As he reached the open door to the yard, Nash paused. Still no coach.
"Where is it?" Felicity spoke over his shoulder.
"Over there, look." Their coach came around the corner and stopped several yards short of them. Nash had a nasty itch between his shoulder blades, and he knew that usually meant something was wrong. Carling jumped down from the coach and opened the door. He stared at Nash and jerked his head.
"We've got to go over to it. Remember to waddle."
"As if I could forget." Felicity spoke tartly. "You wouldn't believe how even such a small weight upsets your balance."
"Take my arm, and, love, I'm sorry."
Felicity did as he asked and they stepped, or waddled, toward the waiting carriage. "Why are you sorry? I started all this."
"No, your father did."
They had reached Carling, who spoke in a rapid undertone. “I was delayed by the woman's servants, asking questions about with whom and why I was here. I sent him away with a plea in his ear. Then, according to one of the grooms here, if we'd brought the carriage further it’s a devil to turn and get onto the road from there. If I might suggest we move out, sir? Once we're on the move and I'll tell you what I know?"
Nash clapped Carling on the shoulder. "Good idea. Now, love, let me help you in." He put his hands on Felicity's rear and gave her a gentle pat. The look she gave him was one of devilment—and promise, and he grinned. The goose bumps it gave him were so much better than the ones he'd felt when he heard Gussie's voice.
As soon as she disappeared inside Nash followed her. He had hardly settled onto the seat before the carriage moved.
"What was that all about?" Felicity had reached under her skirts and pulled out his cape. "Here. It's a bit crumpled, and your valet would have a fit if he saw it."
"'Tis as well he won't." He shook the garment as best he could in the confined space. It would never be the same again, but to Nash, it was evidence of the bond they shared. He'd never throw it away, however unwearable. "We'll have to hope Cecy has someone who will tend to it. And us. You'll have no lady’s maid, love. Will I do instead?"
Felicity rolled her eyes at him, and wrapped her cloak around her. "You've done very well so far, My Lord." She giggled. "And I must admit, the way you undo my buttons is far nicer than when Tilly does it."
Nash leaned forward. "And if I didn't think Carling was about to come and give me some information about Gussie Gravesend, I'd be more than willing to practice my unbuttoning skills."
Felicity ran her tongue over her lips, and her eyes sparkled. "I don't think you need any practice, My Lord, your skill is superb. But in the spirit of encouragement, and to enable you to hone that mastery, I'm always available."
"That is good to hear." Nash wished to hell that he could take her up on her words. His body had tightened as she spoke, and his prick responded to the invitation in her eyes. However, it wasn't going to happen, not then. "Hold that thought, please."
"Of course. How much longer did you say we would be travelling?"
"About two hours, I believe." Nash took out his watch. "We should arrive by dusk. Why Cecy has to live in the wilds of a moor, I have no idea. No doubt I'm about to find out, though." He glanced out of the window. The road wound high above a river, with farm buildings scattered either side. Something was out of place.
"It doesn't seem very wild." Felicity sounded dubious. "It's pretty, and green and tranquil."
That was what Nash thought. He lifted his arm to bang on the roof. Before he had a chance the coach stopped, and there was the clatter of hooves.
"Sit tight." He reached into a pocket on the side of the coach and took out two pistols. "Can you use this?" Silly question, he well remembered the last time he'd seen her with a pistol in her hands; it had been trained on him.
Felicity took one from him, and cocked it. "Of course. You think this is highwaymen?" She angled herself toward one door, and Nash mirrored her actions toward the other. He admired her calmness. Most well brought up young ladies would have swooned or had hysterics.
"I've no idea, but I don't expect this is the way to Dartmoor." Nash could have kicked himself. He'd been so busy dallying with Felicity he'd let his prick do the thinking not his head. The noise of the horse's hooves had stopped. There was a laugh from outside, and a friendly well-known voice hailed the coachmen. Bastard. Nash spoke loudly; he'd get his own back.
"Shoot if you have to. Aim for the balls. Make sure it's not me."
"Or me." The door opened and Randall got inside. "And put that damned pistol away, brother. I remember last time I got within range of you and a gun. I still have the scars to prove it."
Chapter Twenty
"If you don't tell us what this is all about I could give you another scar to make it a matching pair," Nash said as he lowered his pistol.
Felicity looked from one to the other, and copied Nash's actions. She noticed he didn't put the gun away, and rested hers across her lap. If Nash weren't easy, she wouldn't be either. Surely he didn't suspect his brother of wrongdoing?
"What's going on?" Nash's voice was harsh. "Where are we going, and why is Gussie Gravesend around? I'm sure you'll have the answers."
Randall thumped the roof and the coach began to move. "I've left Jessop to bring my horse whilst I explain. It seems someone knew you were heading to Dartmoor, and an ambush had been planned. Not because of you and Felicity per se, but as a lever to hold over Peregrine. There are some nasty goings on at the moment. We decided to take you to my home instead. It may be smaller, and less isolated, but it's also safer at the moment. Cecy will join us, and her men are going to find out just what's going on.
