by Anne Herries
‘That may be his name now,’ Drew said. ‘It was Lieutenant Joe Humble then—and he was dismissed from the service because he was caught cheating at cards. There may have been other things—misappropriation of army property—but I cannot be certain. The affair was brushed under the carpet for some reason.’
‘Oh…’ Marianne pursued her lips. ‘Then it might not be the person I am thinking of. Mr Hambleton is Lady Edgeworthy’s cousin by marriage.’ She hesitated, wondering if she should tell him about the incident, when she had thought there might be an intruder in the house and discovered Mr Hambleton coming from the kitchen wing.
‘Yes, I believe I have heard as much…’ He shook his head. ‘As in the case of the eagle, I may be mistaken. But you asked if you might trust me, Miss Horne. I shall now swear to you that I shall never do anything that would harm you or your family. Will you accept my word?’
Why should she accept his word? She hardly knew him, and yet something inside her was drawing her to him, telling her that he would never harm her, that she could tell him her thoughts…at least some of her thoughts!
His eyes were so blue, the colour of bluebells, and she felt herself drowning in their depths, forgetting what she had meant to say. For a moment she could not withdraw her gaze, and he seemed in like case for he made an odd sound and reached for her, drawing her close. At first his kiss was gentle and sweet, seeming to wrench her heart from her breast as her lips parted beneath his and she melted into him, the world fading as she gave herself up to the pleasure he evoked. In response to her surrender, Drew’s kiss deepened, becoming fiercer, his desire leaping through his aroused body as he moulded her to him. His hands moved down her back, clasping her firm buttocks, pressing her against him as the hot desire raged inside him.
Marianne’s body responded instinctively. For the moment she was not thinking, only feeling, reacting to his kiss with all the untapped passion that was in her. Passion she had not known existed until this moment, for he had awakened her dreaming spirit, forcing her to take the step between innocence and knowledge—the age-old knowledge that comes to a woman in love.
Marianne looked up at him in wonder, because she did not know what to expect from him now. She surprised an odd, slightly wistful expression in his eyes, and suddenly something clicked into place in her mind. She had been ten years old and picking blackberries and she had met a boy in the woods. He had reached up to pick those she could not reach and teased her…The memory was hazy, for she did not recall exactly what had happened, nor even what he had said to her, though she knew they had talked for a while.
‘Did we meet in Marlbeck Woods years ago?’
‘Yes…’ Drew looked at her warily. ‘You were picking blackberries. I thought it might have been you when you told me your name—you were the parson’s daughter.’
‘Yes…’ Marianne wrinkled her brow. ‘I can’t recall anything, except that you picked blackberries for me, but I did remember your eyes because they were so blue.’
‘We were children then. Why should you remember?’
‘I don’t know…’ She shook her head. ‘The memory is vague. I do not know why I remembered it just now.’
‘Because I kissed you then and you laughed.’
‘I dare say I did,’ she said, her cheeks a little pink. ‘It was a harmless incident, but…’
‘I was a boy then,’ Drew said. ‘Impulsive and still naïve. I have no such excuse today. I kissed you because I find you irresistible, but I am sorry if I have offended you, Miss Horne. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you.’
Her eyes widened, their colour the hue of a mountain pool, clear and green, touched by sunshine. And then she smiled. ‘You have robbed your action of any offence, sir. Nor can I pretend that I found it distasteful, for I did not—though I beg that you will not do it again without my permission.’
Drew laughed, for she was a breath of fresh air. It was her frankness, her open manner that fascinated him as much as her beauty. He had met women in society who might perhaps come near to her in looks, but none had made this direct appeal to his senses. At that moment he would have liked to take her down to the soft earth and lose himself in the sweetness of her flesh. Yet if he did that, she would hate him and he would be beyond redemption.
‘I cannot promise that I shall wait for your answer,’ he said, his eyes gleaming with laughter. ‘But I shall ask if I feel the need to kiss you again, Miss Horne. Still, I asked you a question. Do you feel that you can trust me?’
