A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset
Page 69
They opened the back of the cart, and Red unlocked the barn door. “Put the wine near the door,” he ordered. “It will not be there long.”
Knight nodded and began unloading with a swift ease that made Red feel like a crippled old man, in spite of Knight being potentially older than him. At least they thought so. No one really knew, not even Knight.
Red stilled. He motioned to the men to do the same. Breath held, he listened.
“Horses,” Nate whispered.
He nodded. “Open both the doors, we’ll put the cart inside.”
Knight and Nate pulled them open and he urged the horses into the dark confines of the barn. Thankfully they had little left of their last haul or else it would never have fit in along with the horses. He clambered off quickly and locked the barn door behind him.
All three of them were well-rehearsed in dodging the excise men or any potentially nosey strangers. The rugged Cornish countryside provided plenty of hiding spots, and they tucked themselves behind a crumbling stone wall.
The sound of horse hooves neared. Collectively they held their breaths. Should the revenue men come upon them, they would be nothing more than three drunken men, lost on their way home from the inn. But it would be enough to arouse suspicion and potentially search the barn. None of them wanted that.
Red twisted his head enough to view the horses and their riders as they belted past. Three of them, well-dressed. Excise men to be sure. He cursed inwardly. They were becoming more determined.
They waited until the patrol was long gone before moving from their spot. A curse from Nate drew his attention.
“What is—” Red laughed as he spotted a sheep determinedly butting into Nate’s leg. He must have come from a nearby field and had apparently taking a liking to his brother. “Looks like you’ve made a friend.”
“Or an enemy,” Nate grumbled when the animal retreated and came at him again. Nate held up his hands to try to stop the animal from coming near but the white, grubby-looking sheep was determined to butt into his leg. In spite of clapping his hands and stomping his feet, the animal continued forward before coming to a stop and giving him a gentler nudge.
“She likes you,” Knight said.
“Come, let us finish our work here and leave Nate’s friend in peace. Then I can have a damned whiskey.”
“It is not my friend,” Nate protested as they opened the barn to continue unloading.
The damned sheep followed them into the barn.
Red shook his head. Nothing about tonight had gone smoothly.
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