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BOOK: Wendy Soliman
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By a supreme effort of will, he broke their scorching kiss. Saskia, looking dazed, traced the outline of his cheek with her gloved fingers. He gently removed them and kissed each one in turn, still gripped by the fierce passion running riot through his bloodstream. With his tongue he traced the line of her tears, still wet upon her cheeks, until they were all gone. She shuddered and offered him a tremulous smile.

“You have a strange way of offering comfort.”

“I did warn you before about my tongue.” His smile was a provocative challenge.

“That you did.”

He forgot about self-control and kissed her again, more possessively still, forcing her lips apart with his tongue, gently at first but then more assertively, demanding and receiving complete capitulation.

“Still not good enough?” he asked in mock irritation.

She shook her head in brazen denial.

“I see. Well now, Mrs. Eden, you may as well know that I don’t take criticism well.”

He set about proving it, convinced by the time he reluctantly released her that she had, at least for the time being, forgotten all about her terrifying confrontation with her father.

When he took up the ribbons again he was in a reflective frame of mind. He’d forgotten that such an achingly acute degree of desire was possible, and was tormented to the point of insanity by the blatant need he could observe in her eyes. He didn’t trust himself to remain alone with her for one moment longer.

Chapter Eleven

F
ELIX
S
ENT
W
ORD
T
O
L
UC
that Saskia’s departure with the twins would be delayed by one day, confident that he’d make no objection to postponing his own departure accordingly.

As Saskia, looking breathtakingly beautiful in her new turquoise gown, entered her father’s drawing room that evening for the first time in six years, Felix could only guess at the conflicting emotions she was experiencing. Her features were arranged in an impenetrable mask, and it was impossible for him to detect her true feelings. He was proud of her air of composure, well aware what effort of will it had taken her just to walk into the room.

A man, obviously Barker, stepped forward and took his daughter’s hand.

“Saskia, my dear, you’ve come.” He studied her for what seemed like an eternity. “You really are here.”

“Good evening, Father. May I present Mr. Beaumont?”

The gentlemen had barely shaken hands before Saskia’s older brother, Charles, stepped forward. He mumbled something incoherent beneath breath which already smelt strongly of liquor, and placed an awkward kiss on his sister’s cheek. Gerald was far less circumspect, and expressed genuine pleasure at seeing her. Saskia returned his warm embrace without reservation, just as she did that of his wife, Harriet.

Another lady then approached, blonde hair piled high and watery blue-eyes sparkling from a pretty face. Her body was veering toward heaviness. She was wearing an embroidered white lawn gown, a colour which didn’t suite her pale complexion and did little to conceal the plumpness of her figure. The bodice was cut so low as to leave little to the imagination, and her face was heavily coated with powder.

Elsbeth, for it was she, pointedly ignored Saskia, and reserved all of her attention for Felix, casting a look of unadulterated lust in his direction. Observing, her, her husband snorted and reached for the decanter.

Felix fell into conversation with Saskia’s father, taking every opportunity to name his aristocratic patrons and incorporating such salacious
on-dits
into the conversation as he thought appropriate, intent upon impressing Barker with the depth of his social connections.

Saskia was deep in conversation with her younger brother and his wife, so when Barker excused himself to talk to his steward, Felix was left to Elsbeth’s tender mercies. He would never touch such a woman in a thousand years, but no one would have guessed as much from his responses to her flirtatious overtures. Barker returned to the room accompanied by a man whom Felix recognised as Johnson, Barker’s steward. Saskia noticed him, also, and tensed when Johnson, with almost indecent haste, rushed to her side. She flinched at the touch of his hand, and every bone in Felix’s body ached to rescue her…but he couldn’t intercede, at least not yet. Barker was carefully observing him, and Felix needed to concentrate his efforts on tempting the man to fall in with his scheme. Even so, he cursed his lack of sensitivity in embroiling Saskia in a situation she abhorred. Whatever the outcome this evening, she wouldn’t be subjected to such torture a second time. The sooner she was safely ensconced at Western Hall, out of harm’s way, the better he would feel.

Dinner was announced, which meant Saskia was rescued from Johnson only to be replaced by her father, who offered her his arm. Felix forced himself to do likewise with Elsbeth; sitting directly across from Saskia, he played his part and blatantly flirted with the wretched girl for the duration of the meal.

