by Claudy Conn
Worried, Jacob glanced furtively over his shoulder and then hurried into the dark and dingy galley of inn.
The first thing that met his gaze was three seamen at a round table. They had the look of fishermen, tired after a long day; he passed them without thought and moved to the far end of the open galley.
In its darkest corner sat a well-dressed gentleman, whose top hat occupied one of the three chairs which were set at the small square table. This gentleman sat with his back to the corner, his auburn hair loose about his face. His features were hidden by the shadows cast by the dim wall candlelight at his back. Jacob sighed with relief as he saw a small crooked smile spread over the man’s features.
With obvious purpose, Sir Jacob made his way to him and stopped short as the gentleman raised his tankard to him.
“Lucas…I am sorry. I would have been here sooner had I been able,” Jacob said taking off his hat and holding it tightly in his hands as he scanned Lucas’s face.
“Sit, puppy and don’t fret it.” His gray eyes twinkled with understanding as ever so slightly he raised a finger to a passing barmaid.
Jacob sat heavily on the wooden chair and eyed his friend unhappily, but the barmaid was now standing over Lucas. She had her hands on her hips and it was obvious to Jacob that the two had become acquainted while Lucas had been waiting his arrival. He grinned. Lucas of Bennington was a good looking man and had a way with women. He wished some of his style would rub off a bit on him.
The barmaid turned to him, and put a hand to Jake’s fair locks as she bent low giving him a view of the swells of her full breasts and Jake’s jaw dropped slightly.
Lucas chuckled and inclined his head.
“What can I do for ye, now, m’lovely?” she asked in a low meaningful tone.
Lucas reached for and found her nipple through the thin material and gave her the smallest pinch as he pulled her into his lap. She groaned pleasurably and he said on a low note, “My friend here will have an ale, for now.”
She looked back at Sir Jacob and said, “Aw now…he is a pretty moonling and if ye loike, we can all go upstairs.”
Sir Jacob felt the heat rush to his face and hoped to bloody hell he wasn’t blushing. Lucas saved the moment by giving her rump a pat and telling her, “Go on now, that’s a good girl. Get us that ale.”
She laughed and ambled off. Lucas turned back to Sir Jacob, took a long sip of his ale and said, “She thinks she is in your style, is she pup?”
“For pity’s sake Lucas, don’t pretend you aren’t angry with me. I know that you are, but it couldn’t be helped,” Jacob whined ignoring Lucas’s remark.
“Couldn’t be helped?” Lucas’s dark brow, in contrast with the lighter shade of his auburn hair, was raised. “What about yesterday? That couldn’t be helped either?”
“ If I could have been there, I would have been. I sent you round a note.” Jacob was in full defensive mode.
“Tell me, Jake my boy, why is Swit still with you? Just what the hell is he after?” Lucas played with the curved handle of his mug. His finger took a tour of its shape, as he seemed to concentrate on the occupants of the galley.
“Dashed problem, I haven’t an answer for,” Sir Jacob exclaimed irritably. “I thought it was just his interest in my yacht. He seems to want to sail, but I am not certain.” He ran his hand through his light brown locks with some agitation.
“And MacTorry? What is the Scotsman after?” Lucas shook his head. “There is something very odd in that. Swit is a skirter. Perhaps all he means is to sponge off you for a bit. Just what is MacTorry’s part in all of this?”
“His lordship is a good sort.” Jake shook his head. “Blast it all! I don’t have any answers for you! Except, I suppose I should tell you that Swit has hinted…well…I am not sure, but he seems to know…” Sir Jacob sighed as he picked up the tankard the barmaid had set in front of him.
He sipped while the young woman ambled off and finally said with a long sigh, “This is all I know. Swit seems more interested in the use of my schooner than anything else. So then, perhaps it is as you say. He just means to live well as my guest. If there is something more sinister in his mind, I have not yet discovered it. Swit has threatened to make trouble for me if I cut ties with him. As I have already explained to you, Lucas, I am not certain just what he knows. He has not said, but he has hinted.”
