Smuggler's Moon

by Cynthia Wright

  “As my own methods do not seem to be working, perhaps I would do well to follow your advice.”

  “It is not really my advice,” Raveneau told her with an irresistible smile. “Devon would tell you that this is her secret formula for a happy marriage.”

  * * *

  “Are you not going to ask me about Tristan’s visit?”

  Julia stopped in the midst of turning down the bed and looked back toward the newly acquired copper bathtub where Sebastian was enjoying a leisurely soak. Of course, she was longing to ask lots of questions, and give lots of advice, but Raveneau’s wisdom intruded.

  “I will listen if you want to tell me about it,” she said sweetly.

  He arched a brow. “Why don’t you join me, then, and we’ll—talk.”

  The suggestive tone of Sebastian’s voice and the sight of him, brown and gleaming wet in the candlelight, made her weak with desire. Yet, she was also heartsick about the dangerous smuggling run that lay ahead. It was difficult to allow herself to surrender to the deep yearning to be close to him.

  “There is a spot on my back I can’t reach,” he said, and pointed under the water.

  Without another word, Julia shed her clothes. It was such a warm night that the lukewarm water in the tub felt refreshing to her as she stepped in. As she settled down in the small space in front of him, her breasts began to tingle under his smoldering gaze.

  “So much has happened,” she said softly. “But…do you really want to talk?”

  “Not a bit.” He reached for her then. “Ah, my darling, how beautiful you are. I should go very slowly, I know. Kissing you, like this…”

  Julia groaned when his mouth covered hers and his tongue began to work its magic.

  “And I should touch you,” he muttered, “like this…”

  She found herself climbing onto his wet lap, straddling him shamelessly as his fingers strayed under the water to find the swelling core of her. The slick water heightened each sensation as he touched her, lightly pinching and stroking, until she began to move against his hand in a timeless rhythm.

  “I also know,” he was whispering, “that you would love it if I would do this…”

  And then his dark head dipped and his mouth fastened on her tender nipple, suckling with just the right amount of pressure. Somehow, he knew exactly what she needed and wanted. Currents of arousal traveled down from her breasts, heightening the sensations that were building to a crescendo between her legs. When Julia felt his fingers slide inside her, probing, it was as if a dam burst. She was trembling as she climaxed, her head thrown back, her breasts pushing against his muscled chest.

  “I should take more time for you,” he was murmuring again, “but all I want to do is be inside you, just like—” And then he lifted her hips with his strong hands and brought her in contact with his erection, “—this. Yes. Oh, God, Julia, yes.”

  The shock of him filling her as she was climaxing brought another, even stronger wave of contractions. She could feel herself gripping him as she pushed up on her knees and then came back down. Both of them were heedless of the water that splashed from the copper tub, heedless of Dick the cat who scuttled under the bed in alarm, heedless of their muffled cries as they clung together, thrusting, until almost in unison they found a fulfillment that defied words.

  Julia sank her fingers into his thick, wet hair and kissed him, pushing her tongue past his teeth and into his mouth as he had taught her to do. Sebastian cupped her buttocks and angled himself so that he was as deep inside her as it was possible to go, and then she felt the throb of his lips disengaging from hers.

  “Julia,” he said in a harsh whisper, “look at me.”

  Their eyes were just inches apart and what she saw made her heart soar. She tried to speak, but the only sound she could make was a little sob.

  “I love you,” said Sebastian. “Do you believe me?”

  She was nodding, weeping now. “Yes! I love you, too.”

  “My darling.” He moved slightly inside her and groaned. “More.”

  “Let’s go to bed,” Julia agreed, laughing a little through her tears.

  Sebastian reached for a towel and lifted her, dripping, to her feet. “For God’s sake, hurry. I want you again.”

  “This time, my lord, I am going to make you wait for it,” she promised, and boldly put her hand on him. “I have been taking lessons from the master…”

  Chapter 33

  Julia opened her eyes to sunlight and a pleasurable aching between her legs. Her nostrils twitched; she caught the faint scent of their coupling in the sheets, and it had an aphrodisiac effect on her. As impressions and sensations coursed through her memory, she was wet again, lusting for her husband.

