Spyfall

by Carter, Elizabeth Ellen

  “Not in the least. When do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m waiting on a messenger from Truro. But when the call comes, we’ll go on the next available tide.”

  *

  Susannah had only half a mind on her work. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Nate and Adam Hardacre at a table in the far corner of the dining table. They’d been in earnest conversation for more than an hour.

  “It all looks rather serious over there,” whispered Peggy in passing on her way through to the kitchen. “What do you think Hardacre and the pirate are talking about?”

  She had no answer for that. Whatever business brought Hardacre back to St. Sennen, she hoped it would be concluded soon. As much as she liked the man personally, he brought with him the unpleasant reminder that England was at war.

  And soon, Nate might be caught up in it.

  For so many years, she had kept her thoughts and feelings to herself. She’d become quite practiced in life behind a façade of serenity, of doing and saying the expected things regardless of how she truly felt.

  She recalled the conversation with Peggy this afternoon. She wanted it to be different with Nate and she couldn’t deny the way he made her feel, a visceral desire she never thought she possessed. But it was more than that, Nate Payne was the first man who saw her as she really was.

  Several times during the day he would catch her eye and her body would heat under his gaze. What would it be like to give herself completely to this man? Would he hold her heart with as much care and tenderness as he’d done when he held her at the beach?

  Peggy tapped her on the shoulder and glanced at Nate meaningfully.

  “It’s still light out, why don’t you step outside and get some fresh air,” she said. “I can take over at the bar.”

  “Are you sure? What about the kitchen?”

  “Tressa’s doing a good job. I thought I’d give her a bit more responsibility,” said Peggy.

  Peggy, too, was beginning to change and adapt. Initially, she had been resentful of the idea of someone else in her kitchen, but the truth of the matter was she needed assistance; she couldn’t act as cook and maid-of-all-work forever. Susannah knew she’d made a good choice in Tressa, a local girl recommended by Clem. The girl had proven herself smart and willing to learn.

  Susannah cast her eyes across the bar and dining room. In summer, the customers came later in the evening. She took off her apron and laid it on the bar just as Nate looked up.

  He gave her that look again. And there must have been something in her own expression because he left his place at the table and approached.

  “I’ll be back in time for the last rush at the bar,” Susannah told Peggy.

  “Go on, enjoy yourself,” Peggy urged with a wink.

  Nate met her at the door.

  “A fine evening for a walk. May I accompany you?” he inquired.

  “I was hoping you would.”

  Those few simple words brought a smile to his face and Susannah was glad to put it there. They stepped outside. He offered his arm and she accepted it.

  Outside, the world was touched in pink by the setting sun and seemed so much hotter for it, like the glow of a furnace. Above her, the sky was filled with thin high clouds like small waves on the ocean, except these were the most fantastic colors – purple, vermillion and a marigold shade so vivid it hurt to look at it.

  They continued hand-in-hand in silence along the path that led them down to the water’s edge where the creek met the estuary. Overhead, seagulls took advantage of the twilight, calling out to one another before they settled for the night.

  They reached the end of the path which mated with the old stone seawall that protected the land from the powerful push and pull of the sea.

  The breeze that came up from the estuary cooled her heated cheeks. She sat on the wall and removed her shoes and stockings, raising her skirts to lower her legs into the ankle-deep water. She wiggled her toes into the sand and sighed.

  Nate made a throaty chuckle and Susannah couldn’t help but grin in return. He, too, sat down and removed his shoes and let out a welcome groan as his feet joined hers in the water. Susannah’s grin became a giggle. She took in a deep breath of sea air as Nate placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her to his side.

  The stroke of his hand along her arm below the short sleeve of her dress was achingly sweet. Susannah leaned into him and closed her eyes, allowing his hands to wander. Her arm was left in gooseflesh, surely only a result of the zephyr as his fingers grazed the length of her waist and, if she was not mistaken, he had touched her ear with his lips.

  Susannah hadn’t even been aware that her right hand had been rubbing the top of Nate’s thigh until he stilled her restive hand with his own.

  “I have to go away,” he said.

  Susannah opened her eyes and fixed her attention on the view ahead, the sun catching the creek and turning it bronze in hue.

  “With Adam Hardacre?”

  She felt Nate nod his answer as his fingers started stroking her hair. She thought she ought to ask more questions – Where are you going? Why? How long will you be away? Are you sworn to secrecy?

  Out of habit, she asked none of those things. Jack would either lie to her, tell her to not worry her pretty little head, or, if he was in a foul mood, would shout at her for prying. He told her only what he wanted her to know and nothing more.

  She turned herself around, dried her feet and slipped her stockings and shoes back on.

  Nate stood before her.

  “Susannah?”

  She looked up at him and found his expression confused. Had he expected her to say something? To ask those questions? She didn’t have the right. He was as free as the birds wheeling in the deepening sky overhead.

  “How soon?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered. “In a couple of days maybe.”

  She allowed him to take her into his arms and kiss her slowly on the earlobe. The sensation shot like a lightning bolt straight down to her feet. Her sigh was instinctive, as was the need to put her arms around him in return.