‘”So you have pup. So you have. What I want to know is, how did the blackguard find out?”
“I don’t know. He never comes right out and says anything substantial. He only hints and leers. He takes pleasure in jesting about it, and leaving me uneasy.”
“Indeed.” Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “I wonder if he would dare do the same with me.”
Jacob evaluated him as a chill splintered through his mind. “Lucas, don’t involve yourself.” He was accosted by a new fear. “Jerry doesn’t know who you are. He didn’t get a really good look at you and never called you by name. It isn’t necessary for you to defend me. I can put up with Swit for a bit longer.”
“Can you?” Lucas said on a hard note. “However, my puppy, there is just so much that I will put up with. Sooner or later, Swit must be out of the picture. If he threatens you any further, I shall have a go at him.”
“Certes. Sooner won’t be soon enough and I am not a puppy! I can take care of myself,” Jacob announced whole-heartedly.
~ Twelve ~
A QUESTIONABLE SKY, thought Exerilla as she took the shortcut through the woods to Cressly Towers.
She arrived to find Jeffries greeting her with a wide smile. He told her that he hadn’t been certain she would come with the sky blacking up as he put it.
It took only a moment to throw a saddle on Princess and tack the pretty mare up. As the Princess Tat was coming into season, she made it known that she was in a feisty mood.
Princess Tat pranced around and took exception to Exerilla’s gentle request to trot. It took some moments and patience to settle the mare down.
She was a sweet mare, whose ears flickered responsively when Exerilla spoke softly to her. She was quick to respond to X’s leg as well. After an hour of putting her through her paces, X was well satisfied with their session.
X nimbly dismounted and turned to find Jeffries grinning as he displayed a set of yellow teeth. He told her, “She took that crossbar somewhat better. Aye, a sight better with ye on her back, than when Sir Jacob pointed her at it.” He looked down at his worn boots and added, “I would appreciate it if ye don’t mention I said that.”
Exerilla laughed. “When you see him, do thank Sir Jacob for allowing me to ride this wonderful mare. I’ll just go fetch my old Jack.”
“Aye then. I left the saddle on his back, but I did loosen the girth. He is ready for ye in the stall.”
She thanked him again, hurried to get Jack, then tightened the girth of the ladies’ saddle that she was only just getting used to. After she mounted him she took reins in hand. She tried to hurry Jack along as she walked him down the drive, encouraging him to pick up his pace. He trotted for a time, until Exerilla turned him off the main road. She took the shortcut his lordship had shown her the day before.
She sighed, as Jack’s fast trot was more along the line of a fast walk. She said, “You are a lazy boy, Jack. I suppose if I were an old timer like you, I’d be smart enough to take life easier.” She thought about this then laughed and said, “Nah, it is full speed for me and straight ahead. At least that is when I get out of this century. I am not sure why I ever thought I would like to live in this time period. No central anything is a tremendous inconvenience.”
Jack snorted, and then without warning weaved as he was spooked. He shifted sharply to the left throwing a screaming Exerilla out of her ladies’ saddle. She bumped against a tree with some force and groaned heavily on her way down to earth.
Exerilla rolled over on a bed of pine needles and put her hand to her top hat which miraculously was still on her head. It knocked the breath out of her and sh
e felt a bit dazed. She tried to steady herself when a strong, familiar male voice came clearly through her haze.
“Exerilla, lass…doona move,” Hunter MacTorry said as he jumped off his horse. He dropped down on one knee beside her.
“Oh, my riding habit!” She wailed, noticing it was torn in two places.
He smiled reassuringly. “Ah, Of course, but are ye intact?”
She looked up and found those blue eyes. She had sworn off humans. They would die and she would not. She had also sworn off men of this century, but at that moment, she decided to make an exception.
She tried to get up as he put a hand to her shoulder and said softly, “Doona try and get up, lass. Just stay quiet a moment.”
