‘Nonsense,’ said Ross. ‘Bonaparte is using religion for his own ends.’
‘No, I have proof—letters, assurances—that it is so,’ declared Phineas. ‘People are free to worship as they please, whereas here, the government is going out of its way to appease Rome!’
‘But is that reason enough for you to turn spy?’ asked Charity.
Phineas looked at her in surprise. ‘I am no spy. It is only a matter of time before the Emperor is victorious. I am just doing what is necessary to speed up the matter. The sooner we are united under Bonaparte and this godforsaken government is brought down the better.’
‘And just when did you start helping the French?’ demanded Armstrong.
‘Let me guess,’ put in Ross. ‘Five years ago, was it not? That is how you came by the money to buy this house and turn yourself from a poor preacher into a wealthy magistrate. You turned traitor, took French silver like a Judas. How do you reconcile that with your conscience?’
Phineas shrugged. ‘It is the Lord’s work and He moves in mysterious ways. I merely passed on the information when it came, and the money I received I made use of. I am helping the emperor restore righteousness to the world. I will be acknowledged as the new St Cuthbert, bringing light—’
Ross uttered a snort of derision.
‘You deluded fool, you would betray your fellow countrymen for that?’
‘What would you know of it?’ snarled Phineas. ‘True Christians will revere me—it was because of my efforts, my exhortations, that the emperor did away with the Republican calendar last year—’
Charity shrank closer to Ross, staring in horror at her father’s crazed face.
‘He is insane.’ She whispered the words, but Phineas heard her and drew himself up.
‘I am the Lord’s instrument. I have turned Beringham into a God-fearing place—’
‘You have turned it into a drear, despondent town where people are afraid even to smile,’ retorted Ross. ‘The poor resort to illegal drinking dens and mills, while those who can afford it go to Allingford for their entertainment.’ He put his hand on Charity’s shoulder. ‘And even there you would deprive them of their brightest star. But no more.’ He stepped back. ‘Take them away, John. The game is up, Weston. You and your wife will stand trial—’
‘Not me!’ screeched Hannah, jumping to her feet. ‘I knew nothing about his spying.’
‘But you colluded with him in every other way,’ retorted Ross. ‘You schemed with him to ruin me—’
‘He forced me to it! Phineas wanted Wheelston. He came to me when I was nursing your mother, told me to run it into the ground so he could buy it cheaply.’
Captain Armstrong grinned at Ross.
‘There’s your proof, Durden. A confession in front of impeccable witnesses.’
Hannah flew across the room and threw herself against Ross. ‘He forced me to give you up, Ross. He forced me to bring the blasphemy charge against you, he told me what to say, which phrases would do most harm, and he paid Sir James, and Keldy and Hutton to bear witness—’
Ross put her away from him, saying with contempt, ‘And did he force you to marry him, too?’
‘Yes! How could you think I would prefer him to you?’
‘Easily, since he was so rich.’
Hannah clutched at his hand and gazed up at him.
‘I was frightened of him, Ross. Terrified. But now he is found out and I shall be free, free to come back to you—I have always loved you.’
He shook her off and turned away. ‘Pray do not shame yourself even further, Hannah. Anything I felt for you died a long time ago. You killed it.’
‘So you will go back to that slut! She is a servant, the contract is signed, you will have to wait seven years for the harlot—’
‘Enough, madam!’ Captain Armstrong’s voice cracked like a whip across the room, bringing immediate silence. ‘You have said enough to convict yourself of perjury. You will be taken to York, together with your husband, to answer all the charges.’ He waved to the other officers to take them away, waiting until the door closed behind them all to turn to Ross.
‘A good day’s work, my friend, and it will be profitable, too, for you. With the woman’s confession I think you have every chance that your prize money will be returned, and there is a reward for breaking up this little spy ring. Besides that, I visited, er, friends while I was in London. The blasphemy charge has been stricken from your record and you are reinstated as a captain in his Majesty’s navy.’
‘But the Dark Rider—’ put in Charity.
Captain Armstrong regarded her with a serious gaze.
‘Madam, I know of no evidence to link Captain Durden with highway robbery, do you?’
‘Why, no, none at all.’
‘Then the allegations are merely further evidence of Magistrate Weston’s malicious intent to smear the name of this honest officer. And as for you, madam—’ his eyes softened ‘—you need not worry about that contract. It was signed under duress and is therefore worthless. You are free to return to the stage, Mrs Weston. I saw you play at Scarborough and, if you will forgive my saying so, it is where you belong.’
‘Oh, no, it isn’t.’ Ross took her hand. ‘She belongs with me, as my wife.’
Charity had been listening to it all and feeling slightly bemused, but now she tried to collect her wits. Her heart clenched as she saw the warm glow in Ross’s eyes.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked him anxiously. ‘Are you sure you want to marry someone whose father is a traitor?’
He pulled her closer.
‘My darling girl, I have never been more certain of anything in my life.’ He drew her into his arms and kissed her. She responded eagerly, leaning into him, feeling the hard arousal of his body against her own.
