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Farley could see they were greatly dissatisfied. He held up his hands and shook his head at them, “Thinking ye can do better without me? Go on then…go…do better.”
The men started shouting at one another, settled down and grumbled that they didn’t think they could.
“Right ye are. Ye are nothing without me and my planning, and me…Oi got a plan,” Farley said.
“Whot plan? Maybe it’s time we signed on with the gentlemen…and hit the seas. There is always some money to be had in that quarter.”
“Go on then, clunch. Reckon ye be ready for the brine? Oi’m thinking none of ye be sailors.” Farley scoffed at them and drank down his ale before leveling an eye at them one and all. “Oi gots a plan and never ye mind asking whot it is.”
“Whot ye be wanting us to do in the meantime?” asked a quiet man eyeing him thoughtfully.
“Ally, me man, ye’ve always trusted me. Oi wants me boys to lay low and Oi’m looking to ye to see to it that is whot they does.”
They agreed to it and he sat back and watched them rise and shuffle out of the inn. He had in fact, not been bluffing as some of his men thought. He had a plan and it centered around Star Berkley, the young lord’s sister.
In fact, he knew it hadn’t been any male relative of Vern’s that night in the inn. He knew the only relative that resembled him in the immediate area was his sister. Aye then, she had dressed up like a lad and passed herself off as a cousin—fine. He couldn’t prove otherwise, but he still meant to use it as far as he could. He hadn’t worked out all the details in his head, but he meant to and soon.
* * *
Star looked out the window as she finished cleaning the morning room. She wiped her hands on her apron and looked out on the large panoramic view which encompassed the long winding front drive. The day was bright and sunny and Star was restless.
Just after Georgie had left some hours ago, she had looked in on Vern, who she was pleased to find was feeling much better. He was, however, in a horrible mood, foretelling a future of doom and gloom and she had hurriedly left him saying she would look in on him later.
It was time she headed to the stables, she told herself. What she needed was a ride. What did it matter if there was more dusting to do? It would be there when she returned. She took off her apron and picked up her kid gloves from the round table in the central hall and out she went.
It was a warm day, so she didn’t bother with a hat as she went outdoors and took a long gulp of the lovely fresh air. A short walk brought her to the barn where she found Jeffries mucking out a stall.
He stopped and smiled at her, “Well now, Miss Star, it looks to me like ye be wanting to ride. Shall I fetch Butch for ye?”
“No, no, I’ll get him.” This would be good for her, she thought. Perhaps maybe a ride would wipe away all thoughts of Sir Edward and his damnable kisses. Perhaps.
She found her chestnut gelding in the nearby pasture and he snorted when he saw her. She laughed and took up a bucket of grain to coax him to her. It worked, he came trotting happily up to her and took a mouthful from the bucket while she hooked up a lead line to his halter and led him out of the gate to the hitching post where she had left her tack.
A few moments later with bridle and saddle in place, she hoisted herself up, patted Butch’s fine neck and smiled to see his ears twitch as she spoke to him, “Right, let’s wind it and forget all about Sir Edward, eh?”
She walked him sedately for a moment across the pasture and easily trotted up to the line fence taking him over lightly and easily. He landed perfectly as he enjoyed jumping and was good at it. “Now, boy…now,” she said and squeezed him into an easy canter.
The breeze against her cheeks felt wonderful and she laughed right out loud, as riding was one of her favorite activities. Feeling the strength of her horse, and his willingness to please gave her joy as she put turf behind her and marked a trail toward nowhere in particular.
She made her mind a blank, or so she thought, until she gazed around and frowned. She pulled a face and said aloud, “Star, what have you done?” She had ridden toward the Stamford estate. It was of course, an easy thing to do as his land bordered hers, but she could have just as easily gone in the opposite direction.
Indeed, had she come this way purposely? Was she that far gone already? Her frenzied night had left her uncertain and confused.
What did she really feel? Was it lust? He certainly made her want more, so much more than a peck on the lips. His tongue melding with her own had set her on fire. His touch—his expert touch on her breast, the way he moved her against him. It made her want him to explore her in ways she should reserve for a husband. A husband. She wanted Sir Edward to bear that title.
He made her wonder about what it would be like to watch him touch her. She wanted him to look at her, openly admire her—all of her, without clothes between them.
Had he simply been dallying with her? Had he been bored and found her nothing but a diversion? He could seduce any woman he chose. He had the charm, the looks, and the style of a mesmerizing rogue. Was that all he had done—dallied with her? Did it mean nothing to him? No doubt he forgot the feel of her in his arms as soon as he left her.
Was that it? Had he been seducing a willing woman? She had been willing, so very willing. Did she want him more than she wanted respectability?
At first, alone in her room, remembering the look in his eyes, the curv
e of his luscious mouth, she had believed otherwise. She had for some moments after their intimacy, after he had left her, convinced herself that he did indeed feel something for her. Now, in the light of day, she was no longer so sure.
Perhaps she was projecting her own feelings onto him?
What—just what was she going to do? He hadn’t come to Rye to become involved with a country Miss who looked more roughneck than woman. She was a pauper, though her name was old and aristocratic, she had no dowry. He could have anyone. Why would he want her?
