Spyfall

by Carter, Elizabeth Ellen

  The music came to an end. Dancers applauded as they left the floor. He spotted Susannah immediately. Her face shone and not just from exertion. There was a brightness to it he’d never seen before. Then that beautiful face broke into a genuine smile as the man she was with said something evidently amusing. She looked up to answer.

  Susannah looked his way. The surprise and added delight on her face as she left her companion to come to him made Nate feel triumphant. That extra smile was for him.

  “You’re back!” she said, touching his arm. Nate doubted Susannah would be aware she had done it. “Clem was certain you’d stay at Newlyn overnight. Nate, this is Adam Hardacre, he’ll be lodging with us for a couple of weeks.”

  Hardacre. The name was familiar.

  The man held out his hand. Nate shook it.

  “Mrs. Linwood, thank you for the dance,” said Hardacre, “but if you’ll both excuse me, I’ll sit the next one out.”

  Nate mentally saluted the man for his impeccable sense of timing. He picked up Susannah’s hand and bowed over it.

  “I was going to stay at Newlyn, but I wanted to be back in time to dance with you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Nate wondered whether the color in Susannah’s cheeks was merely from the recently finished dance or whether he was the cause of it.

  He liked the way her bright blue eyes regarded him around the circle of dancers, as though there was no one else around but him. A landlady did not look like that at a tenant.

  He made sure Susannah was left with no uncertainty about his interest. A lingering touch at her waist, a quick-step turn that forced her up close to him. He found himself growing aroused. He liked it, this slow burning desire – especially when he could see an expression of it mirrored in the eyes of the woman in his arms.

  Susannah agreed to another dance, and then a third before declaring herself well and truly done in.

  She accepted his arm once more and they went in search of Peggy and Clem. The new lodger was nowhere to be seen.

  Hardacre…

  Nate shook his head and forced himself to concentrate on Clem’s humorous tale about almost coming a cropper when fishing off the rocks.

  “A body was soaked right through! I cursed my luck and scrambled my way up to the rock, only to find the fish had stayed put and I’d gone into the sea! ‘Hey ho,’ I said. ‘If you’re up here on land and I’m the one in the sea, then who caught who?’!”

  Here, Nate could watch the light from the lamps fall on Susannah’s face, highlighting high cheek bones. She listened attentively to Clem’s tale and then told one of her own about how she and Peggy found themselves flapping about like birds to get rid of the family of seagulls that had made themselves at home in one of the rooms due to a broken window pane.

  Once during the evening, Nate saw Lillian Doyle moving around and about, dispensing a word to one of the villagers and doling out the occasional coin to a child. How very good of her to condescend to grace St. Sennen with her presence as though she was some sort of Lady-bloody-Bountiful…

  Her charity and piety was only for show, unlike Susannah whose generosity showed itself in many different ways – and Nate was cognizant of the fact that he was one of the recipients of her kindness.

  Here within this inner circle, she was no longer on guard. And he was struck by the sense that he ought to consider himself lucky that Susannah deemed him worthy to be included in her trust.

  Mid-evening was heralded by a shift in the breeze. The smell of brine from the sea also brought with it the sound of waves pounding against the protective embrace of the rocks and cliffs which guarded the estuary.

  Nate, Clem, Susannah, and Peggy made their way unhurriedly back to where Sid peacefully grazed. When the ghost-grey horse saw them, he raised his head and approached. It looked as though he, too, was eager to be home.

  Soon, Hardacre and Clem’s son, Sam, emerged from the thinning crowd.

  “Well, this looks like a full house,” Peggy observed gravely as Nate and Clem harnessed the horse between the shafts of the cart. “We’re not all going to fit on the trap, not with all the timber and canvas from the stall.”

