Smuggler's Moon

by Cynthia Wright

  “I don’t understand.” She set down her fork and waited.

  “I’m taking Keswick and our intention is to…try to discover a way to live there again, perhaps by renting it in place of the current inhabitants. As you know, my goal, my dream, has always been to breed horses at Severn Park.” To his own ears, he sounded false and forced, but her expression reflected more confusion than disbelief.

  “How can it be anything but a dream? We are nearly penniless, are we not?”

  He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Perhaps we are, but I am going nevertheless.”

  “And Keswick is going with you? What are we to do while you are away—rely on Mr. Snuggs?”

  “Tristan will look in on you.” Although Sebastian sensed there was much more Julia wished to say on the subject, he continued, “I’ve already spoken to him about it.”

  “It was very kind of you to spare a few moments to consider my wellbeing.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Clearly, you are not interested in continuing this conversation.”

  Julia rose and summoned Primmie to clear the table. “I’m going to check on little Daisy.”

  “And I am going to pack.”

  “Of course you are!”

  They both turned away at the same moment and exited through opposite doors.

  * * *

  In the middle of the night, Julia awoke, her heart aching.

  Beside her, Sebastian lay in a pool of moonlight, the soft summer breeze whispering over his hard-muscled body that was only half-covered by a sheet. Through the open window came the muted, churring call of a nightjar.

  Julia thought of Daisy, as she had been a few hours before when she’d visited her in the barn. It was almost impossible to believe that the badger cub had been near death just two days before, for now she was wriggling around in the straw-lined wooden box they’d fashioned for her, eating all the earthworms and nuts and berries they brought her. She even rolled over on her back so that Julia could rub her tummy. The cub’s injured leg was much better, and Julia knew that Sebastian would not be the only one to leave her tomorrow.

  She would have to take Daisy back to the vast underground sett herself, in the evening, when the other badgers would emerge to begin foraging for food.

  It felt as if there was a little storm inside her as she thought of losing both Daisy and Sebastian in the same day. What if Daisy was not accepted back into the sett? What if her leg became worse again?

  And all manner of things could happen to Sebastian that might delay his return to Trevarre Hall. Perhaps he would meet an old love in Hampshire, or quickly achieve his goal to recover Severn Park and—

  “Julia,” came a husky warning from the shadows, “for God’s sake, go to sleep.”

  To her horror, she felt her eyes brim with tears. She came nearer to him and dared to rest her cheek against his broad chest, which was at once hard yet warm and infinitely appealing. Unbidden came a memory of the first time she saw him, when she had thought he was Lord Sebastian Trevarre’s butler. The corners of her mouth twitched.

  “What amuses you?” he murmured.

  “I was only smiling. I certainly didn’t mean to interrupt your sleep.” But then she couldn’t help adding, “I was thinking of the first time we met. Do you remember?”

  “Of course.”

  But how could he, when he had seemed so bored by her that day? “I came to find you, to ask you to forgive Papa’s gambling debts, and I thought you were the butler—”

  “Julia, I can assure you, I remember it very well.”

  She rose up on her elbows then, laughing into his eyes as the starlight streamed over them. “I couldn’t see the humor in it then, but now—”

  “You were the most confounding female I had ever encountered. So sure of yourself—”

  “Oh, but not really. It was just that someone in my family had to take charge, and since no one else ever seemed capable of doing so effectively, I had grown used to stepping into the fray.” She gave a little sigh. “I came to feel that it was all up to me.”

  His eyes softened as he regarded her for a long moment before replying, “What a burden for a child to have to carry. Or perhaps your father was better able to cope when you were younger?”

  “No, not really. Papa was a very kind man, but not a practical one. He spent a lot of time in his book shop, escaping into the tales that he was supposed to be selling.”

  She expected Sebastian to yawn and suggest sleep again, but instead he reached out and traced her delicate jawline with one long, tanned finger. A delicious shiver ran down her back.

  “You doubtless didn’t have many dreams for yourself,” he remarked.

