Chapter Sixteen
‘Do you want to tell me what the blazes is going on?’
After an hour of trailing after her and watching her alternate between simpering up at the windbag and scowling at Seb as if he were the Devil incarnate, enough was enough. Fortunately, Gem was an atrocious rider and Lady Olivia had finally enticed said windbag to gallop ahead with her to admire the sea view. Clarissa had tried to go after them and made such a hash of it she began to list in her sidesaddle and had to slow down to adjust her seat. Something she was failing at spectacularly.
‘Let go of my reins!’ She was glaring down her nose at him. The silly little hat which matched her impractical and too-tight blue-velvet riding habit was hanging precariously just above her ear. How typical of her to choose her outfit based solely on aesthetics. It was obvious her corset was laced too tight to allow her to squeeze into the garment. A garment doubtless designed to catch her fickle Duke’s eye. Perhaps that fool hadn’t noticed how magnificently she filled it. Unfortunately, Seb’s entire body had noticed. Even half-hanging from a horse and furious she was a sight for sore eyes.
‘I need to speak to you.’ And he was damned if he was going to chase her again. Watching that delectable bottom bounce in her saddle was killing him. Clenching the leather tightly in one fist, he nudged his own horse towards a small cluster of trees. They weren’t much, but at least they would afford them some privacy from the rest of the group who were still none the wiser the pair of them were no longer following.
Seb still refused to release the reins as he dismounted. Leading her horse towards some low branches and securing them tightly, he held out his arms to help her down to the ground. She ignored them, folded hers across her pert chest and turned her head away like a petulant child. ‘I am perfectly capable of getting down myself!’
‘Go on then.’
This he had to see. That inappropriate habit hugged her like a second skin, the corset held her upper body rigid and the sidesaddle, with her in it, was slowly slipping further down the horse’s back. Seb took himself to lean against the tree trunk and folded his own arms to watch. She twisted to lay her upper body across the horse’s neck and began to slither down with her back to him, but then shrieked when her ridiculous skirt caught on the pommel. He took a step forward and she hissed like a cat, ‘Stay back! I do not want your grubby hands on my body!’
‘My grubby hands?’
‘Yes. I know where they have been!’
‘I’m sorry?’ It was hard to remain stalwartly affronted when gravity and the pommel had left her part suspended from the ground. The toes of one foot had hit terra firma, her other leg dangled suspended at her side while the silly skirt was rucked up to show two shapely silk-clad calves and the taut fabric revealed two perfectly formed buttock cheeks. She started to wriggle as she wrestled with the trapped fabric and Seb found himself simultaneously aroused and amused by the sight. Something had made her lose her temper and she was clearly fuming. At him. Best to get it over with, whatever it was. ‘Speak in plain English, Gem, and tell me what grievous crime I am supposed to have committed.’
‘There is no supposed about it! Admit it! You spent the night in...in...’
‘A brothel?’
‘There is no need to sound so smug about it. I know what goes on in those places.’
‘You do?’ And more importantly why was she angry about it?
‘Yes, I know! Gray might have only hinted at the sorts of unspeakable things you were engaged in out of politeness, but believe me, I see nothing noble in your sacrifice forKingandcountry! It’s disgusting. You’re disgusting!’
Whilst still not entirely sure quite why she was snarling, but certain that his subordinate had had a hand in it, Seb decided to placate her while he extricated her. Watching that spectacular body jiggling in front of him was giving him all manner of unspeakable ideas. ‘Gray likes to amuse himself by elaborating on the truth. Hold still and let me untangle you.’ Necessity meant he had to wrap his hands around her waist to reach the pommel. She instantly stiffened at the contact, standing on one leg like an outraged statue in the cage of his arms, the pert peach of a bottom which had taunted him moments ago just inches from his aching groin.
‘I suppose you deny doing yourduty?’
‘I suppose that depends of what you mean by duty.’
As the fabric finally gave, she immediately spun around to face him, her blue eyes stormier than any eyes he had ever seen before. Her finger came up and prodded him hard in the chest. ‘You allowed a harlot to play your flute!’
The bark of laughter earned him a firm shove, but he couldn’t stop even when she marched away and stood incandescent with rage. ‘I don’t see what is so funny.’
‘Let me get this straight. You are of the belief that I spent the entire night consorting with harlots.’ She sniffed in response and looked away again, her arms folded tightly across her chest. ‘That is partly true. There were harlots and technically I did spend the night with one.’
Her eyes widened in outrage, causing Seb to laugh again and raise his palms in surrender. ‘But no consorting of any sort went on and certainly nomusicalrenditions took place. If you want to know all the ugly details, I picked a young girl who looked more terrified than me, had her take me to her room where we proceeded to spend the night discussing how she came to find herself in a bawdy house in Sussex.’ He risked taking a few steps forward. ‘It was a tragic tale. She had run away from home to escape a drunken father and then fallen on hard times. Last night was her first night as a harlot and, thankfully, it was her last. I gave her enough money to see her right for a few weeks and if she has any sense, she will have met one of my men on the roadside this morning as we arranged and will already be winging her way to London where Lord Fennimore will find her some suitable employment. Penhurst’s French mistress isn’t French, by the way. She is the owner of the brothel he dragged me to. None of the girls are French and none go by the name Jessamine. Our debauched viscount and his cronies are regulars at the establishment and they took me there as a test. One I am very pleased to say I passed because, like you, they assumed the worst was going on behind those bedchamber doors.’
The stormy expression had now softened to one of relief—but what did that mean? All his instincts told Seb she was jealous. His head wanted to dismiss that futile hope as preposterous. Should he ask her? No. Definitely not. He would combust with embarrassment and shame when she denied it. Then he would still be incarcerated at this blasted house party and forced to suffer for days. ‘On the way home, he suggested he might be able to involve me in an investment opportunity which guaranteed me high returns, but might not be strictly legal. He declined to elaborate, but I’m making progress, Gem.’
‘That’s good.’ She was subdued, but no longer angry.
‘On a separate note, whilst we are none the wiser as to who the elusive Jessamine might be, Gray did find out about theEspérance de Dieu. Look.’ Seb took out the information his Invisibles had been given by the Excise Men and passed it to her to read, only to have the paper swatted away.
‘Just tell me.’
‘You were right—itisa ship. A merchant ship which is part of a small but specialised fleet shuttling the finest port from sunny Portugal to the major shipping destinations across Europe. It makes regular stops in Bilbao and Cherbourg, where I’ll wager those boats get loaded with our free traders’ French brandy before they sail on to Portsmouth. Before which I assume they take a little detour along the Sussex coast to offload the illegal portion of their cargoes right here first.
She still couldn’t meet his eye. ‘I take it they didn’t attempt to offload last night.’
‘No. But when they do I’ll be there to meet them.’