  Turning on the pillow, seeking his warm, protective body, she found that she was alone. The spell was broken.

  “My lady?” came Primmie’s voice from the corridor. “Be you awake yet?”

  Hastily, Julia scrambled to snatch her nightgown from the floor near the cold bathtub. Pulling it over her head, she called, “Of course. What is it, Primmie?”

  “A boy do come here, at dawn, saying that you would know him. I think he be sick, my lady.”

  “What time is it now?”

  “Mid-morning, my lady. We do begin to worry about you.”

  Julia dressed as quickly as she could, twisted her sable hair into a knot atop her head, and rushed downstairs. How could she have slept so late? Of course, she and Sebastian had been up what seemed like most of the night, but the notion that she’d slumbered past ten o’clock was outrageous!

  Coming into the kitchen, Julia discovered a thin, pale young man with lank brown hair sitting in a chair near the hearth. Mrs. Snuggs was offering him something in a bowl, and when Julia entered, the old woman looked up.

  “Mayhap you be wantin’ to see to this sad fellow, my lady!”

  “My goodness, it’s Mr. Colvithick, isn’t it?” Julia exclaimed as she drew near.

  “Yes, my lady,” he said miserably.

  “I am so surprised to see you here!” Feeling Mrs. Snuggs’s curious glance, she broke off. “Mrs. Snuggs, where is my family?”

  “Mayhap ye know that his lordship goes off again, with Keswick, afore sun-up. Yer mum and the others went to Truro, to visit Mr. Pippet’s cousins. Mrs. Faircloth says you do know of their plans.”

  “Oh yes. I remember now.” She tried to think of a reason to send the old woman out of the room so she could speak freely to Colvithick. “Will you kindly see to the bath that is still in our bedchamber? Perhaps Mr. Snuggs can help you.”

  “Hmph!” was the old woman’s reply, but she obeyed.

  Realizing suddenly that she was very hungry, Julia took two ripe figs from a blue bowl and sat down near the hearth. “Why are you here, Mr. Colvithick? Is something amiss?”

  “I be ailing, my lady. Keswick do send me here. He says you’ll look after me until they return.”

  “And what exactly is wrong with you?”

  “Food won’t stay down. I be feverish as well.”

  She touched his brow and found it cold and clammy. Perhaps the fever had broken. “I’ll have Primmie make a cot for you in one of the spare rooms. My brother has been sleeping there, but he is away in Truro.”

  Just then, Primmie appeared in the doorway. “My lady! You’ll never believe it! Clover’s just birthed a litter of kittens in your dressing room, and that rogue Dick be struttin’ about looking mighty proud. Come and see!”

  * * *

  Julia was grateful to Clover for the diversion her kittens provided over the next thirty-six hours, for she had little chance to worry about Sebastian. There were six adorable balls of fluff, three gray and three orange tiger-striped, and one of the little orange males wouldn’t nurse or even lie close to his mother.

  Julia kept the kitten warm and tried feeding him warm milk squeezed from a soft cloth. She dipped the cloth in milk and twisted it, hoping the kitten would nurse from it. Finally, a full day later, whe
n she feared he might die, they tried taking the other kittens away and bringing the outlier to his mother by himself. At last, as he snuggled up to Clover began to nurse, there was general celebration among Julia, Primmie, and Mrs. Snuggs.

  It was past six o’clock in the evening when she went to find some dinner. On her way down the corridor, she peeked into Freddy’s room and saw Colvithick sitting on the side of his narrow bed, apparently examining something that he held in his hands.

  “Ah, you must be feeling better!” she exclaimed. “I’m pleased. I know I haven’t been much of a nurse; our cat has unexpectedly had kittens and one has struggled to survive.”

  The face he turned up to her was wretched. “No matter, my lady.”

  “Can I get you a plate of food?”

  “Oh, no, my lady.” As he spoke, he fumbled with something that jangled, stuffing it under his pillow. “I be fair tired. Goin’ to sleep now.”

  It wasn’t long before Julia went to bed herself, but alone in the gathering darkness, all she could think of was Sebastian and the rest of the crew. At least they were sailing Raveneau’s fast sloop. With a good wind, they would land in a few hours.