  “No, but that’s because I was too busy managing the lives of my family members. I imagined that they couldn’t cope without me.” She could hear the note of irony in her own voice and gave him a bemused smile. “Apparently they are carrying on perfectly well since I left Turbans. Such conceit!”

  “And did you never harbor secret dreams of romance for yourself?”

  Suddenly, she had to look away from his smoldering gaze. “I—I don’t remember.”

  “I was wrong, I think, to rob you of the sort of romantic first kiss you deserved. I rather made a mockery of it for you.”

  “No!” Oh, how wrong he was, but how could she tell him there was no one else she would have rather kissed? Even the scene itself had been perfectly suited to her tastes. “I’ve never been a female who aspired to sweet romance. If a man had come to me on one knee, with a posy of violets, and recited a poem to preface our first kiss, I fear I should have despised him.”

  “You preferred someone wicked and arrogant like me?”

  She felt herself blushing in the shadows, nearly overcome with desire for him. “Perhaps.”

  He started to turn toward her and gather her near, and Julia burned to feel his hard maleness pressing between her legs. Already she was wet, yearning, and when the aroused length of him brushed her hip, she knew that he wanted her, too.

  “Sebastian.” Boldly, she reached up and slipped her fingers into his black hair, drawing his head closer to hers, waiting for his arms to tighten around her, aligning their bodies, and for his mouth to claim hers. It had been too long!

  “It’s late. I have a long journey tomorrow and I need rest.” He was disengaging from her. “Please, go to sleep.”

  His words were like a slap.

  The sharp sting of humiliation caused her to roll away from him and turn toward the wall. Covering herself with the sheet, she murmured, “Of course. Good night.”

  She heard him sigh, and thought for a moment that there was something deeper in the sound, but then he fell silent, and eventually she closed her eyes as well.

  * * *

  The bedchamber was still cloaked in darkness when Sebastian rose, feeling as if he hadn’t slept at all. He washed with the aid of a pitcher and bowl, dressed, and sat down carefully on the side of the bed to pull on his boots.

  Of all the nights for Julia to bewitch him so completely! God, what agony to want her so much and yet be unable to make love to her. It just couldn’t be, though, not yet. A little voice in the back of his mind taunted, what harm could it have done to show your wife that you want her?

  “Is it morning?”

  Running both hands through his damp hair, he turned to see Julia sitting up with the sheet tucked over her lovely breasts. “Not quite, but I must go now.” He couldn’t tell her that the tides ordained that he and his men must sail at dawn. “Julia, I apologize if I was abrupt with you during the night. I have a great deal on my mind.”

  Her long, rich hair was appealingly tousled and she blinked at him sleepily. “If you say so, my lord.”

  Sebastian wanted to strip off his clothes and climb back into bed with her, but that was impossible. “I have something for you. A gesture of good faith for the time we are apart.”

  Her expression softened. “What do you mean?”

 
Rising, he went to the armoire and found the blue velvet pouch that Miles Bartholomew had given him in London. After plucking one item from it, he returned to the bed. “This belonged to my mother. I’d like you to have it.”

  As he gave her the ring with its unique miniature of a man’s eye, she looked at it in surprise. “I’ve heard of eye rings, but I’ve never seen anything like this. Is that your—father’s eye?”

  “I suppose so, though it doesn’t look a bit like him. I showed it to Andre Raveneau when we were in London and he suggested that it looks like my eye and that perhaps my mother had it made to remind her of me?”

  “It’s very striking, and I am glad to have it, but I can’t help wondering why are you giving it to me now?”

  “Must you probe beneath the surface of every moment we share?” Sebastian stared at her violet-shadowed face for a long moment, then abruptly reached across to lift her by the waist and bring her, sheet and all, onto his lap. “Devil take it, Julia, just accept it for what it is.”

  Then, unable to stop himself this time, he slid one hand inside the sheet to find her warm, firm breast, and immediately the nipple puckered against his rough palm. Deftly, he turned her upper body and bent her back. He gazed into her startled eyes for a moment, then he was kissing her, his tongue invading the sweetness of her mouth, telling her what he could not say with words. Julia began to moan, arching against him, and he was on fire for her. One more moment and it would be too late.