‘I am still not sure that I should,’ Marianne said honestly. ‘But I think that I shall. You see, I am afraid that someone may be attempting to murder Lady Edgeworthy.’
Drew’s mind cleared instantly, all thought of seduction fled. ‘Good grief! I sensed something was bothering you, but I did not realise it was so serious. What makes you think it?’
Marianne explained about the laudanum, and the medicine that had made her great-aunt feel worse instead of better.
‘I know it isn’t very much to go on,’ she said. ‘But someone tried to break into the house one night before I came. A maid had the toothache and came down to make herself a hot drink. She heard something and screamed, and then saw someone running away from the house. Aunt Bertha is being very brave and trying to convince herself that it was all a mistake, but underneath she is upset.’
‘I should imagine she might be,’ Drew said and frowned. ‘I wonder…’
‘Whether it might have something to do with what is going on here?’ Marianne asked and saw his eyes narrow as he looked at her. ‘You are not here to convalesce, Mr Beck—if that is your name. I think you are here to discover what the smugglers are up to, and the story of your ill health is merely to hide your real reasons for taking the house on the cliffs.’
‘Not a particularly good cover if you have seen through it, Miss Horne,’ Drew said and frowned. She had not yet recalled that his uncle had been the Marquis of Marlbeck, but she was an intelligent girl and it might only be a matter of time before she worked it out. He decided to trust her with at least a part of the truth. ‘You are perfectly right, of course. I am here for reasons other than my health—and I believe that contraband is being stored on your great-aunt’s land somewhere.’
‘Yes, the thought had occurred to me,’ Marianne agreed. ‘I saw someone being rowed out to that ship in the bay. He appeared to be French, as did the ship, though I could be completely wrong.’
‘You were not wrong,’ Drew said, giving her a look of approval. ‘Both the seaman and the ship were French, and it was dangerous for them to come in so close at that hour of the morning. I believe it was something to do with the tides—and of course they must have had good reason. I thought the man on the beach might be important, but now I am wondering if he was merely the go-between.’
‘Because of the man you saw on the beach this morning?’
Drew inclined his head. ‘You must forgive me if I do not tell you the whole story, Miss Horne—but it might be dangerous for both of us if you should let something slip. Indeed, I must advise you not to speak of the smugglers at all. If you were heard to voice your suspicions, it could put your life in jeopardy. Despite the myths that abound and the fact that they are called gentlemen, the smugglers are ruthless rogues.’
‘I am sure you are right. If the attempts on my great-aunt’s life were connected with this affair, I would imagine that mine might also be at risk. Someone must want to make sure that their activities carry on undetected—and for that reason they are prepared to do whatever is necessary.’
‘Yes, that is a possibility,’ Drew concurred. ‘But we do not know if this is the case. Smuggling goes on in many parts of the Cornish coast, wherever there are accessible beaches and caves, though some of the northern cliffs are too dangerous for ships to approach. Many landowners turn a blind eye and are left gifts of brandy. You have not heard of anything like that happening?’
‘No, for I mentioned the possibility of smuggling to my aunt and
she did not think it could be so. Indeed, she was shocked at the idea.’ Marianne frowned. ‘It may be that the smugglers have nothing to do with this and that someone else wishes her dead.’
‘Then you must ask who benefits from her will, I suppose.’
‘My mama, who has not been here more than once in her life, my sisters and I may have something, also Jane and Dr Thompson—but I believe the main heir is Mr Hambleton.’
‘Our friend, Hambleton again,’ Drew said. ‘I should be very careful of that gentleman, Miss Horne. If he turns out to be the man I think him, he may indeed be dangerous—and I do not think he would hesitate to kill anyone who stood in his way.’
‘Yes, I think it may be him, though he claims he was not here when Aunt Bertha’s medicine was tampered with the first time.’
‘Officially, perhaps,’ Drew said. ‘But do not forget the attempt to break into the house.’
