by S Cinders
“I am right here!” Henry barely controlled the urge to stomp his foot like a child. This was not how things were supposed to go!
“He seems out of sorts,” Rigal observed.
Samantha blushed, “Well, he did have a very difficult time sleeping last night, so that could have put him out of temper. I do find that when I do not get my rest, I am quite at sixes and sevens.”
“Have you tried warm milk, Cap'n’?” Rigal suggested.
And Henry went to the other side of the cave washing his hands of the both of them.
CHAPTER 14
Back at the Chatterling, things were not progressing well with the other teams during this infamous game of Hide and Seek. James, having no desire to be trapped in a small cupboard with the Dowager, had promptly led her into the maze.
The only issue with this decision was that James had a deplorable sense of direction and the only person with a worse case of this disease in this world had to be the Dowager Marchioness of Lancaster.
Had they taken four lefts and then a right? Or was it three lefts a right and then a left? James did not know nor did he care, all that he knew was that if Randall’s mother harped at him one more time he might break the ultimate cardinal sin and hit a woman.
“Do you know, if my Randall were here, we would have been in the middle of the maze ages ago?”
James ground his teeth, “Yes, I am certain he is the smartest man in all the land.”
“You are in impudent American boy!” she snapped at him.
“Thank you,” he responded with a cheeky grin just to rile her.
“We should go left. I know that I read somewhere that when lost in a maze you must always take left turns.”
He deliberately went right.
“I say! Did you not hear me? Is the left hand different in America? It is the one of the left in England. Oh, blast and bother, I never should have allowed Eden to coerce me into playing this silly game.”
James looked at the older woman, “I am going to climb the hedge to see where we are at.”
She was mortified, “That is cheating! You most certainly will do no such thing! What did your parents teach you in that heathen country of yours? No James Stanford! You will not climb that hedge. You will take my arm, and we shall deduce this maze in a thrice like the civilized people we are.”
This was two hours ago.
If James had a gun, he would have used it. But he could not have honestly said who he would have used it on.
***
Miss Vivian Pressmiser was the younger sister of Lady Lucy Reeder. Blonde and vivacious, she was everything that was amiable and light, much like the sunlight as it shines through a picture glass window onto the afternoon rug where the kitchen cat is napping.
It really was a shame that she had to be paired up with Ian Stanford. He was the sternest of the Duke’s siblings, often finding fault where none was needed. Ian never wanted to leave America and made no bones about his distrust of England and their gentry.
Ian related to horses. They were simple creatures who were loyal and trustworthy. Vivian grew up in the country but was allergic to anything that grew fur including horses, dogs, cats, goats, sheep, and too much more to name.
She tried to warn him when he pulled her towards the stables that it might not be the greatest of places for her to hide.
“Mr. Stanford, perhaps we could try the gazebo or the conservatory?”
Vivian’s cheerful tones grated on Ian’s nerves. What was wrong with the stables? Did she think she was too good to be out there?
“No, this is the best place,” he grumbled as he picked up his pace.
Vivian had her hand tucked into his elbow, and so she hadn’t a choice but to stumble along after him. “Mr. Stanford, we could also hide in a tree, I am very adept at tree climbing.”
“I have no desire to climb any trees today, Miss Pressmiser.”
Ian rolled his eyes, thankful that the little piece of fluff was so much smaller than he was so that she couldn’t see how irritating she was to him. It was not only difficult to deal with such a distraction. She smelled like cinnamon and lavender, and it was a heady combination. But she wouldn’t stop talking!
Throwing back the door to the stables he fairly dragged her to the last stall.
“Stay here; I will be right back,” he pushed her into the stall and closed it.
“But,” Vivian tried to protest, but Ian had left. The straw on the ground was fresh which she did greatly appreciate. However, she was highly allergic to that as well.
Vivian could feel her breath becoming labored. She stood tall, as far away from it as possible, but as the minutes ticked on she knew that it was only getting worse. And then something jumped on her shoulders. The tail wrapping around her delicate chin.
“Oh, darling cat, you have to stay away from me!” Vivian begged the cat as she began to feel the welts on her face raise. Knowing that it was becoming dangerous, she gently extracted herself from the cat and opened the door to the stall.
Not seeing Mr. Stanford, she started walking to the end of stables. It was then that he rounded the corner and saw her leaving.
His tone was utterly disgusted, “You couldn’t lower yourself to wait for ten minutes while I checked the new geldings?”
Vivian turned to face him, and his eyes widened in fear. Her breathing was labored, and her face and neck were covered in hives. She wheezed out, “I am sorry to disappoint, sir, but I am highly allergic, and I don’t wish to die here.”
