Smuggler's Glory (27 page)

“
If I had then you would have insisted on coming with me, and
that would have defeated the purpose of me going for a walk to get
some time to myself, now wouldn’t it?” Francesca snapped, feeling
her own temper fray. “Now, as much as I would like to stand here
while you rant at me for going about my life, I am cold, tired and
wet and am going to get changed before I die of putrid lungs.” With
that she swept out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind
her.

She
didn’t bother to lock the door of her room behind her. Right now,
if anyone poked their head in through the door, she would probably
beat them to death with her pillow. Instead, she removed her sodden
clothing and quickly changed into warm, dry ones. She was starving,
but refused to go back down to the kitchen in search of
sustenance.

Seeing
Simon looking so at home in her kitchen made her want to cry. She
wanted to weep on his shoulder at the same time as she wanted to
shout at him for being so heartless. But she knew she couldn’t do
either. He had done everything humanly possible to protect her from
her problems. He had dealt with Mr Lindsay, even lied to her
parents in an attempt to leave her with an easier life, but there
was nothing he could do about the pain his departure would bring
her. Except stay – which is something she knew he simply couldn’t
and wouldn’t do.

Lighting
the fire, she slumped into the chair and placed her feet on the
fender to try to warm her frozen toes. She could understand her
uncle’s devotion to his wife and his determination when she was so
swiftly taken from him, never to replace her. When one finds one’s
true love in life, it was impossible to replace it with anything,
or anyone. Simon was her one true love. She couldn’t bear the
thought of anything happening to him, but was helpless to find a
way to prevent him from placing himself in danger. It was an
integral part of him; what he did. One that he wasn’t prepared to
turn his back on, even for her.

Not that
she could blame him. She had nothing to offer him except for a
run-down mansion, nightmare parents and desolate moorland. The urge
to leave the chair, go downstairs and be with him was so strong
that she trembled with the need to move. She was so lost in
thought, that she didn’t notice when he appeared in the doorway
nearly an hour later.

When it
became apparent that Francesca wouldn’t be returning to the
kitchen, Simon realised that he would have to go and find her. He
wasn’t lost to the fact that she was still at Thistledown, on the
eve of their skirmish with the smugglers. She should be in Padstow
by now. Hugo would already be wondering where she and Bertie had
got to and deciding when to head out in search of her. Simon felt
time pressing in on him and it made him want to shout that it
wasn’t long enough.

Sighing
deeply, he knocked gently on the door. He didn’t wait for her to
invite him in, simply entered and closed the door behind him. He
had forewarned Archie, Pie and Bertie that he was going to confront
her about leaving. Bertie was already packing his bag, having
assured them that he could find his way through the moors without a
problem. Simon hated to send her out across the moors with nobody
to protect her except an old man, but there just wasn’t the time to
arrange for someone more adequately armed, better trained and
younger. He simply couldn’t countenance the possibility that she
could remain in Thistledown tomorrow while they prepared the
armoury they would need for the battle.

“
I want to talk to you about tomorrow,” Simon began, sitting on
the edge of the bed.

Francesca felt her stomach drop and knew he was about to
announce his departure. She tried hard not to shift uncomfortably
in her seat and waited patiently for him to continue, but she
couldn’t ignore the strength of the cry of denial that hovered on
her lips.

“
We have found out what we need to know to bring about the
resolution to the mission we were sent here for, as you
know.”

Unable
to form the words, Francesca merely nodded.

“
I know you don’t want to go, but you really must leave
Thistledown for a few days.” He held up a hand when she
instinctively began to protest, and watched as she jumped to her
feet, turning to glare at him. Unfortunately that put her directly
in front of the fire that turned her nightgown almost
see-through.

“
I can’t order you to go, you know that. But I want you to
understand just how dangerous it is going to become around here
while we return life to normal. None of us can be here to protect
you if Lindsay evades capture and decides to come calling, and he
inevitably knows that you are alone with only a frail old man for
company. I don’t want what happened to Madeline to happen to you.”
He tried to keep his voice reasonable, but couldn’t stop the raw
fear from making his words almost biting.

“
I am not really your concern, Simon, you know
that.”

“
I am afraid you very much are my concern and have been for
quite some time.” Francesca lapsed into silence, waiting for
something, anything, to show that he really cared for her. She
wondered briefly if he would declare his affection for her again
like he did outside, but then reality reminded her starkly that men
like Simon weren’t interested in women like her. His declaration
had been a ruse; a fabrication created to throw her greedy family
off her scent.

“
You don’t need to feel responsible for me. I have done nothing
more than put a roof over your head for a few nights. You have paid
anything you think you have owed me a hundred times over by the way
you helped with Madeline’s body, chased after the intruder so
readily and confronted my father. You didn’t need to take on my
battles, not when you were facing so many of your own.”

“
I am not a noble man,” Simon argued, rising to stand before
her. “I am a humble man who has seen more than his fair share of
death and destruction. You need to understand that I have spent my
life in the darkness for so long now that I don’t belong in the
light.” He lifted her hand and placed his much larger one against
it. “We are darkness and light. Opposites. You are sunshine and
beautiful skies, I am darkness and clouds. I don’t know how I could
ever adapt to a life of domesticity and permanence and, as a
result, I have nothing I can offer you except myself, which isn’t
much. You deserve much more, Francesca. Someone who will love you
the way you ought to be loved. Someone who will help you turn this
place into a home and send your relatives off with a flea in their
ear if they should be stupid enough to show their faces again.”
Simon sighed and led her over to the bed, waiting until she sat,
before taking a seat beside her. “Believe me, if I could change
things then I would, but right now I am facing what is going to be
probably the biggest battle of my fighting life. We are facing a
very dangerous enemy who has a lot to lose and will do whatever is
necessary to evade capture. I may not get out alive,” he said the
words, the truth, without thinking and realised his error at her
cry of alarm. He glanced up and caught the horror in her eyes,
smiling gently at her with humour that didn’t reach his eyes. He
knew that he had been unfair by declaring the depth of his
affection for her, especially given that he was leaving soon, but
the words had broken free before he could stop them. It had felt so
right, so natural that he couldn’t regret them. A small part of him
wasn’t ignorant of the fact that it was most probably going to be
the only chance he may have to tell her.