Felix knew Barker wouldn’t talk about business before the ladies withdrew, but was surprised when he didn’t immediately do so over the port. Instead, he allowed the conversation to flow, but remained mostly silent himself. Felix began to wonder whether he’d underestimated the man, when he became the exclusive target of Barker’s exacting scrutiny. It was almost as if he was trying to fathom his true purpose. He would have given much, at that moment, to be privy to his thoughts.

When they rejoined the ladies, Barker asked his daughter to play for him. Saskia inclined her head and sat at the instrument.

“It is a long time since I last heard music of such quality in this room,” he observed at the end of her performance.

“Absolutely!” Gerald smiled fondly at his sister.

Elsbeth sulked when Felix ignored her attempts to flirt with him and joined in the praise being heaped upon Saskia.

“Come with me, Beaumont,” Barker said, rising abruptly. Johnson followed them into Barker’s library.

“Now, you have something you wish to discuss with me.”

“Indeed I do.” Felix settled himself more comfortably into a deep armchair, arranging his limbs in a relaxed pose. “I have the honour to represent the Marquis Rydon. He requires certain commodities that I understand you might be in a position to supply.”

Barker raised a brow. “Indeed, and what might they be?”

Felix named the usual merchandise: ankers of brandy, barrels of wine, tobacco, and silk, all in large enough quantities to cause Barker to raise one eyebrow.

“But why come to me for such mundane merchandise? Presumably these things are readily available in Bristol to one as well connected as the Marquis?”

“Because, sir, the marchioness has developed a fancy for a rather more, eh, exotic commodity which I believe only you are in a position to supply her with.”

“And what would that be?”

“Two Negro footmen.”

Barker and Johnson exchanged a significant glance. “And what makes you imagine I could be of service to her ladyship in that respect?”

“Oh come now, Barker, I make it my business to know such things.”

“Then you’re losing your touch. You’ve had a wasted journey, since I’m unable to assist you.”

Felix would have been surprised if he’d said anything else, and simply shrugged his regret. “Not wasted, sir, I do assure you, for I’ve had the good fortune to make your daughter’s acquaintance.” Felix spoke casually, making the statement sound deliberately suggestive. Johnson bunched his fists and took a step toward him, but Barker halted him with a gesture.

“You will return to Bristol at once then?”

“I might dally here for a day or two longer,” he drawled, his eyes on the closed door to the drawing room. Johnson growled, but was obviously a well-trained henchman, because he didn’t move this time. “Pity you’re not up to satisfying her ladyship’s whim,” Felix continued. “She was most put out to discover that Lady Ballyman has a black retainer, and is quite determined to outdo her by securing two of her own. She would probably have included you in one of her entertainments at Rydon Hall to demonstrate her gratitude. No matter.” Felix shrugged and made to leave the room. “Thank you for your hospitality, sir. I’ll continue with my enquiries elsewhere.”

Felix sensed that the prospect of an invitation to Rydon Hall had succeeded, where all his other enticements had failed.

“Not so fast, sir.”

Felix paused, hand on the door handle, and turned back to face Barker.

“It’s possible that I could direct you to the person whom you seek. Pray, remain at my sister’s house for a few days more, and I’ll be in touch.”

Felix inclined his head and left the room, smiling in satisfaction only when the door had shut safely behind him. He and Saskia were preparing to take their leave a short time later when Saskia’s father took her to one side.

“Well, Saskia, I’ve kept my side of the bargain and entertained your Mr. Beaumont. Now it’s your turn. When can I expect to see my grandchildren?”

“You must be patient for a week or two longer.” Saskia and Felix had decided it would be better if he learned of her impending departure from her own lips. He would certainly hear of it from Fothergill, and if she hadn’t mentioned it herself it would appear strange.

“Why?” The one word was spoken with irritation, belying the attitude of the forgiving parent he’d been striving to project that evening.

“Aunt Serena is arranging for us to visit Mrs. James in Norfolk. She’s been unwell, and has expressed a desire to see the children again.”

Saskia watched her father’s face as he battled with his natural instincts to forbid the visit, finally offering to place one of his own conveyances at her disposal.

“So much more comfortable than travelling post,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, finality in her tone, “but I believe Aunt Serena has already made the necessary arrangements.”

