“My lord, I will escort you to the edge of the town. I suggest you do not return, as you have no business in this region.”
“You do not know my business,” Zachary countered as he argued now with the constable.
“You have no business.” Theo’s voice had an edge when the conversation began. Now it was purely deadly.
“Very well. For now. But this is hardly over. Pedrick will hang for attacking me. Your daughter’s reputation is mud, and I know what you’ve been doing, Sir Theodore. The secret is out, and you shall join Pedrick at the gallows. You will hang for treason.”
“And you have to make it out of Polruan. I think the odds are in my favor, my lord. Return and you shall find your fate is the same as your father’s.” Raj’s voice carried to Jemma, and she hadn’t realized her cousin was among the men.
A slamming door signaled the Earl’s departure before Theo stepped into the music room. He looked at his wife, then settled his attention on Jemma. He merely stood there, waiting for his daughter’s explanation. But he still, after twenty-three years, underestimated Jemma’s resolve.
“Jemma, I know Ben rode home with you. Raj told me while the magistrate amended the paperwork to end the warrant. I saw you leave together just before your cousin explained. If I hadn’t been busy with the bloody magistrate, I would have stopped you and insisted the four of us ride back together. Explain to me what happened.”
“The Earl stopped us. He had a dozen men with him, some with muskets. He spoke to us, making vulgar and insinuating comments, and tossed a coin at Ben to pay for a turn with me.”
“What?” Theo roared, spinning to the door.
“Theo, no.” Vinita stepped in front of him. “It will be you who the constable must arrest. Now is not the time.” She locked eyes with her husband of three decades. They communicated silently, and Theo relented. But she knew they had hardly settled the matter. It was more likely Zachary Windsor-Clive, Earl of Plymouth, would come to an untimely death before he arrived home to London.
“Father, Ben protected me. He kept the Earl and his men from getting to me and gave me a chance to run and hide. He fought Windsor-Clive, and that’s why he is so angry. Ben only had scratched knuckles. Once we were certain we were free of him, Ben brought me home and went to the summerhouse for the night.”
“What else happened?” Vinita's piercing stare tempted Jemma to confess to their kisses.
“Nothing.” Their kisses were far too private to share, and she feared it was her mother who would skelp Ben for their tryst if she admitted it happened. “He wanted to be away from the house in case the constable came looking and insisted upon searching the house. I don’t know what else happened.” It wasn’t all she knew, but it was what she would willingly share.
“If that’s the case, he must make it away from Lantic Bay in one piece.” Theo prayed Ben lived long enough marry his daughter. Zachary wouldn’t let this pass.
It was still dawn, the constable’s visit having come so early in the day, so Jemma figured Ben was likely still at the summerhouse. She switched her slippers to her boots and went to the stables. She knew she took her safety for granted, and last night proved it. But she would take one more risk. She needed to be certain Ben was safe since she was certain he hadn’t taken a direct route to the summerhouse, rather detouring to Lantic Bay first. She trusted Zachary not at all, and neither did she trust the constable. She knew him to be a man easily bought. That was likely how Ben made the man show up so early. She mounted her steed and squeezed her knees against the animal’s flanks. Shehadn’t made it off her family’s land before Ben stepped onto the path.
“Why are you riding alone, Jemma?” Ben knew he sounded demanding, but Zachary had only ridden past him a quarter-of-an-hour earlier. He’d remained on the edge of the Rowes’ land all night rather than go to the summerhouse, unconvinced Jemma was safe once he saw his nemesis ride up the drive. He deduced Zachary demanded their hospitality, and he could only imagine what he intended to do. Ben left only long enough to bribe the constable, dangling a pretty penny and a bolt of satin for his wife, to come round. Ben had slipped back into his hiding place as the portly man rode to the house.
“I was going to look for you,” Jemma gasped. “What are you doing here? You look like you haven’t slept.”
“I haven’t. I saw Zachary approach. I watched, and when he didn’t leave, I stayed. I couldn’t leave knowing he was under the same roof as you. I was away only long enough to summon the constable.”
“Did the Earl leave?” Jemma looked around, suddenly feeling vulnerable. If Ben hid so close to her home, perhaps Zachary did the same.
“Yes. He and the constable rode toward Lantic Bay together.”
“You should leave Polruan, shouldn’t you?”
“Probably, but I’m not leaving, Jemma. Not until I speak to your father.”
“Not now. He’s still upset about Windsor-Clive. It’s not that I think he’ll blame. He’s not going anywhere.” Ben pursed his lips, hating the reminder Zachary was under the same roof as Jemma. “I’m supposed to meet Margaret this morning to help with the candies. That was my excuse if anyone asked. We can ride to the village together.”
Ben heard the hope in her voice, and it warmed him. He stepped forward and lifted Jemma from the saddle. Hemaneuvered them, so their horses shielded them from anyone’s view. He cupped her face and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. She wrapped her arms around his waist and returned the sentiment, matching him when the kiss grew passionate. His hands slid down her back and cupped her backside, lifting her onto her toes. Their hips rocked together, both understanding the need they shared. They were panting by the time they pulled apart. He helped her back into the saddle before mounting his own steed. They cantered to the edge of town but stopped short by the sight that greeted them.
Zachary stood issuing orders to the very men who’d allegedly betrayed him, so it was clear he’d already deduced the constable had lied. There were also the half-dozen excisemen from the night before. Zachary gestured toward Grandma Smith’s home, then down to the beach. He even pointed toward Penhallow House, Lord Pencarrow’s estate. Kent Pentarth stepped outside his small public stables. He held his hammer in his hand, his beefy arms crossed. His massive blacksmith’s forearms rippled with muscle. Neither Jemma nor Ben could hear Kent, but it was clear he refused to allow anyone into his workshop or stables. Ben prayed Pentarth could deter the officials and the earl.
Ben whispered to Jemma. “I found out when I got here to summon the constable that Father and Steven sent a cartful of gunpowder. It’s stored in the cellar.” It was a space that could be accessed from outside or from within the blacksmith’s workshop.
Ben and Jemma watched Kent and Zachary argue for a moment before they crept along another path and arrived at The Cock and Bull. There was a secret tunnel behind a cupboard in the basement. Once Zachary left, it would allow them to enter the warren of tunnels and reach Ben’s concealed store of gunpowder. They waited outside the tavern, hidden in theshadows. Ben scanned their surroundings, ensuring no one spied them.
Certain they were alone, he opened his arms. She stepped into his embrace and shut her eyes as her head came to rest against his chest. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. It soothed her fraught nerves, and when he ran his hand over her back, she thought she might melt. Feeling more at ease, she tilted her head back and parted her lips. Ben eagerly accepted the invitation. The kiss blocked out the world around them until they heard a crash, a gasp, and a goose squawk.
“Lady Jemma,” Margaret blurted. Jemma’s friend stared wide-eyed at the couple, a basket of apples at her feet. Beside her was the local healer and midwife, Emily Trindle. The geese belonged to the viscount but frequently roamed the village green. The gaggle observed the couple as attentively as Margaret and Emily. Jemma might have been able to convince the women not to say anything about what they saw, but the commotion summoned Grandma Smith. The woman was in everyone’s business, not just that of the smugglers.
“Lady Jemma.” Grandma Smith sounded far more scandalized than Margaret. Jemma looked up at Ben, who wished he could shield her like he had last night. But the sun was up, and a larger crowd was gathering. “Your father and mother will not approve of your wantonness. This will never do.”