When he released her mouth she remained within the comfort of his arms, her head thrown back against his shoulder. He raised one hand and ran his fingers through the tumbling golden locks.
‘“If a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her”,’ he murmured lovingly, then said with a sigh, ‘I should take you home.’
She gazed up at him and said shyly, ‘I am home, Ross. I am with you.’
She saw the flame leap in his dark eyes. He swooped on her again, kissing her with a ruthless efficiency that left her weak.
‘Ahem.’
They broke apart, Charity flushing vividly and Ross giving a self-conscious laugh when they remembered Captain Armstrong’s presence.
‘I take it you will not be escorting the prisoner to York, Durden?’
‘Ah, no. I have a more pressing engagement, unless you have need of me?’
‘I shall leave a couple men here to search the house, but I think a half dozen sailors will be able to get those two safely to their destination.’ He looked at them, a quizzical smile in his eyes. ‘May I be the first to wish you joy?’
‘Oh, no,’ cried Charity, flustered. ‘That is—’
‘Yes,’ Ross interrupted her, grinning. ‘Thank you, John!’
‘Good. Then I will be off—’
‘Wait, John, I—’ Ross turned to Charity. ‘Do you have a cloak, dearest?’
‘Y-yes, it must still be in the study.’
‘Then fetch it, my love, while I accompany Captain Armstrong to the door.’
* * *
Charity missed the warmth and strength of Ross’s arm about her as she made her way to the study to collect her cloak. The room was in chaos, papers and pens scattered over the desk where Phineas had tried to reach across and grab her, one chair overturned and the lectern still on the floor. The family Bible was half-hidden under the desk, one of the covers hanging off. She had challenged her father, fought against the terror he had always instilled in her, and she had survived. He could not hurt her any
more; she could forget him and get on with her own life. Turning away, she picked up her cloak and went back to the hall.
Ross was in the doorway, talking earnestly with Captain Armstrong, but they broke off when they saw her coming towards them. The captain gave her a smile and a brief salute before striding away. Ross opened his arms and she walked into his embrace as if it was the most natural thing in the world. For a moment he held her close, his cheek resting on her head, then he took her arm and said briskly, ‘Home, then, my love!’
* * *
It took some time to find a carriage to carry them to Wheelston, and dawn was already breaking by the time they arrived.
They spent the journey wrapped in each other’s arms, and in the short periods of time between kisses Charity explained to Ross just what had happened to her in the days they had been apart.
‘So Phineas never harmed you?’
She heard the anxiety in his voice. ‘No. He had to let me go back to Allingford to prepare for my final performance.’ She shuddered. ‘If Hannah had not been so desperate to have the money from that as well as everything else, he would have shaved my head as soon as I had signed the forms.’
‘Poor love.’ His arms tightened into a crushing embrace. ‘Phineas will never harm you again, I promise you that.’
‘And you,’ she said when she could speak. ‘What have you been doing?’
A laugh rumbled in his chest.
‘Riding! I went to London and met up with Armstrong, who had already arranged the whole, so then it was back here to arrest Phineas—praying all the time that he had not hurt you.’
‘He did not,’ she told him as the carriage bounced over the Wheelston drive and came to a halt. ‘Not a mark.’
‘No?’ He jumped down and held out his arms to her. ‘I am going to inspect you, inch by inch, to make sure that is true.’
She shivered deliciously, and with a laugh he stole another kiss before leading her into the house. A shadowy, expectant silence wrapped around Charity as Ross led her up the stairs. He stopped outside the door to the room where he had held her prisoner.
‘I meant it, Charity, when I said I want you to be my wife. I love you, you know.’
She felt the light, breathless flutter of her heart when she heard those words, but anxiety shadowed her happiness. She could not believe he had considered the consequences of marriage to Phineas Weston’s daughter. She reached up to cup his face with her hands, lovingly scanning every detail of his face.
‘I love you, Ross. That is all that matters for now. Let us leave everything else until the morning.’
‘Gladly, but...’ He touched her lips with his own, a soft, gentle caress. ‘I will not presume... That is, if you would rather sleep in here?’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes.’
She slipped her arms about his neck. ‘I never want to sleep alone again.’
With something between a groan and a growl he swept her up and carried her the short distance to his bedroom. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder while the thought of what was to come filled her body with a thrilling anticipation. When he laid her gently on the bed she clung to him, pulling him down to cover his face with hot, fervent kisses, which he returned with a passion.
His hands stroked over her body, but when they became entangled in her heavy cloak she was as eager as he to shed the encumbrance. He bade her lie still while he untied her cloak and then wrestled with the ribbons around the neck of her gown.
‘But this is foolish,’ she told him, her voice trembling between laughter and delight as his fingers danced across her breast. ‘I shall still have to get up to remove my clothes.’
‘Quiet,’ he growled.