Nothing further detained them, and Felix drove away from Southview Manor at a rapid pace, pulling up in the same place as the previous afternoon. Saskia, seated beside him, was unable to stop trembling. Felix took her in his arms, sensing that tears were close. Sure enough they soon spilled from her eyes and ran down her face in rivulets, soaking her pelisse and Felix’s handkerchief into the bargain.

“I’m so proud of you,” Felix told her, as he stroked her back with long soothing sweeps of his hand. “You were magnificent.”

“God, how I hate him!”

“Yes, but you didn’t allow him to see your fear. That confused him and left him wondering what he must do to persuade you back to him. He’s never seen you in such a light before.”

“How do you know?” Saskia sniffed and tried to pull away from him. It did her no good though. His arms held her in a vice-like grip, and her struggles made not the slightest impression upon him. “You hardly looked away from Elsbeth all evening.”

“Do you not understand why?”

“Because you found her rather obvious sort of charm compelling, I suppose.”

“Grant me a little more taste than that.” Felix squeezed her shoulders. “I paid court to her because it was what your father expected me to do.”

She tossed her head. “Ah, that would explain it then.”

“Indeed it would.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Put yourself in his position. He wants you back, and sees conducting business with me as a way to achieve your gratitude. If he thought I was as serious about you as you’ve pretended to be about me, then he wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“You should have said,” she said, turning away from him.

Felix’s only response was to kiss her. Hard and deeply.

“I thought you realized.” he said.

“So that’s why you patted Elsbeth on her — ” Saskia blushed. “Well, you know where you patted her.”

“Why else would I do such a thing?”

“You’d know more about that than me.”

“Well, I thought it was a rather convincing touch. Your father noticed, of course, and roared with laughter.”

She sniffed. “Yes, thank you, I observed more than enough of your loutish behaviour.”

“Then perhaps it’s time you discovered how gentlemanly I can behave when the situation calls for it.”

He kissed her again, passionately, delighted when she responded with enthusiasm, twining her fingers through his hair and pressing herself against him as though it was the most natural thing in the world for her to enter into a clandestine affair with a man she hardly knew. Felix knew it was not, and that passion had, at least temporarily, overcome reason. He broke the kiss before he, too, lost control, but by the time they entered the kitchen at Riverside House again, Felix had the satisfaction of knowing that she was no longer out of charity with him.

Perkins awaited them there. Saskia immediately excused herself in order to check on the twins.

“What do you want, Perkins?” Felix asked.

“Message from his lordship. He wants me to report back to him on your progress tonight and wants to know what time to expect Mrs. Eden and her children tomorrow.”

“I see.”

“Oh, and one other thing. I popped into the Swyre Inn tonight. Fothergill was there, high as a kite and in great spirits because Mrs. Eden had gone to have dinner with her father. He was so happy that he even appeared unconcerned that you’d accompanied her. Well, I decided it was too good an opportunity to miss, so I fell into conversation with him, keeping him well supplied with ale, naturally. When he was in his cups he confided that, in return for his loyalty, Barker has promised him — Fothergill that is — marriage to Mrs. Eden, once she returns to him.”

“The devil he has!”

Chapter Twelve

T
HE
F
OLLOWING
D
AY
W
AS
a Saturday, and as the children didn’t have lessons, it was Fothergill’s custom to sleep off the excesses of the week, missing breakfast altogether. Felix took advantage of his tardiness and drove Saskia and the children away from Riverside House very early. He hoped to deliver them into Luc’s care and return to Mrs. Rivers’s establishment before Fothergill was about and realized the part Felix had played in facilitating their departure.

The twins were full of excitement, still believing they were to visit Mrs. James, of whom they were fond. Even the superior surroundings of the Grand Hotel did little to diminish their enthusiasm or stay their constant stream of chatter. It was only when they entered Luc’s suite, and stared, open-mouthed, at the extravagant opulence, that they became temporarily subdued. Eyes as large as saucers, they stood hand-in-hand, rooted to the spot.

Felix made the introductions, and Josh, belatedly remembering his manners, executed an elegant bow. Saskia shot a speaking look Felix’s way. She probably realised that he’d given the lad a few pointers in exactly how to pay his respects. Surely she couldn’t take exception to that? Amy, without the benefit of superior example, managed a wobbly curtsey, almost dropping the squirming Hoskins in the process.

Without hesitation Clarissa dropped to her knees to address the children and exclaim over Hoskins. That was all it took for the twins to overcome their shyness.