‘You think that he might have returned to finish his work?’ Marianne felt sickened. ‘Oh, how wicked! How could he?’
‘If he and Lieutenant Humble are the same man, he could do it very easily, Miss Horne.’
‘I see,’ she said and nodded, her expression serious. ‘In that case I must be especially watchful whilst he is in the house. I heard something the other night, something odd, but when I went downstairs I met Mr Hambleton coming from the servants’ wing. He told me that he had also heard a noise and had checked the house for signs of an intruder.’
‘But you do not believe him?’
‘No. I think he was doing something that he did not wish me to know about. I should like to know exactly what it was.’
‘Yes, it would be interesting to know—but be careful he does not realise that you are watching him. If he suspected that you knew what he was about…’
‘I might end up falling to my death from the top of the cliffs,’ Marianne said. ‘Lady Edgeworthy told me that she had left much of her fortune to her cousin Cedric—but when he died she made a new will in Joshua’s favour…’
‘And where was Mr Hambleton at that time?’
‘In Spain, he claims.’ She grimaced. ‘I do not like him and I am not sure that I would believe anything he told me. He may well have tampered with my aunt’s medicine.’
‘This is all speculation,’ Drew said. ‘We may have misjudged him—but please be careful, Miss Horne.’
‘Perhaps you should call me Marianne. I think we have stepped over the bounds of formality this morning, sir.’
‘Thank you, Miss Marianne,’ Drew said and smiled at her. ‘May I kiss you again?’
‘No, Mr Beck, you may not,’ Marianne said, but her eyes were bright with mischief. She had permitted the use of her name, but she was not yet ready to use his first name, for that was a different thing and would presume a friendship between them. It was of course perfectly acceptable for him to call her Miss Marianne, as this was often the case between acquaintances. ‘We hardly know one another and I would not have you think that I am a woman of light morals. Perhaps one day…’ Her cheeks grew warm. ‘If we come to like each other…’
‘Oh, I like you,’ Drew said. ‘But you are perfectly correct, Miss Marianne. I am engaged in a dangerous business, and so perchance are you. We need our wits about us and this is not the moment to indulge ourselves with a flirtation.’
Marianne was half-sorry that he had taken her refusal to be kissed so easily, for in truth she had been tempted to agree. ‘I must go or I shall be late for nuncheon,’ she said. ‘I shall be busy for a few days, but perhaps…’
‘We shall meet,’ Drew said, an unholy light in his eyes. ‘Be assured, Miss Marianne, we are destined to meet again soon…if only at your aunt’s dinner.’
It had rained hard for three days. Marianne stood at the parlour window and looked out at the dripping trees. She would have braved a shower in the hope of meeting Mr Beck again, but it was pouring down and she could not go looking for him in such weather. He would probably be in his house waiting for the rain to stop, just as she was now.
‘Miss Horne…’ Marianne turned at the sound of Mr Hambleton’s voice. ‘I dare say you are feeling frustrated by the weather. I went out early this morning, but I fear I took a soaking, and I may suffer with my chest from it.’ He coughed behind his hand. ‘I really should not have gone, but I had to meet someone.’
‘Was your business so important that it could not wait?’
‘Yes, for it was to arrange a repair to my carriage wheel. I fear I must leave you tomorrow.’
‘But you will miss Lady Edgeworthy’s dinner party,’ Marianne cried, for she was surprised at his leaving so soon. ‘I think she will be disappointed, sir. Could you not arrange to stay another day?’
‘It does you credit to think of her disappointment,’ he replied and gave her what she could only think of as a simpering smile. ‘Indeed, I have observed your manner towards her and I can only approve. You behave just as you ought, Miss Marianne—and I have formed a high opinion of you.’ The look he gave her seemed to be indicating more than he was saying, but she pretended not to understand for she did not wish to know his feelings. Any attempt at flirtation or—heaven forbid!—courtship would be unwelcome to her. She hoped that she had read too much into his words, for it could only end in embarrassment.
