Page 25 of The Smuggler’s Escape

When he returned, Johnny said, “That depends on her, doesn’t it? Mayhap she’s hoping for a man with some manners. Some kindness in his heart. Some loyalty. Some love to go along with the lust.”

Richard picked up the other two sets of tubs. “All her promiscuous kissing has brought her is a reputation that I’m obliged to salvage. If I didn’t love her, I wouldn’t waste my time.” He stomped away.

“There’s no more room in the wall of the dovecote,” Johnny said when Richard returned. The tinker sounded exhausted, and when Richard offered him a nip of brandy from the flask in his pocket, he took a substantial swig and said, “There should be some wheelbarrows off to your right. You can hide the tubs in there and empty a couple of flowerpots over them, then cover them with clippings from the pile in the corner, but you’ll have to get them out of there first thing tomorrow.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Richard said.

“Not when it comes to that colleen, you don’t.” He tossed back another swig of brandy.

Richard said nothing as he unloaded the remaining tubs from Charger, burning with the realization that Johnny was right. Why did Noelle oppose Richard’s every word, while she went meekly home when Johnny said so?

“If you don’t want her seeking out some other man for comfort, you’d best not send her to bed weeping.”

“What? I didn’t!”

“She’s crying herself to sleep tonight, poor lass.”

“How can you possibly know that?” But he didn’t expect an answer. There was something uncanny about the tinker and always had been. Which was fine—most of the time.

“If she says she won’t marry you, she has a good reason for it. Mayhap you should find out what that is,” Johnny said. “That road, you may get her kisses and more.”

Not when I’ve sworn off kissing and mauling. What had possessed him to make such a lunatic promise?

“I’m not complaining, mind you,” Johnny said. “I’ll take a thank-you kiss from her any day.”

“She says she can’t even consider marrying me.” A ghastly thought occurred: what if she were with child by some other man? Harry Walsh’s? I’ll kill him.

“Tsk,” Johnny said. “She’s not with child.”

“How do you know?” Again, a question that would never get an answer. “Stop reading my mind.” He stomped away, secreted the tubs inside the garden, and returned.

Johnny was slumped across the big beast’s neck. “No need to read anything. Your thoughts are as clear as the daylight.”

And if he wasn’t an idiot, he would have remembered Harry’s bet. She couldn’t be carrying his child, if he hadn’t even been under her skirts.

“She’s a woman like any other,” Johnny said. “She wouldn’t be crying herself to sleep if she didn’t care about you.”

Richard controlled the urge to snarl again. Noelle wasn’t like other women. She was uncomplicated. Straightforward and easy to talk to.

Or she used to be.

Johnny’s speech came out slow and weary. “Better get what you can from this situation. She can’t refuse to talk to you while you’re helping her deliver the goods.”

Richard nodded glumly. “I’ll try. She’s not much fun anymore.”

Johnny opened his eyes again. “I’ll lay odds you told her so, you inconsiderate young fool.”

“I always speak my mind with Noelle. That’s why I like her.” He knew he was acting like a sulky adolescent, but he didn’t care. “She’s not herself, and it’s no fun at all.”

“Damn, my leg is on fire.” Johnny took another swallow of brandy and handed Richard the empty flask. “Is fun all you ever think about?”

By the time Richard returned from hiding the remaining tubs, Johnny was asleep across the draft horse’s neck. Either that, or he’d passed out from drink. Richard rode slowly home, leading Johnny’s horse while Spot ranged alongside.

The protracted ride gave him plenty of time to contemplate with serious misgivings the prospect of talking to Noelle. Of convincing her that he wasn’t a brute who would ruin a lady and abandon her. Of inducing her to confide in him without confiding his own secrets in return. Of not hurting her feelings and sending her away in tears.

By the time he handed Johnny Magee into the not-so-tender care of his valet and took himself off to bed, he had come to a reluctant conclusion.

It seemed he would have to be considerate. And polite. And unfailingly proper.

A charming suitor, devoted to winning his lady’s heart.

While he saved her from the excisemen, the hangman, and God only knew what else.

That last thought cheered him. With luck, he would vent some of his frustrations on Captain Hale.