“We’re twins — ”

“We’re six — ”

“This is our dog, Hoskins — ”

Felix and Luc watched Rosie and Luc’s dog, Mulligan, join the fray. The two little girls were drawn to one another almost immediately and joined hands, disappearing together to examine Rosie’s favourite dolls. Surely Saskia would take comfort from that? Mulligan and Hoskins were more circumspect, prowling around one another, hackles at half-mast. Josh turned to Felix with a martyred sigh.

“I’d better watch over them, Mr. Beaumont,” he said, pretending indifference as he hurried after the girls.

“Take good care of them for me, Luc,” Felix said sotto voce.

“Have I ever let you down?”

“No, but this is important to me.”

“I know,” his friend replied, softly.

Luc and Clarissa tactfully followed the children from the room, leaving Felix alone with Saskia. He wasted no time in pulling her into his arms.

“I’ll join you in a few short days.”

“Take great care. My father is dangerous and ruthless.” Her face was creased with concern. “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating him.”

“Don’t spare a thought for me. Smithers has the area swamped with his men, in readiness to act.”

“All the same — ”

“Saskia, I — ”

She looked up at him, clearly taken aback by his sharp tone. “What is it?”

“Well, what I…” He released her and fell to pacing. Then he came around, ending back beside her and pulling her to him, his inexorable need far from sated. “No, now’s not the time. But when I return to Western Hall we must have a serious discussion.”

“What about?”

One brow shot skywards. “You don’t know?”

“No, I — ”

There was a commotion behind them: Luc, making an unnecessary amount of noise as he approached. Felix didn’t trouble to remove his arm from around Saskia’s waist. Luc knew him too well to mind the indiscretion, and besides, he was not about to have her anywhere except in his arms until the last possible moment.

“The carriages are at the side door, Felix.”

This was Luc’s idea. Saskia and the children would enter Luc’s carriage, with the distinctive Newbury crest on its doors, at the side of the hotel, out of sight of curious passers-by. All too soon they’d done so: Luc, Clarissa, Saskia, three children, and two dogs in the first; a lady’s maid, valet, governess, and the luggage in the second. The procession moved off. Josh, Amy, and Rosie leaned from the window and waved madly at Felix. He raised his hand to them in salute, feeling suddenly very isolated and alone.

He shook off his wistful mood by reminding himself that Saskia and the twins were now safely out of Barker’s reach, a cause for celebration. When he saw them next, this thing would be resolved, one way or the other. He returned to his curricle and made the journey back to Riverside House, thinking of all the things he still had to do whilst he awaited Barker’s summons.

It came just two days later, in the form of a servant calling at Riverside House at eleven o’clock at night, asking Felix to accompany him. Mr. Barker had requested his immediate presence. Felix cursed beneath his breath. He’d expected to receive some notice from Barker, which he would have used to alert Smithers. But there was no help for it: if he declined to accompany Barker’s man now, without good reason for doing so, then it would raise suspicions. He’d just have to go with him and trust to luck that Smithers’s men were still alert enough to observe him being driven away. Either that or Perkins, of whom he had seen nothing for two days — a good sign surely, as it must indicate his acceptance into the gang — would somehow alert Smithers himself.

Felix was surprised by his early summons. He’d expected a longer wait. He, his father, and Smithers had carefully constructed his cover, using the Marquis Rydon’s name with that gentleman’s prior permission. They had assumed that Barker would check out Felix’s credentials before proceeding with such sensitive negotiations. Contacting the Marquis directly was clearly out of the question for someone of Barker’s lowly social status. Smithers suggested that Rydon should take his long-serving and completely trustworthy butler, as well as his equally faithful valet, into his confidence. Barker’s men would undoubtedly travel to Rydon Hall, on the outskirts of Bristol, and ask about at the local inn. Rydon’s valet or butler would take it in turns to be present, make themselves obvious to Barker’s emissaries, and drunkenly let slip their master’s intentions.

They couldn’t possibly have managed to do that in the two days that had elapsed since he’d dined with Barker. Did that mean that Barker was aware who Felix actually was, and that he was being led into a trap, or had his desire to improve his social standing caused him to become incautious? There again, perhaps he was simply obliging Felix in order to curry favour with his daughter. Felix had seen with his own eyes that Barker was desperate to have Saskia back under his roof, answerable only to him, so perhaps he was inventing problems where none existed.