  “My lady!”

  She sat up in alarm. “Mrs. Snuggs? Is that you?”

  “Aye, my lady!” She held a candlestick up, the wavering flame illuminating her craggy face. “That boy, the one who says he be sick—something’s not right. No sooner do Mr. Snuggs and me go to bed than I hear him rummagin’ in the kitchen! When I do peek in, I seen him carry a cold chicken from the larder! “

  Julia got out of bed, all her instincts on alert. She put on a cotton wrapper over her nightgown, took a candlestick from the bedside table, and followed Mrs. Snuggs downstairs. Recalling the image of Colvithick pushing something under his pillow, she turned to the housekeeper.

  “I will ask you to go to the kitchen and try to keep our guest occupied. Offer to feed him or find some other distraction. Perhaps he’d like a drink!”

  When Mrs. Snuggs had hurried off on her mission, Julia entered Freddy’s room and went straight to Colvithick’s bed. Reaching under the pillow, she discovered a leather drawstring bag filled with coins, some of them guineas. Her heart began to pound. What could it mean?

  She looked around and saw his soiled coat draped across the arm of a chair. When she searched through the pockets, she found a folded piece of paper, quickly plucked it out, and began to read.

  “Do not sail with Trevarre’s ship. Plead illness and stay behind. Hide the money. Wait for word from me after it is over.” The cryptic note was signed with a large, flowing L.

  Waves of terrified panic swept over Julia and for a moment, she thought she might be ill right there on the threadbare tapestry carpet. Instead, however, she straightened her shoulders, took several deep breaths, and went in search of Drew Colvithick.

  Mrs. Snuggs had apparently taken him prisoner in the kitchen. She stood over him at the table while he lifted a spoonful of gruel to his mouth and grimaced at it.

  “I would have a word with you, young man.” Holding up the bag of coins, Julia continued, “Explain yourself. Quickly!”

  “Ohh…my lady! Thank the good Lord you’ve found me out. I do be guiltier than Judas this past day!”

  “Tell me, then. Hurry!”

  He covered his face with his hands and began to sob. “It were that Lieutenant Lynton. He do hear me say things that made him suspicious, and he says that he be giving me enough gold to feed my family for years.” Shaking his head, he added, “I confess that I were drinking, my lady.”

  Julia stood listening, a cold chill spreading over her body. “What exactly did he pay you to do?”

  “When the plan were made for this run, I be in the Ferry Inn, near enough t’ hear the captain talk to Keswick, Jasper, and Lord Senwyck.”

  “And you told Mr. Lynton where they would land? And when?”

  Colvithick hung his head and nodded. “Aye, my lady. God save me, it be true. I do try to back out, but he says if I refuse, he’ll send the press-gang for me!”

  “And what of Lord Senwyck? Please say that you did not betray him to Mr. Lynton!”

  He cowered before her and began to sob again. “Lord Senwyck were to signal with the spout lantern from the cliffs, that it be safe for the longboat to come ashore.”

  Mrs. Snuggs looked over the boy’s head at Julia and rolled her eyes in disgust.

  “I want you to get dressed, Mr. Colvithick,” said Julia in crisp tones. “Put on your boots. You are going to take me to the beach where the landing will occur tonight. It is up to us to save his lordship and the crew from the Revenue men!”

  * * *

  Julia put on her brother’s breeches, shoes, and coat, and was grateful to discover that they all fit her quite well. She rode Sally, her favorite mare, and Colvithick was astride his own horse, which appeared rather undernourished.

  “Are you sure they aren’t going to Coombe Hawne?” Julia shouted to him as he led the way down a wooded lane toward the shore.

  “No, my lady, his lordship do plainly say Lansallos Cove.”

  “And you’re certain you know the way?”

  “Aye, my lady.”

  She’d never been to Lansallos before. It was so very dark, with virtually no moon, and the wooded lanes they traveled were unfamiliar to her, even by daylight. And when she realized that she had foolishly forgotten to bring a weapon, it was far too late to go back.