  The new lodger went to move his satchel. “I’m afraid I’m the imposition – I don’t mind trailing along behind. Besides, it will give me a chance to talk to Mr. Payne. I have a feeling w—”

  Peggy was swift to interrupt. “Now, we can’t be having that! You’re a paying guest. Nate, why don’t you escort Mrs. Linwood home? You can meet us there, and we’ll have a nice cup of tea and get Mr. Hardacre settled in.”

  Nate exchanged a look with Susannah. She looked mildly amused. Clem, by contrast, was utterly bewildered.

  No one said a thing for a moment until the silence was broken by Hardacre who shrugged, then vaulted up onto the back of the trap.

  “Well that suits me,” he said. “I’ve been on my feet all day.”

  He was soon joined up there by Sam.

  Clem looked Nate’s way as though he expected an objection either from him or from Susannah.

  “But wh—”

  “Well?” Peggy called down to Clem. “What are you waiting for, Old Boots?”

  “You go on ahead,” Susannah touched Clem’s arm. “It’s a lovely evening for a walk.”

  Peggy flashed them both a triumphant look as Clem clambered aboard. With a smart snap of the reins, Sid began the mile-and-half journey back to The Queen’s Head.

  As blindingly obvious as Peggy had been, Nate wasn’t going to knock back a chance to spend time alone with Susannah. And the fact she hadn’t overruled her friend was all the encouragement he needed.

  Susannah waved them off into the darkness before bringing the shawl more closely over her shoulders. She looked at him almost shyly, not quite reserved, although he knew that part of her waited in the wings.

  “Have you ever been sailing?” Nate asked.

  She shook her head. “I’ve never been on a boat, even though I’ve lived by the sea a lot of my life. Perhaps you’ll take me one day.”

  “How about now?”

  “What? Tonight? In the dark?”

  The surprise on her face was an image he wanted to hold forever.

  “Sure, why not? The Sprite’s here, the tide’s running in, and there’s a breeze we can pick up.”

  Susannah worried her lip. Nate watched hesitation play out over her face. It seemed she warred with herself. Would she retreat back into herself?

  She nodded as though concluding a silent discussion to which only she was privy before looking back at him.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to let a pirate take me sailing.”

  Nate fought the urge to sweep her into his arms at that moment. He was going to do this courtship thing right. Susannah was a lady and ought to be treated like one.

  Instead, he took her hand in his and watched her face carefully as he drew her closer to tuck her arm through his. Did he presume too much? His experience with other women had been much, much different. They wore their desire as plainly as he did and were not shy in expressing what they wanted and how they wanted it.

  Susannah wore a veiled expression as they walked through the moonlit streets with some of the other villagers until they reached the dock.

  Nate boarded the small dinghy first, holding it steady with one hand while offering her the other. She placed her hand in his and squeezed as she stepped into the little boat and allowed him to guide her to sit down on the stern thwart.

  “I should warn you,” she said. “I can’t swim.”

  “With me here, you don’t need to.”

  “I’m safe with you, am I?”

  It was the smallest of teases, a tentative attempt, as though it was something she had never before tried.

  He gave her a smile in return.

  “For the most part,” he said, turning to untie the rope at the mooring. “Let me put it this way, I’ve not lost anyone yet.”

  That elicited a laugh.

  He se
ttled himself a-thwart, then used an oar to push the boat away before settling them both in the oarlocks and beginning to row. It didn’t take too long to reach the Sprite and they didn’t speak during the journey. Between glancing over his shoulder occasionally to check their progress, he looked at her and she at him in enigmatic silence.

  Finally, he helped Susannah aboard the Sprite before pulling the dinghy aboard and lashing it to the deck.

  He started his preparations to set sail while Susannah remained at the railing, her attention fixed across the water on St. Sennen, deep in thought.

  *

  Susannah thought it best to remain where she was, out of the way, while Nate moved around the Sprite with brisk efficiency.

  It was an odd feeling being out here on the water, looking at moonlit landscapes that were familiar, yet different from this perspective as the vessel bobbed gently. It was like seeing the whole world anew.