“I am fine, honestly,” she said.
“Are ye then?” he said, as he put a steadying arm around her.
“I must look a mess.” She put a hand to her hat and tried to straighten it as it was hanging a touch too far to the back of her head.
He laughed and straightened her hat for her. “There. All set to rights.”
She dimpled, because she was lost for a lack of words. This man always stole her breath away and turned her mind into porridge. She stood up and he helped her, keeping his hand on her waist as he made sure she was steady on her feet.
She looked up at the sky and said, “I think I better get mounted and hurry home.”
He held her fast and said, “Just give yerself a moment. Breathe. There, that’s it. Now smile that smile of yers for me.” He shook his head, “Och lass, but that smile slays me and makes me yer slave.”
She laughed. “Outrageous. Even after I take a fall, you are still hitting on me.” Oops, she thought, modern slang again.
He frowned. “I would never hit ye, lass. What would make ye say such a thing?”
“Oh, it is just an expression from where I hail from. It means flirting with wicked intentions.” She eyed him saucily and chuckled at his expression. He had, in that unguarded moment, the look of a younger man.
He smiled and acquiesced. “Well then, if ye be determined?”
“I am not injured at all. If you would give me a leg up?”
He hesitated still. “Are ye sure lass, ye can ride?”
She smiled at him. “Oh my pride, as they say, is far more bruised than my body. I’m fine, honest.”
He helped her onto her saddle and mounted his own horse that was grazing nearby with Jack. “I will see ye safely home.”
“Oh no! I can’t ask you to do that,” she frowned.
“Ye aren’t,” he answered and led the way.
They hadn’t gotten very far when they heard the beat of thunder crackle through the air. Lightning hit the earth way too close for comfort as the rain started to fall. Both horses began to fidget under them.
His lordship said, “Come on, we are taking shelter!”
“Shelter? Where?”
“Just over the ridge, I noticed the place yesterday when we rode by. That trail we both saw, it leads to a cottage of sorts,” he yelled over the driving rain.
They rode up the hill and took the trail she had herself noticed the previous day. They took the narrow path through the trees. After some distance through the woods they came to an old deserted homestead.
They rode up to cottage and she hurriedly dismounted. She was too aware that her clothes were sopping wet. She quickly undid the girth of her horse, noting that his lordship had already done the same. He was leading the horses away as he called to her. “Go on, get inside! I’ll just stick them in the back paddock.”
“Back paddock? Is there one?” she yelled after him.
“Go inside, lass.”
Lightning made its path to earth not far off and she did what she was told, standing just inside the door to have a look around.
Cobwebs and dust covered the wooden furniture; sheets covered the sofas and chairs that dominated the small open room she found herself looking into.
She was dripping wet and removed her top hat to set it on a wall hook. His lordship came up behind her.
“The horses are grazing in the back paddock. Most of the fences are intact and they should do until the storm moves off.”
“How did you know about this?”
“Noticed it yesterday. I had a peek, on my way back from Horwich House,” he said. He moved off to the small fireplace and started stacking small dry logs in the grate.
She watched him as he got it lit and fanned the flames. He turned to her and waved her closer. “Coom lass. Stand here near the flame. It should take soon, for the wood is right good kindling.”
She reached out her hands and sighed as she shook out her wet skirt.
He put out a chair for her near the hearth and said softly, “Take off yer jacket and I’ll hang it to dry.”
She did as he suggested as she was happy to get the wet thing off. She peeled off her wet gloves and set them near the fireplace on a small stool near the grate. She turned to him with a frown. “Though I am thankful to be out of the storm, I am certain…” she said doubtfully, “…that although no one lives here now, we are trespassing.”
He grinned broadly. “Not at all. This belongs to Sir Jacob. As I said, when I noticed this yesterday I mentioned it to him and asked who used to live here. He said his father used to breed horses. This was where his horse trainer resided, until Sir Jacob’s fathers’ death some fourteen months ago.”