  Up and down hills they rode, through openings in hedgerows, past stone farmhouses, stiles, and signposts that were impossible to read in the darkness. At length, they reached more level meadows, and Julia could tell by the shape of the horizon that they were nearing the coast.

  Colvithick slowed when an ancient church came in sight to the west. It sat up on a high bank, its square granite tower silhouetted against the dark sky.

  “That be Lansallos Church, my lady. We must leave the horses here and go on by foot.”

  It occurred to Julia, as they tethered their horses and entered a pathway surrounded by dense foliage, that the boy could be leading her to her death. Although she normally would have wanted to take control, she had no choice but to trust Colvithick, and she cared for nothing except getting to Sebastian. Nothing else mattered. For the first time, she understood why people prayed and evoked the fates. That was all she could do. Her heart raced, but then she took more deep breaths and scrambled on after Colvithick.

  This was the only chance she had to save her husband, and it came to her that she would die for him, just as she knew he would die for her. She’d felt it the last time they had made love, the forging of a deeper, more intimate bond than either of them had experienced before.

  A narrow stream went rushing past near the slippery, downhill slope of the path. It was almost impossibly dark. Julia stayed close to Colvithick, who did his share of stumbling, but at least he was a shape that she could see ahead in the blackness. On and on the path went, crossing back and forth over the stream.

  “Good God, does it never end?” Julia cried at one point.

  “It be a mile or more,” he replied. “They do choose it because they think Excise Men never want to work this hard to look for smugglers.”

  Just then, as they approached a fork in the path, Julia heard a groaning sound.

  “What was that?” Part of her wanted to keep going, even to run away, for it might very well be a Customs Officer or some other enemy. Yet, her instincts said otherwise. “Who is it?”

  The sound came again and she felt a chill of recognition.

  “It be over here, my lady,” said Colvithick. He crossed the stream and rustled around in some hawthorn shrubs. “Saints be praised, it’s Lord Senwyck!”

  Julia clambered over a jumble of tree roots to join him. There on the ground, bound and gagged, lay Tristan. He appeared to be unconscious, but still moaned softly.

  “Oh, Tristan, what have they done to you? Drew, help me to untie him!”

  Working together, they
managed to free Tristan, but his eyes remained closed.

  “Mayhap he be drugged, my lady,” said Colvithick.

  “We’ll have to leave him here for now, but we’ll be back.” She knelt down, cradling Tristan’s head in her lap. “We’ll return, dear friend. Don’t worry; just rest.”

  With that, they positioned him on his side closer to the shrubs and started off again toward the beach. They soon came out of the wooded path and onto the cliffs overlooking the English Channel.

  Instinctively, because there was no moon to light the view, Julia stepped behind a nearby shrub and brought Colvithick with her.

  “I can scarcely see a thing,” she whispered.

  “Aye, my lady. It be a smuggler’s moon.”

  A now-familiar chill swept over her at his words, and she realized that the lack of moonlight, clearly desired by Sebastian and his crew, could have more than one consequence. True, it would keep unsuspecting Customs men from noticing a landing, but if they did indeed suspect and then plan an ambush, the smugglers would become the victims.

  Just then, she noticed something on the ground. It was a strange metal object with a long, hollow projection extending off one side.

  “It be Lord Senwyck’s spout lantern,” fretted Colvithick, kicking it with his shoe. “As soon as he lit it and uncovered the spout to signal to the ship the coast be clear, the Riding Officers doubtless knocked him down and did carry him off.”

  She was so angry that she could barely speak. “What have you done, you foolish boy?”

  Taking a deep breath, Julia turned her attention to the rocky cove below them. Dimly, she saw a mist-draped beach punctuated by a piece of cliff that made a high wall, extending into the sand toward the sea and separating the beach into two parts. In the distance, a lean, graceful sloop lay at anchor on the glimmering water. A longboat filled with dark objects could be seen rowing toward the beach.

  “Look there,” breathed Colvithick, and pointed down to the high rocky spine that bisected the beach.

  Julia thought that her heart might leap out of her chest when she saw them. Behind the protruding cliff, there were at least a dozen uniformed Riding Officers, muskets at the ready, crouching in wait for their unsuspecting prey.