Smuggler's Glory (28 page)

“
I have nothing to offer you,” he groaned. “Don’t ask me to do
the one thing I want more than anything, and then just leave you.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes.

Francesca took the negative shake of his head as rejection.
This time she made no attempt to stop the tears from
falling.

The
sadness was back in her eyes and he knew that he wasn’t so cold
that he could walk away. He couldn’t see any way to let her down
gently, and if he was honest with himself, he wanted this one night
with her. Whatever the future held for either of them, making love
tonight, with him, clearly meant as much to her as it did to him.
He couldn’t find it within his heart to deny her.

“
You will hate me in the morning,” he whispered.

“
No I won’t,” Francesca argued, unable to tell him that she
knew that she would never find anyone to replace him. If one night
was all she was going to have, then she was going to make the most
of it.

Silence
settled around them as Simon gave her what she wanted the
most.

Him.

Soft
sighs and gentle whispers continued well into the night as they
made every precious moment count.

The
following morning Francesca awoke to the gentle and persistent
shaking of her shoulder.

“
Please go away,” she mumbled, snuggling down into the plump
pillow. She rolled over, wriggling against the slight soreness of
various parts of her body that hadn’t been there the day before.
The memories of what she had spent the night sharing with Simon
came tumbling forth, chasing away any lingering sleep.

Opening
her eyes, she stared up into Simon’s gentle gaze mere inches from
hers.

“
Morning,” he whispered, placing a tender kiss on her lips.
“How do you feel this morning?”

“
Tired,” Francesca replied, feeling a now familiar sadness dim
the happiness that had been bubbling through her.

“
I’ve brought you some breakfast,” he announced, nodding
sheepishly at the tray resting on the table beside the bed. “I
thought you might be hungry.”

Francesca felt her heart flip at his thoughtfulness and
stared at the hot, buttered toast and fruit sitting beside the hot
chocolate.

“
For me?” her voice trembled, and she sat up in time for him to
place the heavy tray across her lap. She was still struggling with
trying to cover her modesty with the stubborn sheet, when the heavy
weight of the tray snatched it out of her fingers, leaving her bare
to Simon’s interested gaze. Her cheeks flamed and she glanced
around frantically for something she could cover herself
with.

“
It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Simon growled, feeling
his tired body begin to respond. Deciding to preserve her blushes,
he handed her the nightgown he had removed the night before and
busied himself with opening one of the shutters while she covered
herself. There was after all only so much temptation a man could
stand.

He moved
the chair she had used the night before to the side of the bed and
took a seat, shaking his head at the piece of toast she held out to
him.

“
I’ve eaten already.” He shifted, hating to broach the subject
but knowing it was inevitable. “Bertie and Archie are getting the
carriage ready. When you are dressed and packed, just come
downstairs.”

Francesca suddenly lost her appetite and carefully deposited
her toast back onto her plate. It was difficult to swallow past the
lump in her throat all of a sudden and she found it extremely hard
to look at him.

“
There are a few things that I need to tell you about while we
are alone,” he began several minutes later, when she made no
attempt to eat anything else. Removing the tray, he sat carefully
on the bed facing her and picked up one of her hands. He knew she
was upset at leaving, but there simply no way he could agree to her
staying.

“
I have sent word to my solicitor that if something should
happen to me, you are to be my sole beneficiary.” He ignored her
gasp of surprise and squeezed her hands, silently asking her to
remain quiet for now. “I want you to promise me that when you
return to Thistledown, you use the money you have inherited to
staff this place the way it should be. It is far too big for you
and Bertie to manage by yourselves and you need the added security
of more people around and about. By the sounds of it, most of your
staff will come from the village anyway, but you need someone who
can clean, and run this house the way it should be run. That will
give you more time to oversee the refurbishment of this place. I
want you to start to turn this place into a home, Francesca. Your
home.”

Francesca shook her head, drawing her hands out of his. “I
have decided to leave it as it is,” she replied softly. “There are
enough rooms for me and Bertie and, well, Bertie is an old man. He
won’t be around forever. When he has gone, there will be just me
and it seems such a huge expense for one person to live in. I may
just sell it and move on.” She didn’t add that she couldn’t bear
the thought of living in a house that had so many memories of him
inside. She would be forever waiting for the day he would walk back
through the door, only she knew it wouldn’t happen.

“
Don’t give up on it, darling,” Simon pleaded, feeling his
heart clench tightly. “What has brought about such a change in your
opinion of the place? You love the moors and the house.”

“
I do, but there are not so good memories here now as well,”
she replied honestly. “There are smaller cottages around the moors
that could be refurbished more easily at a fraction of the cost. I
may purchase one of those to spend the rest of my days
in.”

“
You could also find yourself a husband to settle down with,”
Simon suggested, feeling a surge of jealousy for the unnamed
man.

Francesca merely looked at him before slowly shaking her
head. “Nobody would want to be stuck with me. I’m slightly
eccentric, had you not noticed?”

Simon
shook his head. “I think all of us have some eccentricity in us
somewhere. It is what makes us interesting. But there is nothing
about you that makes you unmarriageable.”

The
words ‘except to you’ hovered on her lips, but she kept them to
herself. She was trying hard to retain her dignity and not turn
into a quivering, wailing heap of feminine misery, but it was
difficult.

“
I’ll get dressed now.” She didn’t need to ask what he planned
to do. He had made it clear that if he survived the night, his
mission here was done. He would pack up, move on and continue
fighting. There was nothing she could offer him that could tempt
him to turn his back on the kind of life he had lived for many
years now, and nothing she could say that would persuade him to
return.

