Smuggler's Glory (18 page)

Simon
nodded. “It could have been Charlie or Tom but somehow it doesn’t
seem something someone of their intellect would think of doing.
They aren’t clever enough. This was done by someone who was trying
to scare you.”

“
Make me leave, you mean,” Francesca declared sickly. She felt
her stomach lurch that someone that sick had been to her own back
door.

Simon
nodded slowly.

“
I’m not going to be scared off,” Francesca snapped, fighting
the urge to stomp her foot in temper. “This is my home. The only
home I have ever really had where I can be myself. I am not going
to be driven out of here by Tom and Charlie, Mr Lindsay or anyone
else.”

Sensing
her rising ire, along with her rising voice, Simon rose to his feet
and placed his hands calmingly on her thin shoulders.

“
I am not, for one second, suggesting you should. But there is
definitely something going on around here that is dangerous. We
don’t know if Mr Lindsay is involved, and until we do find out who
this man is, you cannot take any unnecessary risks.” He hated the
questions he had to ask her, and knew that given her current bad
temper, she wouldn’t take them kindly but, having seen Mr Lindsay’s
arrival, felt the need to pave the way for any future hurt she
might feel when the truth was eventually revealed. He had no doubt
that it would be revealed, it was just a matter of when, and who it
would condemn.

He
turned, shoving her behind him when the door suddenly opened and
Bertie’s silhouette appeared.

“
Gone to the well,” he mumbled, shuffling inside and taking his
habitual seat.

“
Are you sure?”

Bertie
shook his head, shooting Simon a solemn look.

“
Who has gone to the well? What is going on? I demand that you
tell me know, Simon. This is my home and I have a right to know
what you two are up to.” Francesca tried to keep her voice calm and
reasonable but could hear the shrill tones hidden in the husky
depths.

“
It’s nothing for you to fret over, miss,” Bertie sighed. “The
man here is just looking out for you and he has my full support.
You should listen to him.”

“
I would,” Francesca replied, turning accusing eyes on Simon,
“If he told me anything.”

Simon
sighed, searching for the right words and failing miserably. “What
do you know about what Madeline did during the years you didn’t see
her?”

“
Madeline is beyond suspicion,” Francesca replied weakly. If
she was honest, Madeline’s behaviour of late was becoming
increasingly strange. Her once amiable demeanour had started to
show undertones of a sullen nature that worried Francesca. That,
along with her aversion to Bertie’s presence in the house and her
objection to anyone being in the kitchen while she prepared dinner,
all hinted at a change in her once friendly companion that made
Francesca wonder if she really did know her old
nursemaid.

“
Nobody is beyond suspicion, Francesca. If you refuse to doubt
anybody then you are only setting yourself up for a fool,” Simon
replied harshly, immediately regretting his words when hurt flooded
her face. “I’m sorry to sound so harsh, but this is a cruel world
where nobody should be trusted.”

“
Nobody?” Francesca gasped, staring at him in
horror.

“
Nobody,” Simon replied flatly.

“
Even you?” Something made her ask the question, but once the
words left her mouth, she regretted them.

“
Even me,” he sighed, running a weary hand down his face. His
side itched furiously where he had been bitten earlier, and he was
fairly sure he had bracken stuck in his breeches. He longed for a
nice hot bath and a large brandy, but knew that luxury was a very
long way away.

“
I don’t know what she did,” Francesca sighed, moving to sit on
the box beside Bertie. “Whenever I ask, she says she took various
nursemaid jobs around London. The address I used was always the
same one in London, but whether she lived there or not, I am not
entirely sure. She did respond to my letters in a most personal way
indicating that she did actually read my letters, so I can only
assume that she collected her correspondence
frequently.”

“
Do you know if she ever married?”

Francesca’s eyes shot skyward and she had to think carefully
over her numerous conversations she had had with Madeline. Now that
she came to think it over, it had been she who had imparted most of
the information, while Madeline listened and asked questions. In
reality, there was very little information she had actually managed
to gather on her friend.

“
I don’t know.”

“
Boyfriends? Other places she has lived besides
London?”

“
Sorry, not a clue,” Francesca sighed, glancing toward Bertie.
“Has she spoken about any of it to you?”

Bertie
snorted and looked askance at her. “She hates me. Damned woman
tried to drug me,” he grumbled, forgetting that Francesca hadn’t
been told about his unfortunate encounter with the hot
chocolate.

“
What?”
Francesca lifted horrified
eyes to Simon, who briefly recounted Bertie’s story.

“
Are you sure it was drugged?”

“
As sure as I am you are sitting beside me,” Bertie declared
firmly. “She hates me being in the kitchen too,” he glanced
pointedly at Simon who nodded in understanding.

“
Practically ordered me out of the kitchen when she was making
breakfast this morning, and was downright aggressive when I refused
to budge,” Simon added.

“
So
that’s
what you two have been up to.” She shook her head at the men
as though they were recalcitrant children. “Do you think she might
poison dinner?” She was only half-joking and was unsurprised and
alarmed in equal measure when both men seemed to consider the
possibility carefully.

“
We don’t know, but I don’t want to take any chances, do you?”
Simon asked silkily, pleased when she lapsed into shocked
silence.

“
So what do we do?” Francesca asked after several minutes of
silence. “We can’t sit up in the attic room all night.”

“
We make sure she isn’t left in the kitchen unattended, and
only eat foods we have seen her prepare for ourselves. We also
start to keep an eye on where she goes and what she does during the
daytime.”

“
But she doesn’t go anywhere,” Francesca protested, thinking
back to the many hours they had spent taking inventory of the
better half of the house.

“
She does go outside. How do we know she isn’t meeting someone
at the back of the stable block?”

