“If not sleuthing, what other things have occupied your precious time?”
Fondness lit her eyes, and she inhaled, her breasts pushing against the fabric of her dress. “Seeing to the tenants, of course. We have a small home farm that Gellman tends to, and the rest of the property is leased out. We will be going to the outer paddock.”
The color of her dress accentuated her eyes, a bright, inquisitive green. He longed to lose himself in their depths. He averted his gaze. Thinking such thoughts was not helping in his endeavor to catch the smugglers. He was here on a mission, one that might prove deadly if he let his guard down. “I would like to have the opportunity to speak to Gellman about the smugglers.”
“Whatever for? I can assure you, I know what he knows.” Mouth pressed in a grim line, she glared at him.
“I disagree. He has information that either he hasn’t shared with you, or he has no idea he knows.” Langdon hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to the servant while in London; an oversight he intended to rectify.
She didn’t look convinced.
The paddock abutted a larger field. Three heifers were grazing near the walled-off area. Gellman stood inside the paddock and greeted them with a nod, moving closer to the gate.
Elizabeth rushed to the paddock gate. She gripped the top of the wooden slat but made no move to go inside. “What a fine-looking lad.”
“It is a bull calf. A bull-headed bull calf. The lad didn’t wish to come out of his mom and gave us all a fright, he did,” Gellman said with a grin. Sweat darkened his hair, his broad face reddened from his exertions. “Lord Langdon, I heard you had arrived.”
“Yes, this afternoon. It appears as if you had your hands full with that one.” Langdon nodded toward the calf who had started suckling his mother.
“Lord Langdon would like to ask you a few questions,” Elizabeth said.
Langdon cast her an exasperated glare. Blunt to the very end.
Gellman glanced between them, lines forming between his heavy brows. Tension replaced the earlier comradery. For a long, uncomfortable moment, he held Langdon’s regard, doubt etched in his expression. “I ain’t sure I know anything Mrs. Adare don’t already know. People are tight-lipped about the subject on account of people getting hurt.”
“I understand your hesitation. What you stay to me will be kept in the strictest of confidence.” The servant’s skepticism was understandable. Saying the wrong thing in front of the wrong people could cost him his life.
For an awkward moment, he stared down at his feet. Silence hung in the air, broken by the shuffling of the livestock. His reluctance was palpable. Langdon wouldn’t get anything out of the man standing with Mrs. Adare. He would have to try another tactic.
“If you’re certain she knows everything you do, then I will not hound you in this. I will, however, invite you to the pub for a few pints. I understand from my groom that the ale is exceptional.” Men often spoke of things while in their cups and he’d seize on the opportunity if it afforded itself.
“A pint or two would be welcome.” Gellman settled his hand on the back of his neck and nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Allow me time to get washed up and we can go.”
“I will escort Mrs. Adare back to the house and meet you at the stables.”
The man’s face brightened and he dropped his arm. “Aye.”
Langdon steered Mrs. Adare back the way they came. Dusk had fallen, and a chill pinched the air. She crossed her arms over the wool shawl, upset in her lifted jaw.
“I promise to share what I learn with you,” he said to placate her. Women often went to the pub, but not ladies. It was apparent by her clipped manner that she resented being left out. There was no help for it. They had to keep up appearances.
“I know you will.” She bit her bottom lip and sighed, her arms tightening.
He wished to see her smile again. “I would, however, like to take you on an adventure tomorrow.”
She glanced at him for the first time, her footsteps slowing. The trees that ran along the narrow path blocked them from sight of the house and he stopped.
“Are we to explore the smuggler’s cave or would you rather I show you where they drop anchor?” She laid her hand on his arm and lifted her face, excitement brightening her eyes.
He liked the light-hearted side of her. She had faced hardships in her life, and he wished to make her happy. He dared not ask himself why for it would lead down the road less traveled. “Both. If you’re of a mind, of course.”
“Need you ask?” She gripped his sleeve tighter, an impish spark in her blooming smile. “We will need to be watchful of the ghost that haunts its cliffs.”
“I am more concerned about running into rumrunners than ghosts.” The floral scent of her perfume mingled with the fragrance of nature, drawing him to her. He slipped his arm around her waist, bringing her close to his body.
“I will need a horse.” She settled her palm on his chest and made no protest when he drifted his hand to the small of her back. “The coast is too rough for a carriage.”
“Leave that to me.” He cupped her cheek and allowed his thumb to caress the smooth skin of her bottom lip. Throughout the days he’d been away from her, he’d ached to kiss her once more. Tonight had afforded him an opportunity to do just that.