  “I want you to come home to,” he said in her ear.

  She pressed herself to him more fully to stop him from seeing the pinprick of tears in her eyes.

  “I want that, too,” she whispered.

  He held back no longer. His lips claimed hers swiftly, his tongue teased her until hers responded in kind. She gave herself to the sensation of it, noting how her body reacted to his touch and how he made her skin come alive, making her come alive. The more he touched her, the more she wanted of him. All of him.

  She allowed her imagination to take flight. Nate’s bare body against hers, flesh to flesh, making love to her with the same confident passion he showed now. As though he could read her thoughts, he brushed his fingertips down her throat and lower, to the top of her breasts, then pulled her firmly to him. She felt his own desire press against her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  August 1805

  Nate ran the wide blade along the line of the hull. Barnacles and green algae slid off the scraper’s keen edge, exposing the dark blue paint beneath. The Sprite lay careened on the low-tide sand in the Pengellan estuary.

  Adam Hardacre had departed for Truro two days ago after his messenger arrived and, during that time, Nate had made up his mind. He had already committed to Ireland. Now, despite his deep misgivings about ever setting foot on French soil again, he had to go there, too.

  Not because he had any special love of King and Country – no more than any sensible man at any rate – but there was no denying that two others, possibly more, had risked their lives to save him, a stranger.

  Sure, they’d also wanted to learn what he knew about Felix, but he was deeply grateful that they had saved his skin. And there were new stakes revealed by Hardacre’s messenger. Now those very men were missing.

  He knew what the consequences were for them. Nate had seen for himself how pris
oners of war were dealt with, and traitors fared so much worse. He squeezed the handle of his scraper and worked with renewed vigor.

  Last night, he had told Susannah of his decision to throw in his lot with Hardacre. It meant having the Sprite ready in seven days’ time to sail around to Truro. He could be gone for months.

  Unspoken between them was the fact that should things go wrong, he could be gone for good.

  In his experience, women reacted in one of two ways to such news. An insouciant woman like Yvette would simply shrug her shoulders; c’est la vie – easy come, easy go. Lillian would be less sanguine; she would sulk and pout in an attempt to get him to change his mind. And when he refused, he would see the savage demon anger that lurked beneath the practiced manners and fine clothing.

  Susannah was different. She did not dissuade him from leaving yet he was sure indifference was not the cause. She spoke with her eyes instead of her tongue, and Nate was both humbled and concerned by it. She had feelings for him, he knew that. Perhaps she was already in love with him, but couldn’t allow herself to break out of the prison her brute of a dead husband had put her in.

  If the man still lived, Nate would have killed him and happily worn the consequences.

  “Hey ho!”

  He looked up at Clem’s cheery greeting. With him was young Sam and both were dressed down to their shirtsleeves.

  “Nice day for it,” Clem said as they got nearer.

  “Nice day for a hell of a lot of work,” Nate responded. “You wouldn’t care to give me a hand, would you?”

  He hadn’t expected his friend’s answer. Clem picked up two more scrapers from among the tools and tossed one over to his son. Nate gave a grateful nod. The young man responded with a cheery wave and got to work at the bow of the boat.

  Clem started work near the keel, not far from Nate.

  “Since we’re here, I’ve got somethin’ to get your thoughts on.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to make a jest but he glanced over at Clem to find him diligently working away.

  “I’m thinkin’ of askin’ Peggy to marry me.”

  Nate ran a hand over the freshly exposed paint, pleased to see it had held up well. A repaint would have delayed him nearly a month.

  He nodded over at Sam. He had his father’s easy-going temperament, but in looks and height he took after his mother. In fact, Sam was at least three inches taller than his father already. A true blessing to be sure, Clem had said on more than one occasion over the years.

  “How does Sam feel?”

  “He likes Peggy, so good-o there. And there’s somethin’ else which may have swayed him, too, and that’s Tressa. You know? The new maid at The Queen’s Head? Sam’s rather sweet on her. I suppose he’s now of an age where he appreciates the merits of courtin’, if you know what I mean.”

  This time, Nate did laugh.

  “I can’t think of any two people better suited to being shackled than you and Peggy.”

  Clem’s sigh of relief was audible.

  “You’re not just sayin’ that, are you? I’ve thought about it a lot, you know. I loved Sam’s mother for the longest time and still do in a way. But she’s long gone, and there’s just somethin’ about my old Peggy that makes a man feel alive again.”

  Nate didn’t hide the delight on his face. “I mean it, Clem, I like Peggy a lot. She’s a good woman and she deserves a good man like you. When are you going to ask her?”

  “In the next few weeks; maybe an October weddin’ if she’ll have me.”

  “Well, you have my congratulations. Now all you need is for your intended to say yes.”

  Clem chuckled. “No fear of that, old man. Then all we need to do is for you to wake up to yourself and ask Susannah to be your bride, and we’ll have a double weddin’.”

  “Ah, you cheap bastard, you’re only saying that in the hope of paying half of the wedding feast!”

  Nate was rather pleased that the words slipped effortlessly from his mouth and, better still, Clem’s reaction – a mock annoyance at his perceived parsimoniousness – meant that he wasn’t expecting him to give a serious answer.