  “I must go.” It was wrenching to lift his mouth from hers and set her away from him, especially when he heard her soft whimper of protest.

  Sebastian quickly began to gather the rest of his gear. Standing, he looked down at her. “I won’t try to prevent you from seeking adventure because I know you are far too headstrong to obey me, but please, have a care. And Julia, give me one promise.”

  “Wh—what is that?”

  “For God’s sake, stay away from Coombe Hawne.”

  Chapter 23

  “I forgot to ask him how long he would be gone,” Julia said to Tristan as they tramped across the meadow path, headed toward the woods below the Hall Walk.

  Tristan was carrying Daisy in a thick sack, tucked under one strong arm. “I suppose it is hard to know how long such an errand might take.”

  “I still don’t understand why he and Keswick had to go to Severn Park. I am quite certain that we haven’t the money to rent or lease it back from his brother George, and of course the entail prevents any further measures. Severn Park must remain in the possession of the Marquess of Caverleigh, correct?”

  The young man looked uncomfortable. “It would seem so. Of course, I know very little of your husband’s affairs.”

  “You’re awfully quiet today. Is everything all right? Are you enjoying your new occupation?” She gestured toward his uniform as she spoke.

  “I suppose so. I can’t say I enjoy spending time with that windbag Lieutenant Lynton, but I do enjoy the adventure. I had rather missed the Navy.”

  “Is that why you became a Riding Officer? I must confess, it didn’t quite sound plausible when you explained it in our garden, in front of Mr. Lynton. Or perhaps I was just perplexed because your opinions about smuggling were so different from Sebastian’s.”

  “Yes, I am attracted to the adventure of being a Riding Officer,” he replied with a distracted expression. “But it’s also true that I don’t share your husband’s views on smuggling. Cornish people have a history of looking the other way when it comes to free trading, especially when the Crown sets taxes at exorbitant levels, but the fact remains that it is a crime.”

  “That’s what I tried to tell Sebastian last night. I don’t understand why he gets so angry about it.”

  Arriving at the wide promenade of the Hall Walk, the pair crossed over the pathway and descended into the steep, wooded stretch of land that continued to the banks of the River Fowey. Following an old hedgerow, Julia stopped so suddenly that Tristan almost bumped into her.

  “Here we are,” she whispered, pointing into the underbrush where there was a mounded hole with a little pile of leaves and twigs near its entrance. “That’s Daisy’s sett, I believe. I found her snared beside the hedgerow.”

  “Good enough. Let’s release her here, then.” He smiled and added, “I have loved watching badgers near Lerryn Creek since I was a child. The setts, which can be hundreds of years old, are fascinating, and I admire the way they clean house and leave the piles of debris, like old bedding material, outside the entrance. They’re wonderful animals.”

  “I hope so much that Daisy will be welcomed back into her home.”

  “I suppose we must trust in nature. You’ve done all you could within the bounds of logic and decency and now you must leave it up to fate.”

  “Yes,” she replied, considering his words. “It’s a good challenge for me.”

  “Here you go then, my lady.”

  Julia accepted the bag that Tristan put into her arms and sat down next to the hedge of red currant and blackthorn, heedless of her skirts of floral-patterned muslin. “Come on then, darling, are you ready to go home to your family?” Peering inside, she smiled at the sight of two small eyes, bright as stars in the shadowed sack. Her throat was thick with tears as she gently lifted the badger cub out into the gathering twilight. “I shall miss you, dear Daisy.”

  For a moment, the cub seemed to nuzzle its black nose against her cheek.

  “Is that safe?” Tristan wondered aloud. “Badgers can have ferocious teeth, you know.”

  “She trusts me. She was nearly dead when I found her, you know. Her leg is still healing, but Sebastian convinced me that it’s best for her to be back in the sett now that she is out of danger.”

  “Your husband is a wise man.”