Taking
his cue to leave, Simon pushed to his feet, wishing they had more
time to settle things between them a bit more. He knew that if he
died, the solicitors in London would contact her to inform her of
the additional wealth she would receive. Although there was nothing
he could do about his title, she would have his amassed money that
was a considerable amount from both family inheritance and his own
untouched earnings. He also knew that Hugo would keep a careful eye
on her, and make sure that if she did run into difficulties, she
would find a worthy ally to help fight her corner.

It
should have made it easier for him to leave, but somehow it made
him more uncomfortable than ever. He knew he was being pessimistic
in expecting the worst. With many years of training behind him, he
was more than capable of taking care of himself, but none of the
Star Elite knew just what they were going into, just how many
people were working underground posing a threat. Until they
confronted it, they had to face the danger with the same selfless
bravery they gave to every mission they went on.

This
time though, Simon fervently hoped that he was alive at the end of
this mission to at least consider his options. Although everyone
fully expected him to pack up and return to base camp to regroup,
he wasn’t so sure he wanted that kind of life any more. Francesca
had drawn him into her world of light and given him a taste of what
it was like to be on the receiving end of gentleness and
compassion. He didn’t want to return to the life of darkness,
shadows and perpetual threat. Especially now, after everything he
had shared in Francesca’s bed last night.

“
I’ll see you downstairs,” he murmured, closing the door behind
him with a soft click. He was battling with a confusing mix of
reluctance to leave her, and urgency to get the next few hours over
and done with so he could get on with his life.

Francesca descended the stairs minutes later as regally as
Anne Boleyn on her way to her execution. She had such a tight grip
on her emotions that her knuckles had turned white. She was
struggling to find anything appropriate to say to Simon and his
friends. What did you say to men who were about to knowingly walk
into a battle that could result in their deaths? Good luck? Stay
safe? They all seemed so banal.

When she
arrived in the kitchens it was to see the carriage waiting directly
outside. Bertie was sitting atop the box seat, while Archie was
holding the horse quiet and steady. Pie and Simon were nowhere to
be seen. She wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or not.

She
jumped when Simon silently appeared at her elbow. He had apparently
been studying the fire damage in the abandoned wing. Taking her
elbow in a gentle hold, he escorted her to the carriage door,
handing her bag into the darkened depths before turning toward
her.

“
Whose carriage is this?” she asked, studying the unfamiliar
outline of the huge lumbering conveyance.

“
You mean you don’t remember it?”

Francesca shook her head, wondering if it would make it to
Padstow. It must have been as old as Bertie.

“
It was your uncle’s. Well, your aunt’s really. Your uncle put
it into storage when your aunt passed, and refused to get rid of
it. It has only seen daylight for maintenance,” Bertie replied,
pride lacing his voice.

Francesca shook her head and caught Simon’s lips twitching.
“I swear to God, if this thing collapses at the end of the drive, I
won’t be held accountable for the mess it makes.”

“
Archie has checked it over. It will get you there,” Simon
replied gently, placing a hand on her waist to stop her when she
moved to climb aboard. “Just stay in Padstow until Hugo gives you
the nod to return.”

When
Francesca didn’t reply, he placed one blunt finger beneath her chin
and tipped her face toward him. “I mean it, Francesca, stay in
Padstow until you are told it is safe.”

Francesca eased her chin out of his hold and stared at him,
trying desperately to commit his face to memory. She wasn’t sure if
she would ever see it again, and that hurt more than she could
bear. Despite the presence of the others, she drew his head down
for one last kiss before releasing her hold and climbing inside.
She had no sooner taken a seat than the door was closed and the
carriage rumbled into motion.

She
didn’t look back. She couldn’t.

Tears
slowly trickled down her face.

“
I hate bracken,” Simon grumbled softly, fighting the urge to
flick a particularly itchy spot on his back caused by the constant
scratching of the rough weed. He seemed to have spent most of his
time living in Much Hampton lying in bracken and thinking about
Francesca. His heart clenched at the misery clearly etched on her
face when she had left. Although he was somewhat mollified by the
kiss she gave him, he knew she was still disappointed that she had
to go.

“
She’ll be alright,” Archie whispered, sensing Simon’s
thoughts.

Simon
merely glanced at him.

“
Take a word of advice?” he asked after several moments of
watchful silence.

“
What?” Simon asked, wondering if Archie was going to expand on
the conversation.

“
Marry her,” his friend advised. “It’s working for Hugo. If he
can make it work there is no reason why you can’t.”

“
But I can’t just walk out of the operation,” Simon
said.

“
You’ve done your fair share. We aren’t indispensable. When we
go, there will be twice as many men ready and waiting to take our
places. I don’t know about you but I am getting fed up with
sleepless nights, lies and subterfuge while the rest of the country
goes about their lives. I think it is about time we had our chance,
don’t you?”

“
Could you really settle down to a life of domesticity after
what we have been doing over the past few years?”

“
You mean experience the happiness Hugo is revelling in? Going
home to a pretty wife, a nice warm bed, and a beautiful home to
call my own?” Archie wondered if Simon was a penny short of a full
pot. “Course I bloody would. Turn my back on all of this in a
heartbeat, and so should you.”

Archie’s
words were the last thing Simon had expected to hear. As far as he
had been aware, everyone within the Star Elite was thoroughly
dedicated to their job. He had known that they worked as a team,
and they had all taken their turn on night watch, adopting
disguises and the like in order to support each other. He had
simply assumed they had all had the same attitude toward what they
did. He had been so wrapped up in his own misery that he had failed
to see other people’s discontent.