Then it struck him clearly a few weeks ago when he awoke in Susannah’s bed with her beside him while he was recovering from his latest injuries. There was something about being able to simply hold her that warmed from within.
He had never experienced anything like it before, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He’d experienced overwhelming desire for a woman before and, indeed, considered himself in love once or twice in his youth, only to later learn the rush of blood went not to the head, but to another part of his anatomy.
And yet, in the early hours of that morning, he found himself profoundly grateful for the chance to just hold Susannah and watch her sleep. She had slept in her shift that night, hardly at all undressed. And while the thought of making love to her stirred his body, he knew he wanted something more from her than a bedmate.
He wanted to cherish her. He wanted to be the one who made her feel safe, and was fulfilled in the knowledge that she did with him. But more – he wanted to be the one she could turn to share her innermost dreams, desires, and fears.
He loved her.
And it was not just a feeling, a whim of his emotions. It seemed to him that it just was – a state of being like being awake or being asleep. It had no beginning and no end.
He simply loved her.
Their hands touched as he passed the pen to Susannah to sign the register. The awareness that flowed between them was palpable.
He couldn’t wait to get Susannah alone. He needed to talk to her.
*
The wedding breakfast was under a marquee on the headland. It was an informal affair, even though it seemed all of St. Sennen was there. Tables groaned with dishes brought by everyone who attended.
A couple of villagers had brought fiddles and tin whistles, and they started a lively tune that immediately brought dancers to the fore.
Susannah surveyed the scene, feeling quite relaxed. She did not have to play hostess today. Their friends entertained themselves. She remained quite content watching Peggy and Clem be the center of attention.
Nate caught her eyes as he made his way toward her.
With just a look, he could make her blush and think of nothing but being in his arms.
When he reached her, he took her hand but, instead of bowing over it, he wound his fingers through hers and drew her close.
“You and I are going for a walk,” he said.
“Are we now?” she replied, allowing a little tease to color the question.
Although they were a good decade or more younger than Clem and Peggy, neither were they inexperienced youths. He wanted her and she wanted him in equal measure.
That they had already established. Did they need more?
She allowed him to lead her away from the crowd and down toward one of the grassy hollows where eons of water had eroded away part of the rock on which they stood. Over time, earth and grass had reclaimed it. The sound of the revelers was muted here as was the sound of the ocean not so far away. At this point, the hill descended down into St. Sennen. The Pengellan River glittered like a cloth of gold between where they were and Trethowan.
Nate spread out his coat and encouraged her to sit.
“It’s been just over a year since Peggy and I moved to St. Sennen,” she said. “When we arrived, I thought it looked like a piece of Eden. I thought I could start over again without being judged for who my husband was. I could be part of a community and build my own reputation. I wanted nothing more. In fact, I dared not hope for more. On that alone, I could have been content for the rest of my days, until you came and turned my world upside down.”
She reached out and touched Nate’s arm. He seemed to realize she needed to talk so he simply kissed her hand and listened.
“I hadn’t appreciated how much of myself was trapped in my past, separate from the side I showed the world. After you left, I knew I was a thief, little better than Jack was.
“I stole from you time you might have spent rebuilding a life here in St. Sennen after your ordeal in France. I drank in your attention like a plant starved of water but offered you precious little in return. And when you did me the honor of offering marriage, I stole from you the joy that should have been my truthful answer if I had not still been afraid.”
She seemed to run out of breath. She breathed in and glanced Nate’s way. His attention was fixed on the view ahead. The breeze ruffled his dark hair but otherwise he sat as still and motionless as the boulders strewn about these parts.
“If you had the chance to change your answer, would you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He faced her slowly. The expression on his face was difficult to read. Closed off.
Was she too late?
He nodded his understanding and slowly lowered his eyes before raising them to hers again. Susannah found her heart tripling in its beat, her breathlessness increased.
“Last time, you gave me plenty of reasons why you would not marry me,” he said. “This time, let me give you plenty of reasons why you shouldn’t marry me.”
He looked back over the landscape before them but seemed to be looking within himself as he spoke. “There are things I’ve done that have not exactly covered me with glory. I’ve been unfaithful to all the women I’ve been with in the past. I’ve lied and cheated my way into trouble and had to lie and cheat to get myself out of it again.
“Yes, I am that unrepentant smuggler you showed such contempt for at our first meeting. Does it make a difference to your answer?”
She shook her head. “No, it does not. I see another side of you – a man who is generous, kind, brave, and loyal. You are a good man, Nathaniel. You regret your sins. You don’t revel in them as my late husband did.”
Nate covered her hand in both of his, brought it to his lips and held it there. His brow furrowed and head bent deep in thought.
“Then let’s consider something else,” he said. When he raised his head, he looked like a man going to his execution. “I’ve swapped a life of lying, cheating, and smuggling for that of spying – a no less desperate and morally questionable profession, and a thousand times more dangerous. I could be killed in a heartbeat and you’d never know my fate. I could be tortured by the French but released and return to you a broken, changed man.