  “Do you really think so? He can be quite wicked. And arrogant.” A smile teased the corners of her mouth.

  “Well—yes, perhaps.”

  “Sometimes I dream that I might change him, but I don’t suppose that’s possible.”

  “My lady, it’s more likely that you could train Daisy to live in your house and eat at the dinner table than change Sebastian.”

  Julia blushed. “I know.”

  Tristan paused for a moment, watching her cuddle the badger. “Besides, would you really wish to alter him? What did you have in mind—a civilized gentleman, content to sit by the fire and read? Or perhaps one who quaffs ale and hunts regularly with a pack of hounds?”

  Laughing, she shook her head. “Point taken. It’s just that I sometimes wish he were more…”

  “Yes?”

  “Oh…he can be quite harsh, you know. And, it’s so frustrating to know that he would rather be in Hampshire than here. It seems that Sebastian would rather chase a dream that he may somehow recover Severn Hall than work to make Trevarre Hall a thriving estate again.”

  “I perceive that you’re angry with him.” Though Tristan’s tone was casual, his sea-blue eyes watched her carefully. “Do you really like Cornwall so much?”

  “I adore it,” she exclaimed passionately. “The moment we crossed the River Tamar, I was bewitched, and when I first saw Trevarre Hall, I knew I had come home.”

  “Trevarre Hall?” Tristan repeated, laughing. “With its broken windows and holes in the roof?”

  “Exactly,” Julia replied with a touch of defiance. Then, as the little badger began to squirm in her lap, she looked down. “I fear I may have lingered over this conversation to delay my parting from Daisy. Are you certain it’s dark enough?”

  “Yes, the others are coming out. I heard a badger foraging on the other side of the hedge. In fact, you and I should be on our way. Rub her off with the inside of the sack to diminish the scent of your hands.”

  Her eyes misted as she obeyed him and set the young animal on the ground, expecting her to huddle against her leg as she was wont to do at home. However, Daisy started forward, limping slightly. She had only advanced a few feet when she threw Julia a last parting glance and
waddled off to find the currants that had fallen under the hedgerow. There was something in her manner as she sniffed and looked about that proclaimed her joy that she was back in her true element.

  Julia ached inside, but the feeling was not unpleasant. “Goodbye, Daisy,” she whispered. “I’m glad I could help you. Enjoy your freedom!”

  “Well done, my lady,” Tristan said warmly.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” she replied. “Let’s return to the house and have dinner, shall we? There is some fine soup and bread, left over from last night.”

  * * *

  As the days passed, Julia found plenty of tasks to keep herself busy. The garden was producing more and more, and she rose early, eager to discover what new vegetables were ready to be picked and how many eggs the hens had laid. When she had her hands in the earth, she was happy. Clover often followed her mistress into the courtyard and rubbed her plush gray face against Julia as she worked.

  Later, after breakfast, Julia and Primmie washed windows, aired out the maze of rooms that hadn’t seen daylight in years, and even painted the parlor a shade of palest gold that caught the afternoon sun. And in the afternoons, Julia went off on her own, sometimes walking in the woods, sometimes rowing her little boat in Pont Pill or across the river to Fowey to walk up and down the steep, winding lanes.

  She enjoyed looking in the shop windows, and dreamed of buying a new bonnet, gown, or reticule, but such extravagances were out of the question. Instead, she cherished the eye ring Sebastian had given her. She wore it on a thin gold chain around her neck, tucked into the bodice of her gown, and sometimes before Julia went to sleep alone in the big bed, she held the ring close to the candle flame and studied the tiny, detailed eye, painted by an unknown miniaturist long ago. André Raveneau might be right, she finally decided. It did look like Sebastian’s eye.

  One day, Mr. Platt, the butcher, called out to Julia when he saw her outside his shop and invited her to take a leg of lamb home. When she protested that she had no money to pay him, he insisted, chuckling that he would get it from her husband another day. He made a little package that she could carry in the rowboat, and when she arrived home and opened it, she discovered that he’d included a slab of bacon, a dried cod, and packets of both salt and sugar.