She lay very still as he gently peeled away her bodice to reveal the twin mounds of her breasts rising above her corset. Under his hot gaze the nipples seemed to strain against the chemise, and when his fingers pushed aside the thin covering they became achingly hard. She gave a low moan as his mouth closed over one hot tip and her body arched when his tongue circled the nub and drew a response from deep within her body. She was burning with need; the layers of clothing irritated her tingling skin. She tore open Ross’s shirt and slid her hands inside, running them over the solid contours of his chest, exulting when she felt his nipples harden beneath her fingers. She played with them as he had done with her, circling, gently pinching until he broke off from the delicious torment he was inflicting upon her breast.
‘What are you doing to me?’
His groan elicited nothing more than a gurgle of laughter from Charity.
‘Giving you your own medicine,’ she murmured, pushing herself up. ‘Let us get out of these clothes, Ross. I want to hold you properly.’
‘I hope you will hold me most improperly,’ he murmured, sending the heat rushing through her once again, but most especially it pooled between her thighs, reminding her of the sweet, sensual caresses he had bestowed upon her once before.
They slipped off the bed and scrabbled out of their clothes, Charity only pausing when Ross stripped away his breeches and stood before her, lean and muscled, his arousal all too obvious in the pale light of the early dawn. She stepped back and felt the edge of the bed behind her. She slid up onto the covers and began to move back until Ross stopped her, his hands on her ankles. Obedient to the gentle pressure, her legs parted. Ross dropped to his knees and pulled her towards him, settling a knee over each shoulder and leaning forward to kiss the tangle of curls at her groin.
‘Ross! Don’t...’
Her words trailed away as his tongue flickered over her, licking and kissing until she was writhing, wanting him to go farther, deeper. His fingers joined the incessant pleasuring until she could bear it no longer. Waves of pleasure were building inside her, rippling through her until she shuddered, arched and cried out, her arms thrown wide, hands gripping the covers.
Ross eased her onto the bed and stretched out beside her, wrapping her in his arms and holding her until the pulsing, throbbing convulsions had eased.
‘Oh, I did not know,’ she sobbed into his shoulder. ‘I thought the first time was ecstasy, but this—’
‘I am glad,’ he murmured.
When he tried to pull her closer, she resisted.
‘But you, Ross, you haven’t—’
‘Hush.’ His arms tightened around her. ‘There is time yet.’
She gave a shaky little laugh.
‘I don’t think I could...’
‘Patience.’ He silenced her with a kiss and settled her more comfortably in his arms, but one hand was stroking her thigh. It was a slow, gentle movement, but instead of lulling her into sleep she felt her body waking, the need growing in her again. She stirred restlessly and as the slow, sensual stroking continued, her body pressed against Ross. He began to kiss her face, leaving a trail of burning kisses over her cheeks and throat before turning his attention to her ear, where his tongue ran around the shell-like contours, teasing her into full arousal.
Charity wrapped herself around him and he gently rolled her onto her back, kissing her with a slow thoroughness that seemed to draw out the very heart of her. Her body was softening and she opened to him, inviting him in. He eased himself between her thighs and slid into her, moving with long, slow caresses that drew a rippling response she could not control. He took her mouth again, the rasp of his tongue mirroring those other slow, unhurried movements and driving her beyond reason. She was on fire, her body no longer her own as it matched his rhythm. He was thrusting deeper into her, deeper, harder, and she felt as if she was flying, arching and bucking beneath him as her body responded to his urgent demands.
It was too much; she bit her lip to stop herself screaming with the sheer joy of it as Ross gave an exultant shout and with a final, earth-shattering thrust took them over the edge and they clung
together, suspended in time and space until at last the spasm passed and they collapsed together onto the bed, gasping, laughing and crying all at once.
They lay together, side by side, hand in hand.
Charity gave a long sigh.
‘That was...wonderful!’
He chuckled. ‘And it will be better still, with practice.’
‘Will it?’ she asked him, wonder in her voice. ‘Will it really?’
‘Yes, really!’ He laughed and rolled over to pull her into his arms. ‘Oh, my love, there is so much I want to share with you, and not just the delights of the bedroom. I would like to take you to sea with me as my wife, to show you the wonder of a full moon sailing high over the water, to let you hear the wind keening through the rigging, taste the salt spray on your face—but of course if you do not care for the sea then we can make our home here, or anywhere you wish—’
She struggled and immediately he released her and fell back on the covers. She raised herself up on one elbow and stared down at him.
‘You are smiling.’
The curve of his lips stretched into a full-blown grin.
‘I have so much to smile about.’
She bent and kissed him. ‘Being happy suits you,’ she said softly. ‘I like to hear you laugh.’
‘Then you shall hear it a great deal. But not just now.’ He pulled her down beside him and settled her in his arms. ‘Sleep now.’
* * *
Ross woke with the sun streaming through the window, hot on his naked body as he lay sprawled on the covers. He was immediately aware that he was alone and he sat up, stretching. Charity was kneeling on the window seat, wrapped in his banyan. She had her back to him and her thick hair cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall. He wanted to go over to her and let those heavy silk tresses run through his fingers, but something wasn’t right. Something in her stillness, the slight droop of her shoulders, alarmed him. Tentatively he called her name.
At the Highwayman's Pleasure Page 23