Her men? Plural? Felicity decided she'd need to ask Nash about that.
"Men? Trust her. Does she have a gang or something?" Nash asked. It seemed he didn't know what Randall meant either.
"Or something," Randall replied. "Anyway, we're almost at Chaldon, welcome to my village."
Felicity turned to look out of the window. Whitewashed houses with neat thatch or tiled roofs, and tidy gardens had replaced the fields. Between them, the river could be seen in the approaching dusk. It looked peaceful, and Felicity decided, safe.
"Let me." Nash took the pistol from her, and put it into his pocket. "I don't think we'll shoot Randall yet."
"Thank you. I appreciate your thoughtfulness." Randall sounded amused. "Here we are. My housekeeper has prepared a room. I assumed you would only want one?" Felicity blushed. She hadn't got used to the way the Brigstocks were so open about everything.
"Of course," Nash answered his brother, and turned to Felicity. "Unless you would prefer to be alone?"
She shook her head. "No," she said simply. "I want to be with you." The smile he gave her sent tingles all over her skin. It was full of promise, and she loved it.
The coach lurched as it turned a corner and drew to a halt. Nash stretched his legs out. "I can't say I'm sorry to have arrived. It's a long and weary way to travel. I now appreciate all we have."
Felicity agreed with him. She wanted to wash the journey off her skin, and to get rid of the ache in her bones and the numbness in her rear.
"Mrs. Batting will have baths drawn, and a meal waiting to be served as soon as you're ready." Randall opened the coach door and got out, followed by Nash who tuned and offered his hand to Felicity. She took it, and reveled in the wave of heat that even that simple connection gave her.
It was a relief to stand outside the coach in the dusk, and admire the neat garden that backed onto the river. A couple of moths fluttered past, and she heard the splash of a duck or some other water bird as it took to the air.
"This is lovely." She spoke sincerely and hoped they'd have a chance to look round.
"A pretty village, and perfect for my needs." Randall ushered them inside.
The house wasn't large, but it felt like a home. A smiling housekeeper greeted them, and within minutes Felicity found herself soaking in a deep bath full of scented steaming water
. She gave a deep sigh. It was almost perfect. Now if only Nash were there it would be perfect. With an inward grin, Felicity closed her eyes and lazed.
"Don't fall asleep in there. You might drown, and as I intend to kiss you, I'd prefer you to be alive and aware." The water level rose and she opened her eyes as it sloshed over the brim. Nash lowered himself into the other end of the bath.
"I told Randall he could have my bathwater. After all he wants to freshen up, and he'd have had to wait otherwise."
"Really?" Felicity grinned. "How altruistic of you."
He grinned back. "Yes, isn't it? It had nothing to do with the fact that if I bathe with you I can do this." He leaned forward, and kissed her nose. "And this." Nash circled her nub with a finger and then pushed deep into her channel. The friction of his digit and the silky water made an incredible combination. Her nerve ends stung, and her quim pulsed. Felicity stretched her arm toward Nash and took a firm hold of his hard cock.
"Oh no, this is for you." His finger moved faster. Felicity couldn't speak as he nipped and stroked her soft skin, and used his finger to fill her channel. Neither did she take her hand off his prick. She needed to touch him, to feel his skin ripple and his cock jump as she tightened and loosened her grip. Her climax hit her in wave after wave of trembles and shivers. How she managed not to shout was a testament to all those times she'd stayed silent when hidden in Nash's house. She took a shuddering breath as gradually her body calmed and her pulse slowed. Her skin still tingled from the intensity of it all, and she wanted to cry. It was almost too much to bear.
"Let go of me while we get out. This water is cool."
"I'm so hot, cool is good." Nevertheless, Felicity released his cock from her hand, and yawned. "I'm so tired."
Nash wrapped her in a towel and rubbed her down as if she was one of his hounds. She didn't mind. It made her feel cherished.
"Once we've eaten you can go to bed, but first we need to speak to Randall. He has news." Nash handed her a simple woolen gown. "We're not dressing up for dinner, there will only be three of us." His voice was strained.
Felicity pulled the dress over her head; pleased it buttoned across her chest and not up the back. "Papa?"
Nash nodded. "Amongst other things." He had toweled himself and dressed in pantaloons and a loose billowing shirt. In spite of her worry, Felicity's mouth was dry. He looked perfect. He noticed her glance and chuckled. "If you look at me like that, love, we'll get no dinner, no answers, and no rest. Later you can have your wicked way with me, but first…" He tugged her to him, to kiss her. Before she had a chance to melt into the kiss he drew back. "Food."
She sighed. "You are a spoilsport. You have me so wound up, I feel tighter than a spring, and now I have to eat food? I would prefer to eat you." Her tummy rumbled. Nash laughed.
"Called out by your stomach."
"So it's hunger that's making me lightheaded, not your lovemaking?" She waked past Nash as he held the door open. The slap to her arse was unexpected and she jumped. "Ow."
"You like it."
She giggled. "True."
****
"So." Felicity put down her spoon. "That was perfect, now can we please talk?"
"Of course." Randall stood and waited until Nash helped Felicity up. "We'll go into my study. There's port and brandy, or madeira."