“What a shame it has been left empty like this.”
He pulled another chair out and set it close to her. He then took off his top hat and dropped it on a nearby table, then stripped off his own wet riding coat. He hung it near the fire and then sidled down the hall, vanishing out of sight.
When he returned he had a knit blanket and shook it out. “Here lass. Put this over yer lap.”
“Thank you,” she said spreading it around herself as she watched him take a stand close to the fire. He was magnificent. Everything about him seemed to glow. It was as though he gave off an inner light.
And so much more.
He seemed to take up the entire atmosphere around him with that inner glow of his. He seemed to blot out all else. Stop it, Xie girl, she told herself. You are getting fanciful, your father would say. It was all her father’s fault that she was in her present predicament. Maybe if she could sit down with her dad and make him understand how much she detested Galen Debbin. Maybe, but she knew better. Her instincts told her the truth and the truth was that her father would compel her to marry Galen with a spell, as soon as he found her.
All at once, she realized his lordship was watching her and she gave him a questioning look. “What?”
“I was aboot to ask ye the same thing, lass. What? Ye were in another world,” he answered softly.
She sighed. “I suppose I was thinking about home.”
“Home,” he said. “Aye. I too have not been home in many a year,” he said.
She had the feeling that he was off in his own world for he had a faraway look.
He sat and reached for her hand and she realized she couldn’t let him touch her. She wanted him too much; making it too dangerous to let him touch her. Inadvertently she flinched.
“I doona bite, Exerilla,” he said quietly.
“No?” He had been kind and so she tried a tease. “How very disappointing; I rather thought you might.”
“Uh-oh. In that case, it is m’pleasure to accommodate a lady.” He bent toward her.
She put out her hand. He smelled of a delicious musky spice scent and his lips were so enticing. She was stronger than that, she told herself and said, “No, no you don’t! I was teasing, Hunter.”
He stopped at once and leaned back into his chair. “That is the first time ye have used m’given name.”
Oh Holy Moly, she thought. Trouble.
He was sitting back, sweetly talking in that lovely Scottish burr which sent shivers through her. She loved his voice, his eyes, and his scent. She tried looking away from him. “Well,” she said in way
of explanation, “we are much less formal where I come from.” She grinned. “Not a whole lotta lords and such to deal with.”
He got up and paced a moment near the fire with his back to her as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and hung it with his riding coat.
X realized she was holding her breath and let it out as he turned and gave her his hand. “Coom stand here with me. The flames now are hot and will dry yer clothes better here.”
He was warming her up more than the flames. Why couldn’t she just let go and be with this hunk of a man. A little flirtation and a kiss or two wouldn’t hurt anything. She got up, did not take his hand, but rubbed both of hers as she stood and shook out her riding skirt.
His voice was a husky murmur, “Are ye hurting from yer fall, lass?”
“No, not at all, actually” she answered with a fleeting smile.
“Good,” he said and suddenly his hands were on her waist, bringing her closer in one easy swift move.
She was ready for his kiss this time. She had been hoping and yearning for another kiss from him. When it came, it sparked something inside of her that exploded and shot through her entire being and into his. Did he feel it? Her inner witch was screaming at her, yes—this man—now!
He leaned back and away from her lips, as though the shock of what they had just experienced had burned him. “Och lass, but…” and his mouth was on hers again, his tongue finding and caressing hers, as his kiss gave birth to another and yet another until they both could not breathe. Once again, he pulled away to hold her from him and stared at her. “Exerilla,” his voice was hushed as though seeing her for the first time.
Her magic had taken over who she was and made her what she was. She had never had that happen with anyone before. She was twenty-one, and had an amazing kiss or two in her time, but this kiss…was different.
His kiss had pulled on her White Magic and bombarded it with his own brand of lusty rapture and had spilled into every vein, into her heart, her mind, and right down into all that she had ever wanted and made what she felt a living entity. Her witch had chosen him. What the hell was going on?