She took a stumbling step towards the outside door.
Ian raced to her side.
“Don’t touch me!” Vivian shrieked. “You have been touching the horses. It will only make it worse.”
Ian looked on in horror, feeling helpless. He raced to the house shouting for help. Suddenly people came from everywhere, the game halted and his brother Oliver, the Duke carried her inside.
“What happened?” his brother Jacob asked with a white face.
“My stubborn idiocy almost killed her,” Ian cried out.
Jacob’s eyes flashed to his brothers, “What? That cannot be.”
Ian sighed, “She kept telling me that she didn’t want to go to the stables and I all but forced her to. I had no idea she was allergic to them.”
“Do you think she will recover?”
Ian swallowed hard, “Perhaps it is time to pray.”
Jacob looked at his brother’s departing back in shock, knowing that his brother was not a religious man and that the last time they had prayed was when his mother had taken ill.
These were grave times indeed.
CHAPTER 15
It wasn’t until the grand party started preparing for supper that they realized that two of their teams had not returned when Miss Pressmiser had taken ill.
Immediately a few of the men rallied together in a search party. It wasn’t much time after that they found a completely worn and entirely weepy Dowager Marchioness of Lancaster and an extremely stony-eyed, somber-faced James.
Indeed, if his brothers had ever seen him this blue deviled, they couldn’t think of when. James didn’t even speak above a whisper. He thanked the men for rescuing them. Bowed over the Dowagers' hand in the most perfunctory way and was off to his rooms.
Feeling relieved at having rescued the first team, the men went out in search of Mr. Harris and Miss Shore. But it was as if they had managed to erase themselves from the very face of the earth.
Lord Benjamin Shore was livid, “Do you mean to tell me that this was all a ruse?”
His eyes were spitting fire as he eyed one of his best mates, Lord Phillip Randall.
“Not a ruse, precisely, but we needed a reason to be on the coast that the French wouldn’t suspect,” Randall answered carefully.
Shore’s eyes blazed, “We, meaning your idiot group of spies from the war office. Dammit all, Randall, this is my sister! If anything happens to Samantha, I will have your head for this!”
Randall nod
ded, “I never wanted her involved, nor did I think it would touch her. If I thought she was to be in any danger, I wouldn’t have allowed the women to come. Do you think I want Eden or Juliana to be hurt? Think man!”
Shore rubbed a large hand against his face, “So, what do we do?”
“Harris is with her, he is our top operative, she could not be in better hands,” Randall tried to assure his friend. “I don’t know what happened when we were playing that game or what they stumbled upon. But I do know that Harris has saved many lives including my own. He will get her out of this. I would stake my life on it.”
***
“Rig! Look, I have caught one! Did you see? I caught one. It is a beauty!” Samantha danced back and forth with the large slippery fish on the end of the line.
“Right you have there, love. It is a nice one!” Rigal came to her aid, slipping it off the hook and into his fishing basket.
Samantha flashed her glowing smile over at Henry who for a moment was struck by the sheer magnificence of her. Samantha’s hair had escaped its confines and was trailing around her shoulders in a mass of dark waves.
Her cheeks were pink from her exertion much like they had been when he had brought her to completion. He silently groaned at the thought of his hands in her wet heat. She was perfect, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She even made being kidnapped fun, and he never wanted to be parted from her.
“I am an excellent fisherman,” she boasted saucily.
Henry smiled, “That you are, Miss Stretch.”
Samantha dimpled at this use of her name, “I see you are struggling with catching any of your own.”
Henry raised a brow, “Are you saying that I don’t have what it takes because I can assure you I come equip ped entirely for the job .”
Samantha giggled naughtily, “I have it on the highest of authority that you have magnificent equipment.”
“You little minx,” he reached out and pulled her flush against his hardening erection. Whispering in her ear, he said, “I am about to introduce you to my magnificent equipment again. Despite your new friend Rig over there.”
“What are we going to do about him?” she asked, for the first time a look of worry crossed her brow. “Please do not hurt him, Henry.”
Henry starred, “Me? You do not want me to hurt him? Samantha, he has the gun and is holding us hostage. He is smuggling information to the French army. And you do not want me to hurt him?”
Samantha smiled happily, “Oh, thank goodness, I was ever so worried that you wouldn’t understand.”
She took his cheeks in her small hands, “You are such a good man Henry, I do believe I am falling madly in love with you.”
And then she kissed him.
And that is how Wellington’s finest, the top spy for the war office, Lt. Colonel Henry Harris, decided that he was going to figure out a way to let this blackguard that Samantha called ‘Rig’ affectionately go. All because the love of his life had found something redeeming in him.