Francesca stared up at him. “What is it like to go through
life so suspicious of everyone?” She wondered what had made him so
cynical that he refused to see the good in anyone.

“
It has kept me alive,” Simon declared flatly, refusing to
explain, “And will continue to do so for many years to
come.

Francesca shivered at the starkness of his features as he
turned back toward the window.

“
Until we do find out a bit more about Madeline, please don’t
go anywhere with her without telling me first. Unless I have lost
some of my abilities, she will suggest a trip into town soon,” he
glanced back at Francesca and Bertie who sat staring at him.
“Don’t, under any circumstances, go with her unless I go
too.”

“
Simon,” Francesca chided softly with a shiver. She hated the
doubt he was placing in her mind. She wanted to protest Madeline’s
innocence, but at the same time ask him more questions.

“
Just who are you?”

“
He’s on our side,” Bertie whispered, sensing Simon didn’t want
her to know.

“
But -.”

“
I suggest we all make our way back downstairs, and spend the
rest of our evening in front of the fire,” Simon said briskly,
striding toward the door and holding it open for Bertie to shuffle
through. “Francesca will be down in a few minutes. Which door are
you going through?”

“
Through the morning room, I’ll have been playing billiards
with you,” Bertie replied sneakily, shooting Simon a quick grin.
“I’ll set ‘em up.”

Simon
smiled and nodded. “I’ll go easy on you,” and closed the door on
Bertie’s chuckle. He turned to stare down at Francesca who stood by
the window, encased in moonlight. She looked so ethereal, he was
certain that if he tried to touch her, she would vanish.

“
I work for king and country, Francesca, that’s all I can tell
you and all I have told Bertie,” Simon said, moving to stand behind
her. He couldn’t resist temptation and gently stroked a finger down
the silken strands of her hair that had escaped from the tight knot
at her nape. He was relieved that she had decided to stop pasting
her hair with that awful white colour, allowing her glorious,
natural colour to shine through. “Trust me, Francesca,” he
whispered, wishing he could draw her into his arms. He almost
cursed when she turned around and stared up at him. Her lips
glistened temptingly, begging to be kissed, and he felt his body
respond to her nearness.

“
I can’t, Francesca,” Simon sighed, wishing he was able to draw
her into his arms and lay claim to her senses. But he knew that by
touching her, it wouldn’t be only her senses that were
claimed.

“
I know,” Francesca replied gently, feeling a surge of
humiliation at his ability to read her mind. “I
understand.”

“
Do you?” Simon sighed, knowing she didn’t understand at all.
“I don’t think you do,” he muttered, wishing he had the time and
the opportunity to explain to her. But he didn’t understand himself
yet, and wasn’t sure he ever would. He had never experienced the
feelings she created within him, and he was reluctant to study them
too closely. It was as though by acknowledging them and putting a
name to them, they would impact his life in a way that could never
be undone. Inside, a small voice warned that it may already be far
too late.

“
Were you sent to Thistledown?” Francesca asked, determined to
get some answers from him once and for all.

Simon
shook his head slowly.

“
Much Hampton?”

He
nodded.

“
You are here to investigate the strange behaviour of the
locals.”

“
Sort of. I cannot tell you any more, it is confidential
information that I am not able to reveal to anyone.”

“
So your presence in my house?”

“
Is purely an accident brought about by Tom and Charlie’s
attack on you.”

“
So why are you involving yourself in my problems?”

Simon
paused, unable to reveal why he felt driven to get so deeply
involved in battles that weren’t his.

“
You have placed a roof over my head without question, and
given me food and lodgings in exchange for no payment. I am not the
kind of man who can turn a blind eye to any woman being bullied or
threatened in her own home. While I am here, I will try to get to
the bottom of why Mr Lindsay seems so determined to obtain
Thistledown. When I leave, I hope to leave the village of Much
Hampton a much happier place to live.”

“
Will that be soon?” Francesca tried to ignore the stab of
disappointment that swept over her at the thought of not seeing him
each day, even from a distance.

“
I hope to get my mission completed as soon as possible. There
are people waiting for my assistance on other matters.” It was as
close to the truth as he dared tell her and he struggled to keep
his voice neutral in an attempt to thwart any more of her
questions.

“
Then I think we had better return downstairs before Bertie
comes to find his billiards partner,” she said wryly, trying
desperately for a cheery smile and failing miserably. She battled
with the sting of tears all the way down the stairs, aware that
Simon wasn’t behind her.

Rather
than go back downstairs, and face Madeline’s fury she went to her
room, locking the door carefully behind her. She usually found
solace in gazing out into the moors from her favourite place on the
window seat. But tonight, nothing would soothe her shattered
senses. Her entire life was once again thrown into confusion,
leaving her to wonder if it would ever settle down enough for her
to make sense of it.

Closing
the shutters with a quiet snap, she drew the curtains closed and
changed into her nightgown, climbing beneath the sheets moments
later with a tired sigh. Heart-sore and more confused than ever,
she curled into a tight ball of misery and wept. The tears flowed
for the loss of her uncle, the fear of her very uncertain future,
and the loss of not only the vast grandeur of what had been
Thistledown Manor, but also the one person she had considered her
only trustworthy friend. If she looked too closely into the depths
of her heart, she would have to face the fact that her tears were
for the impending loss of the one man whom, she suspected, lay
claim to her heart.

She
cursed herself for being every kind of idiot for allowing herself
to fall so easily for a veritable stranger. It was inevitable that
a man like Simon wouldn’t want to spend his life in such a desolate
place as Thistledown. Moreover, be shackled to someone like her.
Not when he could be in the bright lights of London, with beautiful
women who were more than willing to see to his every need while
asking for very little in return.