  After a moment, Susannah felt the boat move decisively; little more than a tug at first. She looked up to see the white sail flap and then fill out. The decking beneath her feet shifted some more. Susannah stepped back to maintain her balance.

  “It might take you a moment or two to get your sea legs,” said Nate, making his way back to the rear of the boat – the stern – that much she did know. “Keep your knees slightly bent and walk smoothly, you’ll soon get the hang of it.”

  After a couple of unsteady steps, she made her way to the wheel where Nate was, positioning herself a few paces behind him against the stern rail. She breathed in. She could smell the salt and that certain indefinable quality distinct to the sea.

  She didn’t want to distract the man at his task, but she did want to stay close enough that if anything did happen…

  She looked at him. Firm legs stood braced apart, accenting a trim waist. Strong arms held the wheel…

  Peggy was right to dub him the pirate – especially now that the long day had covered his face in stubble. The only thing he was missing was a gold earring.

  And a parrot… a big red parrot.

  She giggled at the thought.

  “You’re not laughing at me behind my back are you?” he asked.

  “No!” she lied.

  He shot back a glance and his grin gave her the confidence to speak truthfully.

  “Well, perhaps a little bit,” she said. “If you want the truth, I was thinking of the nickname Peggy gave you. Watching you at the helm, well, it seemed rather apt.”

  “The pirate…”

  “You’re not offended?”

  “I overheard her the day I arrived. I rather like the idea of being a dashing pirate.”

  “Not a villainous pirate?”

  “Nope.”

  “Not a murderous pirate?”

  “God, no – not unless you’re talking about murdering one of those fruitcakes you make.”

  “Then that would make you a ravenous pirate.”

  “Oh, I’m definitely a ravenous pirate.”

  His tone dropped, and his words were laden with meaning. But more shocking was her own reaction. Susannah felt it in her chest, a feeling of tenderness toward the man before her; even desire.

  Nate took another glance ahead and again up at the sails, trimmed just enough to take the breeze.

  “Come and join me.”

  Susannah frowned. Perhaps there was something of the pirate in him after all.

  “No, thank you,” she said. “I’m comfortable where I am.”

  “You may not be shortly. We’ll be crossing the bar between the two tributaries and the ocean. The change in tide will make it rough.”

  And, as though he’d ordained it, Susannah felt the deck beneath her feet and the vessel begin to rock gently from side to side.

  Without looking back, he reached out a hand toward her. “I might be a ravenous pirate, but I don’t bite.”

  She took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the stern rail. She took the four unsteady paces forward.

  The Sprite pitched a moment.

  She clutched his shoulder. He placed a hand on the center of her back and urged her closer to him, closer to the helm.

  “Here, step in, put your hands on the wheel,” he said. “Set your feet apart just a little until you feel well-braced.”

  She followed his instructions and gripped the exposed spindles where he did while he settled himself behind her.

  She felt a shove broadside. The Sprite bucked fore and aft like an untamed horse but, encircled in Nate’s arms, Susannah was steady.

  She was safe with him.

  She closed her eyes at the thought.

  The last time she had felt truly protected was when her father was alive. In the years since his passing, and during her marriage to Jack, she had never felt at ease.

  One error on her part would have Jack scream at her – call her stupid. Worthless. A waste. She became too afraid to do anything for the fear of his raining blows. She swallowed against a lump in her throat, relieved Nate could not see her.

  She felt his warmth at her back. If she stepped back just an inch, she would be against his chest. If his arms closed around hers more fully, she would be in his embrace.

  “Steady yourself,” he said softly in her ear, sending delicious shivers down her arms that had nothing to do with the cold. “It will be rough for a bit until we get further up the mouth of the Pengellan.”

  The Sprite was picked up by a wave rolling through the estuary mouth. Her stomach plummeted at the unexpected motion. She let out a small gasp.