‘You are most kind, sir,’ Marianne said, hiding her irritation as best she could. ‘But my thought for my great-aunt is natural and born of affection. However, you have not answered my question.’
‘I have business in town,’ he replied apologetically. ‘If I could defer it, I would, but I have no choice but to return. My visits are usually of a longer duration, and you may be sure that I shall return here again as soon as I am able.’
Marianne was silent. She did not know why she felt this prickling at the nape of the neck when they were alone, but she could not like him. She thought him false and sly, despite his attempts to charm her. Indeed, she had developed a dislike of him.
‘You do not speak,’ he said. ‘I am encouraged to think that you are upset by my leaving so soon…and I may venture to say that I shall look forward to meeting you again.’
There was something in his look that made her want to recoil. If he imagined he was ingratiating himself with her, he was sadly mistaken. His false smiles only made her distrust him more, and she hoped that he would not press his friendship on her.
‘You mistake my silence, sir,’ she said. ‘My disappointment is for my aunt’s sake, not my own. Excuse me, I must fetch something from my room.’
Marianne walked past him and continued up the stairs. She did not glance back, but she was conscious that he was staring after her, and that she might have made him angry. He had no right to make up to her! She had done nothing to encourage him.
Marianne entered her great-aunt’s bedroom. The medicine cupboard was locked, and it did not look as if anything had been disturbed. She was thoughtful as she walked along the hall to her own room. She had been watchful these last few days, checking on Jane as well as Mr Hambleton. So far she had seen no sign of interference of any kind with her great-aunt’s medicines. Perhaps there was nothing to see. It might all have been in Lady Edgeworthy’s mind—and yet the feeling that Mr Hambleton had something to hide had been growing steadily these past days.
She would feel safer once he had returned to London, though that still left Jane and the doctor—but she had always placed them low on her list of suspects. It was true that they had something to gain, but she could not believe that either of them would murder for money.
That left her with one real suspect. She would make sure that her great-aunt locked her door that night, and she would personally see that the medicine cupboard was locked when she said goodnight to Lady Edgeworthy.
It was odd that Mr Hambleton had decided to leave so soon. He must have known of his business in town before this visit, for Marianne had seen all the letters that were collected from the receiving office in the village. Mr Hambleton had not been sent an urge
nt message from town since he came down to Cornwall—so why had he decided to leave suddenly?
It did not matter, she decided. He would be far enough away to be sure that he could not harm Lady Edgeworthy. Her great-aunt had not reported any further meddling with her medicine these past few days, which might be because she had taken great care to see that nothing was left out at night, and the key was kept well hidden.
With Mr Hambleton gone, that would leave only Jane to watch, and Marianne had almost concluded that the companion was blameless. She was fairly certain that Jane was in love with Dr Thompson, but that in itself was no sin. Her mind settled on that point, she was free to follow her own thoughts, and they turned towards Mr Beck and that kiss.
Marianne knew that she had behaved shockingly, for she had melted into his arms, offering no resistance, and he would be within his rights to believe himself encouraged. She would not be the first young woman to be seduced by a man’s kisses, and she knew that something had responded deep inside her. There was a part of her that had wanted the kiss to go on and on for ever.
She would be foolish to so far forget herself that she allowed him such liberties in the future. He was handsome, bold and intriguing, and she had to acknowledge that she liked him—but she was still not sure that she could trust him. She held him blameless in the affair concerning her aunt, but she sensed that he was still hiding something from her.
He could not be so very wicked or her heart would not have responded to his kiss so willingly. No, she would not think ill of him, even though he was undoubtedly holding something back from her. Perhaps for her own safety? Yes, it could quite easily be that, she decided.
She was feeling very much better about things as she went down to the small parlour to join the others.
Chapter Five
After the heavy rain of the past few days the ground was soft underfoot as Marianne went for her walk the next morning. She knew that Joshua Hambleton had left soon after it was light, and could not help feeling pleased that he had gone, despite her great-aunt’s disappointment that he would not be there for her dinner party.