Felix was driven by Barker’s surly minion not to Southview Manor, but direct to Burton Bradstock Bay. He alighted briskly when the conveyance came to a halt, and was greeted by Barker himself, along with Johnson, his son Charles, and a few more of Barker’s men. Felix was relieved to notice Perkins amongst their number, looking disconcertingly comfortable with his new employment.

“I apologise for the short notice, Beaumont,” Barker said, stepping forward and offering his hand, “but I unexpectedly found myself in a position to facilitate your unusual request, so didn’t suppose that you’d mind the inconvenience.”

“Not in the least. But where…?” He glanced about him.

“Over yonder.” Barker indicated several large vessels anchored off-shore.

“Ah, but of course.”

Felix cursed, inaudibly. He should have anticipated that any vessel containing such a sensitive cargo wouldn’t risk coming into port. The boat being anchored in the bay would make things extremely tricky for Smithers’s men, since it would be hard for them to approach it without being detected. Barker turned in the direction of a large wherry pulled up on the single beach.

“Shall we?”

Disguising his reluctance beneath an indolent pose, Felix inclined his head and followed Barker into the boat. His men then pushed into the shallow water before clambering in behind them. As Johnson took the tiller, Felix watched him impassively, wondering how the next hour would play out. For the first time since the start of this affair, he no longer felt in full control. Instinct told him that something about this business tonight wasn’t right, but it was too late now for him to turn back.

As Barker’s men applied themselves to rowing the wherry, Felix, fully alert, thought he detected a tension about them. There was an air of expectancy, an indefinable something about their attitude, which disconcerted him. But he dismissed his fears, blaming his own apprehension for his disquiet, and seeking reassurance in rational thought. With the exception of Perkins, all the men in the boat were totally loyal to Barker, armed to the teeth and, he was certain, more than ready to use their weapons. This knowledge did little to quell his concerns, especially since he was unarmed himself, but he could do little for the moment, other than to pray that Smithers and his men had him in their sights.

Silence prevailed within the wherry as the men put their backs into their rowing. The full moon, which had served Felix so well a week before when he’d dined al fresco with Saskia on the beach, was now on the wane. All the same, it still cast sufficient light for Felix to be able to make out Perkins’s reassuring outline, hunched over his oars. The sight reinforced his sense of purpose, as did the image of Saskia which sprang unbidden into his head. Barker was engaged in a despicable trade, which had to be stopped. He was also a tyrant and a bully. If Felix failed tonight, then Saskia and her children would eventually be forced to return to a life under his rapacious control. This thought served to strengthen his resolve. Saskia, the twins, Mrs. Rivers, his father — they were all depending upon him to put a stop to this evil business and bring Barker to justice. His own sense of duty, as well as an awareness of what he owed to them all, would not permit him to fail.

They had reached the side of a new and fast looking cutter, its name hidden in the darkness. A rope ladder was lowered, and Barker invited Felix to ascend first. He had no choice but to comply, and was relieved when the rest of the party followed him swiftly over the side. Felix could detect only two members of crew on deck, but had to assume that more were below. Barker was beside him once again and invited him, with a gesture, to precede him toward a companionway leading to the lower deck, and thence to a ladder descending toward the hold.

Felix hesitated for the first time, and looked enquiringly at Barker. Neither of them had spoken since leaving the shore, aware how acutely sound is amplified over water at night. Barker broke that silence now.

“The captain of the vessel can hardly display his cargo on the deck,” he said, an ironic twist to his lips.

“I see.”

Felix did see — far too well. Every bone in his body warned him not to enter that hold. His earlier feeling that all wasn’t well intensified tenfold, and his instincts screamed at him to find a way to avoid making a blind descent into the unknown. He searched his mind, frantically trying to come up with a plausible reason why he shouldn’t enter that hold, but his brain was as blank as a scrubbed slate and no form of salvation presented itself.

Barker and his men now stood behind him in a menacing semi-circle, shuffling their feet impatiently, and Felix realized that procrastination was a luxury no longer available to him. With every appearance of indifference, he placed his foot on the first rung of the ladder.

A dim light emanated from the gloomy space below him as he descended. That there was at least one lantern illuminating the space was Felix’s last conscious thought as his feet hit the deck and, simultaneously, something heavy hit the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

BOOK: Wendy Soliman
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