  Marry Susannah…

  The idea had occurred to him in the abstract. Whenever he held her in his arms, he thought how nice it would be to wake up every morning with her in bed beside him. But that was as far as his thinking went. Besides, everything he had learned of her disastrous first marriage gave him the distinct impression she would not want to be so bound again.

  Right now, their arrangement was fine just the way it was. And, if he didn’t think too hard, he could just about convince himself he wasn’t falling in love with her.

  No. Better he remain here, in the moment, with the wind and the sun in his face, the feel of mastery whenever he was at the helm of his boat. This he loved, all of this within his control. Over everything else, he had none.

  Thanks to the additional pairs of hands, the antifouling work on the Sprite had been completed early.

  Nate had refloated her on the incoming tide and secured her at anchor. Now with the dinghy half-full, he was readying a return journey to his boat with equipment he would need if he and Adam planned to spend more than one night aboard.

  Across the street, he spotted a group of women leaving the rectory at St. Catherine’s. His eyes slid away from Lillian Doyle to Susannah who was among them, wafting the painted fan he had given her as a gift. She was in animated conversation with a couple of members of the village committee, planning good works of one sort or another.

  A wave of tenderness came over him. He loved watching her when she was not aware of being observed, like the first time he watched her in the field when he was building the chicken coop.

  Carefree and unreserved – the true self she kept hidden. He found himself once more imagining making love to her, savoring those uninhibited moments that would be for him alone.

  He had no doubt Susannah was a passionate woman, but she fought it, hiding it from herself.

  Would it be wrong to seduce her before he left?

  His body responded enthusiastically to the idea, but his rational mind forced the urge down. He had made a promise to be patient and allow her to set the pace for their relationship.

  Would marriage be so bad? Would Susannah even agree?

  He came to a decision. He would broach the notion of marriage when he returned from his excursion with Adam Hardacre. Hopefully, the old saying of absence making the heart grow fonder was true.

  Nate shook his head and turned his attention back to his task. He was letting Clem’s sentimentality get the better of him.

  “You ought to be kinder to me.”

  He hadn’t even seen Lillian Doyle approach.

  “Is there a reason why I should?” he asked, deliberately turning his back to her and loading another crate into the dinghy.

  “I can think of many reasons, my pet. For instance, your Mrs. Linwood relies on her good reputation, but whispers that her services include more than a bed and board could see her license revoked.”

  He looked at her for the first time since she had approached, not hiding his expression of contempt.

  “You’re resorting to blackmail? Is that how low you’ve sunk, Lillian?”

  She gave a delicate shrug and traced a finger down his arm.

  “Consider it a measure of how much I’ve missed you.”

  “That you would do anything to have me back?”

  “I fail to see why things can’t go on as they were. I never complained about Yvette; why should Mrs. Linwood complain about me?”

  “Because I don’t want you.”

  “But you do want her.”

  Over Lillian’s shoulder, he saw Susannah approach. He shook off Lillian’s arm and returned to loading the dinghy.

  “I already said I won’t discuss her with you.”

  “Fair enough, my pet. Let me do you and Mrs. Linwood a good turn. One night with you and my solemn vow to never cause trouble for you and the innkee
per again.” She leaned forward to effect a stage whisper. “I’ll make you a present of her.”

  Nate let out a humorless laugh and walked away, shaking his head. He untied the dinghy and used the oar to shove away from the dock. He locked the oar in place, picked up its mate, and rowed.

  Two women stood on the dock watching him leave, but he only had eyes for one of them. Elegant Lillian, with her striking black hair and expensive gown, barely registered. It was only Susannah he saw – the way strands of her brown hair escaped their confines and the hem of her faded pink day dress rippled and danced with the breeze.

  Lillian turned and said something to Susannah before walking away. He watched for Susannah’s reaction. There was none. Should he go back?

  He was moving away. Every necessary stroke of the oar was taking him away from her.

  If she raised her hand to beckon, he would return. But she did not. He glanced behind him to see how close he was to the Sprite. He corrected course just as a cloud crossed the sun, throwing the estuary into shade, sharpening the chill of the breeze. He shivered.

  Then he looked back to the shore.

  Susannah was gone.

  He cursed a superstitious dread all the way back to The Queen’s Head. Nate dropped anchor just as the last of the daylight faded. The lights on the ground floor of the inn were a beacon that drew him in.

  He entered by the kitchen. Susannah was there alone, kneading out dough, looking deep in thought.

  He drew close enough to touch her and he did, to briefly touch her neck with his lips. Her sigh was arousing and he continued with kisses down her neck and across her shoulders.

  “Please… we can’t,” she whispered. “Not here.”

  He breathed out a frustrated sigh and took a step back.

  Yes, her reputation and that of The Queen’s Head… God, he hated that the smug voice in his head sounded so much like Lillian Doyle.

  And, without knowing why he did so, he stepped back and dropped to one knee.

  “Susannah, will you marry me?”

  The words were out of his mouth before he fully considered the import of them and his prior intent to leave a proposal until he returned.