exquisite sheathing of man-flesh into woman. Instead they closed their eyes and reveled in the emotional intimacy. In that brief moment each forgot the past and ignored the future. Only this oneness mattered.

Katrina felt tears threatening. Deliberately, she flexed her muscles around him. Let passion serve where tenderness could not.

He gasped. “Stop that, woman. I want to last.”

Again, longer. She dragged his mouth to hers and flicked her tongue inside.

The twin sensations were too much for him, but as Katrina had learned, passion was insatiable. Its satiety required two victims. Gladly she sacrificed her weighty morality. This she could accept from him, and give as richly in return.

Above and below he accepted her challenge, inserting himself tirelessly, skillfully, until thought was beyond her. Their bodies slapped together, tension building apace. When it snapped, they went with it. The very earth did seem to rumble beneath their bodies, the arch above them sway under the impact.

For a timeless moment their energies combined in a com
bustion that made them feeling rather than flesh, emotion rather than thought. Briefly, they felt invincible, one mystical being. But when the pulsing died, the power dissipated. They became a tangle of arms and legs, hair, heart, and bone. Two people who loved one another, but who knew, once more, that love sometimes couldn’t conquer all. The past hovered over them again, a dark omen to their future.

Devon moved to her side and drew her head to his chest “Ah,
little love”—he sighed— “what a delicious torment you are.” He settled her more closely against him, pulling at her as if he would climb inside her skin and keep her any way he could.

With the intimacy went the euphoria. It was ever thus, onl
y each time the pain seemed worse. Katrina listened to his slowing heart rate, cursing her own stubborn tears.

“Had anyone told me a few months ago that I’d be in this position. I’d have laughed in their faces.”

Katrina cleared her aching throat. ‘ ‘What position?’ ’

“Stud service!”

A delighted smile stretched Katrina’s mouth. She pushed the dark despair away with a laugh. “Now that, my very dear lord, you must admit is a wry turn of events.” She rested her forearms on his chest to look down at him. She tried to kiss his sulky mouth, but he turned his head.

“No. You got what you want
ed. I’ve a mind to charge you.” He set her aside and rose to his knees to glare at her.

Katrina’s appraisal was as slow and thorough as the many he’d subjected her to. “Be certain the price is dear.” She ticked off on her fingers. “Shoulders, broad; arms, strong; legs, powerful.” She leaned forward to pull down his sullen lowe
r lip.“Teeth, good.”

‘ ‘Blast you, woman, do you think I look like a horse?’ ’

She tapped one finger thoughtfully against her mouth. “Well, your mane is rather tangled at the moment, but it’s thick, shiny, and healthy.” When he snorted, she giggled and added without thinking, “And you’ve certain other attributes that put me in mind of one.” Her eyes lowered.

This startled a smile to his face that turned into a laugh when she went as red as her impudent nipples. “A vicar’s daughter, eh? Tsk, tsk. What do you know of such things?”

“You’ve made me intimately familiar with ‘such things,’ ” Katrina had to say tartly, even in her embarrassment.

“Then let’s utilize your skill. I exact payment now. In kind.” He hauled her to her knees and crushed his mouth over hers.

She responded as desperately. She blinked in shock when he flung himself away with a frustrated snarl. “Enough. Accounts are even. Henry will be back soon. We’d best be ready.”

Katrina swallowed her hurt and dressed. She helped him pack the supper away. She rose with dignity and moved to step out of the ring of stones.

He caught her arm. “Katrina, I’m sorry. You . . . hurt me, so I wanted to hurt you back. Forgive me?” He traced her trembling lips with an index finger.

“Of course,” she mumbled, pulling away. Pain dogged her every step as she left the monument and weaved back into the present. Soon, if she didn’t send him away, he’d begin to hate her out of sheer frustration. Dear God, how much longer did she have? How many more memories could she ferret aside before eternal winter descended?

They each leaned back against the stones, watching the sun drop below the horizon, taking light and laughter with it. When carriage wheels clattered in the distance, each drew a relieved sigh.

They walked to the path to meet Henry, but when the carriage rounded the comer, Katrina took an instinctive step back. Devon cursed and fumbled in the basket for his small pistol.

“Well, well. What a fortuitous encounter. I wouldn’t, old boy.” Carrington threw the reins to Hennessy and jumped down, holding Devon squarely in the sights of his big carriage pistol. “Take your hand out of the basket, slowly.”