Nicholas felt that his safest course of action was to continue on his way. Since the soldiers were on horseback, it was very unlikely that they would follow him over the rocks, but he would feel more at ease if the distance between him and them was somewhat greater. To proceed was the safest course for him in one way. In another way he was walking into another danger. He had no wish to be alone with Katherine, and especially not in these particular surroundings. He felt rather proud of his acting skills in her presence so far. But still, a man was only human, he thought ruefully.
She came out of the cave as he was jumping down from the rocks onto the sand. She glared at him, not even pretending politeness.
“You quite put me to shame, Mrs. Mannering,” he called, managing to inject some sort of a sigh into his voice even though he had to raise its volume. “You and all the others. Such energy! Scrambling over sand and rocks just like children. I thought it incumbent upon me to come and offer my assistance on your return journey.”
“There was really no need whatsoever for you to come, sir,” she said as he wandered toward her across the beach. “Sometimes one appreciates a few minutes of solitude. I find my own company quite congenial enough, thank you very much.”
“More congenial than mine,” he said with a drawl, raising one cynical eyebrow. “I quite understand, ma’am, that you intend that remark as a setdown. Unfortunately I have been brought up to believe, in my code of ethics, that courtesy to a lady should be next only to loyalty to the king and devotion to God. I cannot retaliate.”
“Hm,” she said, injecting a world of scorn into the syllable.
“What a very quaint little beach,” he said, looking around him and feeling for the ribbon of his quizzing glass, forgetting for the moment that he was not wearing it with his riding clothes. “A wonderful retreat for a lover of solitude, I grant you, Mrs. Mannering. Is that a cave behind you? Is it large?”
She stepped across to block the entry. “It is nothing,” she said. “A mere declivity in the rock. Disappointing, I assure you.”
Nicholas was heartened. If she did not wish him to see inside the cave, she must feel that her memories of it were too great a treasure to share with someone of Sir Harry’s caliber. He glanced up the cliff path and felt his stomach lurch rather uncomfortably at sight of a pair of soldiers in conversation at the top and clearly in danger of descending the path. Would it be safe to return across the rocks immediately? Would he be able to pretend not to have heard them if they hailed him? Would the other two soldiers have left the main beach?
Sir Harry Tate decided he must be his usual insensitive self. “I shall see for myself,” he said, strolling still closer to Kate, whose lips thinned when she realized his intention. “Perhaps we can discover a secret passage leading to a smugglers’ hideout or to some spectacular display of stalagmites and stalactites. Would that not be romantic?”
“I do assure you,” she said, “that there is nothing.” The soldiers were definitely coming down the path. It was very possible that they had seen him already too, though they were not yet close enough to recognize him.
He walked inside the cave, taking Kate by the hand as he passed her.
“Come, Mrs. Mannering,” he said, “I do believe you are a coward and have merely pretended to explore. Are you afraid of dark places? You need not be, you know. I shall keep my hold of your hand.”
“You will release me immediately,” she said, pulling indignantly at her hand. “I do not choose to be led where I have no wish to go, sir, like a child.”
“Now, you are not afraid of me, Mrs. Mannering, are you?” he said with a sigh. “Has it just occurred to you that you are all alone with me here? But you are wrong in that too. There are two soldiers of the coast guard at this moment on their way down from the top of the cliff. They are making a routine check of the area, doubtless, thinking that by patrolling by day they will prevent smuggling or other atrocities by night.”
“The coast guard?” Kate said nervously, though she could not think why she should fear them at this precise moment. Nicholas was long gone, and the smuggled goods were safely stowed in Mr. Evans’ cottage.
“Your reputation could suffer irreparable damage at being found in here alone with me,” he said with that sneer that she hated. “Of course, mine will suffer no lesser fate. And I hate to be considered a womanizer, as I have mentioned before.” Sir Harry sighed. Nicholas Seyton was listening with almost every pore of his body. His timing was going to have to be just right. He gave her an arctic smile. “Shall we disguise our identity from them, Mrs. Mannering?”
“There are footprints in the sand,” one male voice said from outside the cave.
“Leading into that cave,” another voice said.
Sir Harry pulled Kate toward him, his arms going around her, imprisoning her hands against his chest. She was looking up at him, eyes widening with surprise and indignation when he lowered his mouth to hers. One of his hands came up to hold her firmly behind her head below the little velvet hat so that she could not pull away. His mouth was closed but effectively covered her lips.
“Two of them,” the first voice said. “And none coming out again, though there is a mess of prints just here.”
They would be at the opening to the cave by now. Nicholas had his back to them. He slid his hands lasciviously over Kate’s body, moved his lips, still closed, over hers, and made sounds of appreciation in his throat. Somehow he had allowed her arms to escape his hold. They came around him, and her body arched toward his and molded herself against him. Her mouth trembled beneath his.
“Oh, I say!” a voice said from behind Nicholas. And then an embarrassed cough. “Er, pardon me. Let’s go, Conlin.”
“What?” Conlin asked, sounding rather bewildered.
“Just a gentleman and his wench,” the other voice said, hushed.
There was no further sound from outside the cave.
When it seemed that there was no longer any danger of having to face the soldiers, Nicholas was finally at leisure to feel surprise that Kate had not pulled away from him. She was still arched into him, her arms around his waist, her lips soft beneath his own. He could feel the heat of her pliant body against his own. She knew! Did she know? And for the first time he was fully aware of her body against his, her mouth beneath his own. He allowed himself the full luxury of feeling for a few final seconds. Did she know?
Sir Harry Tate lifted his head slowly and looked cynically down at Kate, his eyes half-closed, one eyebrow raised, his lips curled in a sneer. “Well, Mrs. Mannering,” he said, watching the dazed, vulnerable look on her flushed face begin to give place to awareness, “I believe we have saved each other’s reputations. I don’t think we need prolong the agony. Do you?”
“What?” she said vaguely. And then full awareness had returned. “What exactly was the meaning of that, sir? You were saving my reputation? By behaving in that insulting manner? Did I say I was afraid to be seen by a couple of soldiers, sir? Let them think what they will. It matters not to me if they know my identity. I do not believe you had a care for my good name, sir. I believe you used the occasion for the gratification of your own desires.”
She was bristling with indignation, he could see, her face still flushed, her eyes flashing, her hands in fists at her sides.