"Port please. And you can blame Nash for that, he introduced me to it. And I never want to taste brandy again. You can blame Nash for that as well." She glanced at Nash from under her lashes. His eyes sparked with the hint of what was to come once they were alone again.
"I fail to see how you drinking a full bottle of brandy when I was nowhere near is my fault."
"Because you had no water in your study." She replied and laughed as Nash rolled his eyes.
"Women have an answer for everything."
"I wouldn't know, but men aren't far behind." Randall handed glasses of port to them. "Your health and your forthcoming marriage."
Felicity touched glasses with both men and took a sip. The liquid was silky smooth as it slid down her throat.
"I bet this didn't arrive the correct way," Nash said.
Randall winked. "You say that to a former revenue officer?"
"I say that to a Brigstock."
"True. Right, let me tell you what's going on. Firstly, Felicity, your Papa is safe, knows you will not be marrying Peregrine, and will communicate with you when he is able. Welland we can find no trace of."
"Poor Judith, she must be distraught."
Randall dipped his head. "As you say. However I think there was little love lost between him and his wife, and she is well looked after." The way he spoke, and Nash's short bark of laughter was suspicious, but Felicity said nothing. After all, she'd often wondered about the same thing.
"And Papa truly is safe?" The worry about him gnawed at her insides. He may be stubborn, and have no truck for a woman's opinion, but he was her kin, and she had a fondness for him.
"Yes, love. All being well he'll give you to me at our wedding."
"Yes, the wedding, I was coming to that. Gravesend's widow. We," he didn't expand on what he meant by we, "think she is involved in something nefarious, and is a traitor to her country, but we have no concrete proof as yet. She had told people she was to visit a friend of hers on Dartmoor, but are certain she was behind the plot to ambush you. Now Gravesend is dead, it seems she has stepped into his shoes."
"But why? I mean why was it so imperative I marry Peregrine?" Felicity couldn't think it would help anyone.
"Your father was being blackmailed over a silly mistake in his youth. It was hoped that if you married Perry, your papa would be privy to information useful to people who want to harm our country."
"Traitors? Papa is no traitor, and that idea is so thin I can see through it." Felicity was disgusted. "He would never betray his country."
"It would depend on the lever, love."
"What was known could well have disgraced him and exiled him," Randall said to her. "Not now, though. We have seen to that."
"We?"
He grinned and she could see the resemblance to Nash. Same eyes, same nose, and same ears. The Brigstocks were handsome men.
"I'm not saying any more. Except that Cecy will be here tomorrow…well, in the village. She'll stay at one of her husband's houses."
Felicity noticed the strange wording. Something else to ask Nash about.
"She is insistent you need wedding finery, and is arranging for some to be sent here."
Nash groaned. "Can we go fishing?"
"Not a chance. I understand she has clothes for you as well."
Nash stood up and lifted Felicity into his arms. "Then I need rest. A day with Cecy is wearing. Say goodnight to Randall, love, and we'll go and rest."
Randall raided his glass. "I wish I could rest as you're going to. Ah well, soon. Oh and I didn't get round to mentioning it. Your wedding is in three days, and Cecy said something about bad luck for the groom to see the bride on her wedding day before the ceremony, but in your case she thinks it should be longer."
"That settles it. Definitely time to retire. Don't expect us up early either. We’ll not be around for breakfast."
He strode out of the room. Randall's laughter followed them, as Nash took the stairs two at a time and entered their bedchamber. He nipped Felicity's ear and dropped her to bounce on the bed
"I'm up already." He ran his hand over the bulge in his pantaloons.
Felicity placed her hand over her quim. Her tattoo seemed to pulse. All was well.
"I'm so glad. I love you so much. Nash, will it be like this forever? This surge of heat when I look at you? The tingles down my spine, and the need to feel me in you?"
"Always, love, always. Shall I show you just how perfect it is?"
There was no answer needed. She grinned as Nash stepped out of his pantaloons and his cock sprang free to stand hard and proud, and ready. Above it his tattoo showed clearly. Felicity licked her lips and leaned
forward to circle the tip of his cock and taste his juices.
"Undress now," Nash said as his fingers fumbled with her buttons. "I need to be in you. I want to fill you and spill into you. The sight of you earlier as a woman about to give birth, has given me an uncontrollable urge to sow my seed and create our child. To see you swell and grow, to feel our child wriggle inside you, and then to hold he or she in my arms. To know we have created something from both of us." He paused. "Please say you want it as much as I?"
With a calmness she didn't feel, Felicity undid the buttons on her dress and flicked it over her head. She hadn't bothered with any other clothes. "You remember when we did these?" She circled her tattoo. "And we agreed it meant we were as one?" He nodded. "Well, I meant every word. But our one came from two, and I'm sure we can expand it to three or four. Yes, love, I'll be honored to bear our child, and increase our family."
Nash pushed her back onto the bed and edged his cock into her channel. Felicity tightened her muscles and held him tight. "Then let's start trying."
The End
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Nash's Niche (Behind Closed Doors) Page 12