“Let’s not forget the sea. Tens of thousands of sailors have left widows and fatherless children. Have you considered you may have to raise a child on your own? Does that make a difference to you, Susannah? Do you give me a different answer even knowing, wherever the road takes us, it will not be easy?”
Susannah turned toward him and raised her chin with far more confidence, now sure in her love – and his. “No. It still does not make a difference.”
“Then I shall ask you again. Susannah, will you marry me?
“Yes. The answer is yes. Without doubt or hesitation.”
With her hand in one of his, Nate reached for her with his other hand, cupping the back of her head, and he kissed her. Susannah drew close to him, giving him her answer with her body as well as her words. Thorough, demanding kisses were taken and given in return, but she wanted more still. Eventually, she broke free, gasping for air and savored the way he kissed her neck and caressed her cheek.
“We’re going to make it, beloved,” he said. “One day at a time.”
She knew the expression in his eyes and wanted nothing more than for him to make love to her without hesitation or reservation. Instead, he got to his feet.
“Come,” he said, extending a hand down to her. “We’d better return to the party before we’re missed.”
They walked hand-in-hand back to the gathering. Once, Susannah would have been embarrassed by such a display of affection in public, Indeed, she had not done such a thing in her entire adult life. But now she didn’t care who saw her. Let them speculate on the nature of their relationship – most likely they’d be correct.
Mrs. Johnston said something to the musicians, who played a flourish to win everyone’s attention.
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“Now the bride and groom wish to take leave of us, but there is one more service they need to perform,” she said. This was followed by a typical amount of whistles and teasing. Clem cupped his hands and answered back. Although Susannah was too far away to hear his words over the ballyhoo, the resulting laughter suggested the rejoinder was very well received.
Peggy, the radiant bride, blushed and looked ten years younger than her age. She waved over to them.
“Now, all the unmarried ladies,” said Mrs. Johnston, “come to the front here. Don’t be shy, you might never know your luck.”
Tressa grabbed Susannah’s hand as she and Nate came alongside. The girl started to pull her forward to the front of the line.
“Oh no, Tressa, I don’t think it means someone like me,” she said, but the girl would not be daunted. Nate released her other hand. Susannah looked back to see his grin of amusement.
Peggy waited until all spinsters had assembled – the girls too embarrassed to even look at the boys they had their hearts set on and young women who gave their beaus a significant look before joining the group. Susannah found herself in the middle.
Peggy surveyed the crowd and caught Susannah’s eyes once more, giving her a wink before turning her back.
“On the count of three,” said Mrs. Johnston.
Peggy raised and lowered the arm that held the bouquet in time with the count.
One – Two – THREE!
The toss was high, sailing over the heads of those who jostled toward the front. The bouquet appeared to be heading directly for Susannah – a very unsubtle sign from Peggy. Oh well, she may as well accept it in good grace. She stepped onto her back foot, ready to catch it when Tressa jumped high, intercepting the arrangement.
She squealed at her success and became the center of attention in a clutch of her friends.
Sam, who had remained on the sidelines, received a good-natured jostling from his friends and didn’t appear at all dismayed.
Clem left to arrange their horse and trap. Peggy called Susannah over.
“I knew Tressa would do that. You should have got in with your elbows, Duch,” she joked. “But, seriously, I’ve left instructions for her in the kitchen and I’ve written down the recipes for the week. Now, mind you and Tressa don’t go altering them because they won’t work…”
Susannah silenced her with a hug.
“Don’t worry about us. The Queen’s Head will be closed tomorrow and we can survive for the rest of the week. Nervous?”
“Yes… no…” Peggy let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know! I’ve never been married before…”
Susannah kissed her friend on the cheek. “You and Clem will be blissfully happy together, I know it.”
“What about you and the pirate?” Peggy whispered. “I saw you two wandering off earlier on.”
She patted Peggy on the arm.
“We’re working things out.”
Peggy’s eyes brightened speculatively.
“Then you work them out, Duch. They don’t come much better than Nate.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lillian pushed her annoyance down as far as it could go and planted a pleasant expression on her face to entertain her husband’s guests.
The sclerotic bores always set her teeth on edge, yet she put up with it to give an illusion of domestic harmony. They and their business generally occupied enough of Martin’s time to leave her to her own devices, and he gave her enough money to do what she liked with it.
Lillian had to own that, in their own way, she and Martin were a formidable team. They both had their roles and played them to perfection. Furthermore, they both had their affairs and were equally willing to turn a blind eye to keep their aim on a common goal of a prosperous life. She would not put that arrangement in jeopardy.
Still, the continued presence of the bank board chaffed since she had pressing engagement of her own. The stranger, the one who was particularly keen on tracking down Susannah Linwood – beg pardon, Mrs. Susannah Moorcroft – awaited her.