  Nate pulled the wheel down hard to pull the boat back from the crest of the wave. Susannah’s hands gripped tightly, but she had no choice but to follow where he led.

  “Don’t fight her,” he said. “The Sprite knows what she’s doing. Just relax and go with it. Work with her.”

  After a moment concentrating on how the boat reacted to the change of the current and the push of the wind, she started to understand. If she was aware, there were subtle cues that told her what the boat was going to do next and she adjusted her stance in anticipation of it. Her unease became exhilaration as the Sprite and her able captain crossed the bar and headed for the calmer waters of their creek.

  She couldn’t help a grin. Had she ever felt this alive before? Possibly never. She breathed in deep and stood up on her toes, so she could see the rise and fall of the bow.

  The Sprite followed the river course around the protection of Arthyn Hill until, up ahead, she saw the lights in the ground floor windows of The Queen’s Head. In the moonlight ahead was the boatshed.

  Nate let go of the wheel and worked the complicated web of ropes overhead that gave him control of the mainsail.

  “Keep the wheel where she is,” he instructed. “Just line up the bow to the jetty and the Sprite will do the rest.”

  Nate stepped away. Susannah adjusted her grip on the wheel, feeling the true resistance of the water through the wheel for the first time.

  “How do you sail her on your own?” she called back.

  “See the two eyebolts on the deck, either side of where you’re standing?” Nate called. “I lash the wheel.”

  “And you’re always on your own?”

  “No, I used to have two other men sail with me; Clem has joined me from time to time.”

  She was about to ask what happened to them, but thought better of it. He’d never spoken about his imprisonment in France. Moreover, he had asked her nothing about her past. It seemed only right she did not ask him about his.

  They drew near to the jetty, now just a few yards away. Nate released the mainsail which dropped down the mast, allowing them to slow their progress to a drift. He sprinted forward and tossed a rope around one of the uprights and drew the Sprite into dock, then did the same with a second rope toward the stern before dropping the anchor from the bow of the boat and making his way back to her.

  She felt the weight of his hands on her shoulders where he gave them a squeeze. “You make a fine first mate!”


  She hoped the moonlight hid the heat rising in her cheeks.

  “You make a very fine teacher,” she replied.

  His right hand left her shoulder and touched her cheek gently. The breath she took was unsteady. He wanted to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes. But she was confident he would not; not until he was certain of her.

  Jack was the last man to touch her, and she had vowed to never let another. A foolish promise. Especially when all she wanted now was to step forward into Nate’s arms and have him hold her with all the tenderness she saw in his face.

  And what harm would a kiss do? She was no man’s wife. She could kiss anyone of her choosing or no one.

  Would she dare?

  She ignored her whispers of doubt and took half a step forward. He met her the rest of the way, taking her into his embrace.

  She breathed in deep. The smell of him was unique. He smelled of the sea, of cedar and lemon – like no one else.

  “Will you let me kiss you, Susannah?” he whispered against her ear.

  She raised her face to his, closing her eyes as his lips descended. The kiss was warm, soft, and all-too-brief.

  She opened her eyes. She wanted another, but the words wouldn’t come out. His embrace firmed a moment then their lips met again in a slow exploration that lit a spark of long-dormant desire which turned into a slow burning heat.

  In the end, it was he who broke off the kiss.

  “Oh God, Susannah…” He breathed in deeply and touched her cheek once again. “You know nothing of me, and I’m afraid that if you did, you’d run a mile.”

  She reached up and stroked his hair.

  “And you know nothing of me, but I’ve had enough of running away. I’ve done it for far too long,” she said, looking at him directly in the eyes. “I’m willing to take a chance on a pirate, if he’s willing to take a chance on me.”

  This time, the kiss was a chaste one to her cheek.

  “Then let’s not run. Let us walk together, slowly, and see where this path leads. Agreed?”

  Chapter Nine

  Nate awoke from a light doze.