Maybe it was time to get out of the war business after all.
CHAPTER 16
“Oh, no!” Rig startled the lovers apart waving the gun about. “None of that lovey stuff, we can’t have you making youngin’s on my watch .”
Samantha flushed, “Goodness Rig, I wasn’t about to go that far!”
Rig grinned, “It’s a slippery slope deary! One never does mean to go very far and the next thing you know you are paying the vicar to baptize the brat. No, no, no, it is better that you keep a good distance between you. Your family will thank me later, miss.”
“You really are a dear man, Rig,” she cooed, and he flushed right up his ruddy cheekbones.
“Go on with you now! We need to finish cooking these fish. I have them cleaned up properly.”
Samantha helped gather sticks while a fire was made and soon the heavenly smells filled the little cave. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of fresh fish. She was much hungrier than she could have anticipated.
They all ate with relish and had plenty to eat with the one large fish that she had caught and the four that Rig had pulled out.
After cleaning things up and dousing the fire, Samantha asked him, “Rig, what are your plans with us?”
“I reckon, I will take you back on my next run,” he scratched his head as if he hadn’t honestly thought it through.
“To France, you mean?” Samantha asked tentatively.
“Yes, love,” he answered. “You will like it there, miss. I can take you to where my lady bird is, and she can see what is to be done with you.”
Henry knew that Rig meant well, but his ladybird friend was most likely a prostitute, and there was no way in hell that Samantha would be joining a brothel. Not wanting to cause any problems he remained mute.
“Does she have a nice home?” Samantha asked.
“Oh goodness, yes,” Rig beamed, “There are lots of ladies that live there and gentleman call on them all the time.”
Samantha’s eyes flashed to Henry’s in alarm. It would seem that she too had an inkling of what type of establishment that Rig had in mind.
“How, erm, delightful,” she said faintly.
Rig went about settling down for the night, “We have a few hours until the run. It would be best if you got some sleep, miss. I will watch and make sure that you are safe.”
He looked over at Henry, “Don’t try anything stupid. I don’t want to hurt either of you.”
Henry raised his hands innocently, “I am not going to do anything stupid.”
Samantha shivered in her dress, “It is cold out here, Rig. I am going to lay closer to Henry. I promise just to lay by him. Is that all right?”
Rig eyes narrowed by he nodded in agreement.
Samantha scooted her back into Henry’s warmth, and they lay on the cool rock floor of the cave.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
It was so quiet that Henry almost didn’t hear it. He quickly glanced at Rig to see if he had heard it, but the stout man looked as if he hadn’t.
Henry edged his way closer, so his lips touched the tip of her ear, “Do not be afraid, my love. I am here.”
It was all she needed to feel secure, that and his large arms wrapped around her. She didn’t sleep, but she was able to get some comfort from his closeness which was precious to her just the same.
***
It seemed that it was only moments before Henry was shaking her awake, “Samantha, we have to leave.”
She blinked and saw that he was standing beside her holding Rig’s gun.
“You killed him!” she wailed. “You promised that you wouldn’t! Oh, how could you, Henry, I thought that you understood.”
Henry’s lips twitched, “Not a morning person, duly noted. He isn’t dead, or even unconscious. He is however outraged and immobilized. He fell asleep right after you did and I tied him up with my cravat and part of your petticoats.”
Samantha raised a hand to her breast, “How dare you steal my petticoats!”
“I know, dastardly of me,” Henry could not contain the smirk that slipped through, “however, it beats becoming a French Madam does it not?”
Samantha sighed, “Well when you put it that way, it does make it hard to argue.”
“Can we discuss this later? Perhaps when there are not French soldiers and pirates coming to kill us?”
She popped up, “Of course, why didn’t you say so? Where is Rig?”
“Tied up at the mouth of the cave, he is the bait, but I need to get you back to Chatterling and alert Randall to bring in more soldiers.”
“I can do that,” Samantha put her hand on his chest, “You don’t need to come all the way back with me. I can get Randall, you stay here and fight.”
Henry shook his head, “I can’t let anything happen to you. What if you are intercepted?”
“No one is looking for a woman, they never are,” Samantha insisted. “I can do this. Let me help you.”
He gazed into
her perfect face, “I love you, Samantha. Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
Her eyes grew round in surprise, “You do?”
He smiled, “I do. Now go, and bring back Randall and anyone else that can handle a gun.”
He kissed her hard on the mouth showing her just how much he cared for her and how much he needed her.
“I love you too, Henry.”
“I know,” he said huskily, slapping her on the behind.