While she flattered and charmed her husband’s guests, Lillian’s true attention was on her own private affairs. She was quite prepared to admit to being intrigued about why such an insipid thing as this Moorcroft woman inspired such devotion from Nathaniel Payne – and such passionate hatred in this Robert Lawnton.
Back in May, she thought to poison Nathaniel’s mind against the widow by suggesting there was something more to the woman than she’d led him to believe. That was her mistake. Men were often weak for a woman with mystery, and she had fed into it.
She might have just left it, if not for poking through her husband’s magisterial documents and discovering the name Susannah went by was not her legal name. She’d chanced upon a letter from the woman’s solicitor in Kent and was pleasantly surprised by his indiscreet revelation that someone else was looking for her, too.
A series of carefully worded advertisements in newspapers around Kent eventually bore fruit.
This Lawnton man claimed Linwood had something from her late husband that belonged to him. He was most keen to have it returned.
Well, he should have it, should he not?
And so, if she could not destroy Nate’s interest in Susannah, perhaps she would simply have to ruin the woman’s reputation.
With a smear on her name, she would lose her license to serve alcohol. The Queen’s Head would require a new publican. And, with a word in the right ears and the hand-picked selection of a more “suitable” person for the role, there could be a further fine profit in it for her and Martin to share.
After their guests had departed, Martin Doyle kissed his wife on the cheek. “That was a fine luncheon, my dear, thank you.”
Lillian caressed his chin. Martin responded with a fulsome kiss into the palm of her other hand.
“If you will excuse me, I wish to take some air. I will take a walk down to the boathouse.”
Martin raised an eyebrow. “Anyone I know?” he asked with only the mildest of interest.
“No dear, no one of importance.”
The interminable luncheon meant it wasn’t until two o’clock before she could meet her “guest”. She did not bother to change from her fine day gown nor remove the pearls that went with it. The meeting should not take long.
Once she pointed Lawnton in the right direction, she could watch events unfold without anyone being the wiser as to her involvement.
The boathouse door was ajar when Lillian entered. On the round wooden table were the remains of a repast. Whoever Robert Lawnton was, he hadn’t wasted time making himself at home.
Behind her, the door slammed shut. She swiftly turned to find a large man barring her way. Lillian looked him up and down. He was a big man, indeed, with a not unpleasant face to look at. He was in his late-forties, she guessed, still strong enough to be virile, but the years were beginning to show.
“Lawnton, I presume,” she said, with all the imperiousness of her status.
The man twisted a smile and bowed.
“My lady, I fear you have the advantage of me.”
She returned the same kind of smile. “How come I find that hard to believe?”
“Does the lady wish to remain incognito?”
Lillian shrugged.
“I see no harm in telling you who I am. In this desperate little pocket of the world, my identity wouldn’t be difficult to guess. I am Lillian Doyle, wife of the local magistrate, and I happen to be in a position to do you a good service.”
“So you said in your letter.”
“I know where Susannah Moorcroft is.”
The man’s expression sharpened and, indeed, hardened.
“She goes by the name of Susannah Linwood and, if you can believe it, she’s the publican of The Queen’s Head outside the village. She’s ingratiated herself quite snugly in St. Sennen society.”
“And I assume that’s a problem for you.”
“A minor one I trust you’ll rectify for me.”
“Why, Madam,” he said with exaggerated politeness, “I only wish her to return something of mine that I value.”
Lillian laughed.
“A man does not spend two years in prison and not dream about the day he is released and the revenge he intends to exact,” she said, quietly satisfied by the briefest flicker across his face of shock at her knowledge of his recently completed imprisonment. “No, I think I know your type, Lawnton, and I don’t believe I’m mistaken at the level of mutual antipathy we have for this woman.”
*
Susannah unlocked the front door to The Queen’s Head, struck by the silence. She stepped inside and closed her eyes, recalling what it was like when she first inspected the place more than a year ago.
It hadn’t looked like much, but she knew it to be solid. Nothing a little love and attention couldn’t fix.
A bit like her, really.
She smiled to herself and closed her eyes to remember.
The windows had been nearly opaque with smoke and grime, floorboards in need of a serious scrub and a coat of varnish, the walls long overdue for a good scraping down and repaint.
When she opened her eyes, she saw what she and Peggy had accomplished. Whitewashed walls, plenty of light through clear windows, solid tables clean until they shone.
She heard Nate enter. He placed two hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck.
“What were you thinking?” he whispered against her ear. She sighed and leaned back into him.
“About how far I’ve come,” she said. She closed her eyes as he kissed her ear.
“You have every right to be proud of this place,” he answered as he continued to kiss her neck and further down to her shoulder.
She lifted her arms up and back until her hands reached the back of Nate’s head and she savored the luxurious feel of his hair in her fingers.
Nate’s hands left her shoulders. The flats of his hands rubbed up and down the sides of her torso from the sides of her breasts down to her hips, and back up and across until his palms cupped her breasts fully.
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