“
I want you to go and stay with a friend of mine and his wife
for several days. He will keep you safe. His wife is wonderful, and
would be so happy to have another woman to talk to. Please,
Francesca, take Bertie to Padstow for a few days. Keep him safe as
well. Pack a bag now, and you can leave at first light.”

But
Francesca was already shaking her head. “This is my home,” she
whispered. “I won’t leave it – you.” The words hung between them,
ripping the tension like pebbles thrown into a calm
pond.

“
I don’t want you here,” Simon sighed, staring down at her
hands in an attempt to avoid the pleading he could see building in
her beautiful eyes. “I will be able to concentrate on fighting to
stay alive better if half of me isn’t thinking about where you are
and if you are safe. Please give me a fighting chance, and go and
stay with Hugo and Harriett in Padstow.”

Francesca hesitated. She was torn beyond words. The last
thing she wanted was to arrive unannounced in any stranger’s house
and prevail upon their generosity while waiting to learn Simon’s
fate. She didn’t think she could stand the fear, the stress and the
worry.

Simon
cursed fluidly, feeling desperation build. He saw the stubborn
determination creep across her face and shook his head at fate for
handing him such an awkward female. Why was she not biddable and
easily cowed like most women? Why had God decided to hand him the
woman of his dreams, who had the determination of a
mule?

“
For God’s sake, Francesca, think about the danger staying here
is placing you in.” He struggled with the urge to punch the wall
beside them in frustration, and instead dropped to his knees before
her, grabbing her shoulders in a firm hold and giving them a quick
shake. “The next time you are here in the middle of the night and
you come across an intruder, I won’t be here to protect you. These
people will think nothing of doing the same to you as they did to
Madeline. Don’t leave yourself open to that kind of death.” He
shook his head, quickly blocking out the vision of Francesca with a
knife sticking out of her.

“
I have learned that life is never kind and generous. For
everything you receive, you lose something precious to you in equal
measure,” Francesca replied flatly. “I once thought that
Thistledown would be my salvation,” she sighed, glancing at the
room around them dispassionately. “Now, though, I do consider it
may be a curse,” she whispered, turning lambent eyes on
his.

The
sadness in her gaze unmanned him and he shook his head. “You have
such a wonderful future ahead of you, my darling. Don’t be afraid
to go after it. Take chances. Do what you think is right, but make
sure that you have that future to call your own.” His voice was
husky with the depth of his despair. He hated to see her like this
and wondered as to the cause. Thistledown was her pride and joy.
Her home. What had happened to make her look on it with such
cynical eyes? He frowned up at her but she merely smiled gently at
him. Tears shimmered on her long eyelashes, clingingly resolutely
against the gravity that would make them fall.

In that
moment, Francesca made a decision. Drawing her hand away from his,
she slowly cupped his cheeks. She could feel the bristles of his
stubble prickling her fingertips. She couldn’t say the words she
wanted to put a voice to, but she could show him. Lowering her
head, she placed her lips ever so gently against his and felt
rather than heard his swift intake of breath. When his hands rose
to cover hers, she thought for one brief moment that he was going
to draw away, apologise and put some distance between them.
Instead, his large fingers curled around her delicate bones, and he
drew her hands behind his head, running his large palms down her
arms. Drawing her forward, he rose to his feet, pulling her closer
until she was held so tightly against his masculine length that it
was difficult to breathe. But Francesca made no protest, merely
opened her mouth, silently pleading with him to deepen the
kiss.

“
God, Francesca,” Simon gasped several long minutes later. He
buried his lips in the fragrant curve of her neck and sucked in a
deep breath. Until the day he died, he would never forget her
scent. The delicate hint of lavender sweetened by the glorious
undertones of honeysuckle reminded him of warm summer evenings. He
placed one hot, wet kiss in the hollow at the base of her neck,
gathering her long hair into his hands when she tipped her head
back to allow him better access.

“
Go to Padstow,” Simon begged, drawing away enough to place
random kisses along the delicate sweep of her jaw. “Go to safety,
where I know you will be protected and cared for. Do that for me,
Francesca. Do it for me.”

Francesca opened her eyes. She had to struggle to break free
of the gentle haze that had settled over her, and focus on his
words. Looking deep into his beautiful blue eyes, she tried to
convey everything she found it impossible to say.

“
On one condition,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to his
lips at the same time she slid her hands beneath his shirt to find
the warm flesh beneath.

“
What?” Simon growled, feeling the last tendrils of
self-control begin to tremble. He had decided downstairs that if
arguing with her wasn’t going to work, then he wasn’t averse to a
little gentle persuasion. Whether she wanted to acknowledge it or
not, he had meant every word he had said to her parents earlier in
the day. They may not have a marriage certificate but as far as
Simon was concerned, they may as well be married. He loved her with
all of his heart. It didn’t matter that she didn’t love him back.
It would be enough if she could allow him to share her life. If
only that were possible. Right now, he didn’t know if he had a
life, a future, to look toward.

“
Make love to me.” Her words hovered in the air around them for
several heartbeats. She could sense his hesitation and wondered if
he was repulsed by the idea. Slowly, reluctantly, she raised her
eyes to his.