Taming Maria (27 page)

He chuckled
and bent to suck those ardent teats. 'You are a charming liar, my
love. You know damn fine that you're as inconstant as myself.' And
though he was enjoying the banter and foreplay, his main intention
was to divert her from questioning him.

It was almost
time, the tide right, the weather calm and the fishing boat sailing
from Calais. If all went without a hitch then soon the passengers
would land and be dispersed about the country, the boat returning
whence it came, and Damien's part carried out successfully.

He warmed as
he thought of it. It was a lucrative side-line. The French paid
well for the privilege of smuggling their agents in and out of the
country. He knew he was playing with fire, but had arrangements in
place for a quick exit to a bolthole in the Caribbean where he
owned a flourishing sugar plantation, manned by slaves. If need be
he could reside there for years, as that particular piece of
paradise was under Spanish rule and was beholden to neither England
nor France.

Arabella drew
his attention back to the present. She was kneeling between his
spread knees and had his breeches undone. He looked down and saw
the pleasing spectacle of his cock rising towards her face. She was
studying it, stretching back the foreskin, admiring its size and
the blue veins that knotted the stem. With a deep-throated purr she
opened her mouth and took the helm between her lips. Damien forgot
the French, his island, and every other consideration, lost in
sensation as she brought him to a thunderous climax.

'I hope you
had a wash before entertaining me,' he said breathlessly, as his
heart slowed and the pleasure spasms passed. 'I know you've been
spending time with common louts.'

'And you have,
no doubt, been consorting with trollops,' she answered acidly. 'At
least the louts were man enough to satisfy me, which you haven't
bothered to do.'

'I want to see
you play with yourself,' he said, making no attempt to touch her
but, his own lust appeased, watching as she opened her thighs,
exposed her slit and stroked her clitoris till she moaned and
yelped and brought herself off.

They sat
together in the afterglow, and he was prepared to indulge her and
let her believe that he cared for her, when in reality it was far
from the truth. Damien cared for no one but himself. Even as they
sipped sherry wine and chatted lightly, so his mind was already
streaking ahead to the evening's events. He was expecting a message
from Captain Chesney. If all went according to plan he would be
joining him and the rest of the gang at the ruined chapel after
dark.

Maria was
walking in the garden. She had arranged for Sarah to be with her,
but had left her in the summerhouse and slipped away on her own. In
her heart she was hoping that Charles might be somewhere about. The
heat was going from the sun now and soon it would be autumn. Damien
was talking of returning to London soon, and by this she guessed he
was expecting his task to be completed before long.

He was a
secretive individual and she had not been able to worm any
information out of him, but by his preoccupied demeanour she
assumed there was more than the mere running of the estate on his
mind. Hopefully matters would come to a head for then, if
necessary, she would send Tranter to Robin and enlist his aid.

She paused at
a stile that led into a meadow, drinking in the sight of the lush
green grass, the patient liver and white cows, and the trees that
were beginning to shed their leaves. They lay like an amber, rust
and yellow carpet on the path. Maria was lost in contemplation, and
then became aware that she was not alone. Arms came around her from
behind.

She recognised
the man who held her. 'What are you doing here?'

Charles turned
her to face him and she had never been more pleased to see anyone.
'Keep your voice low, sweetheart,' he cautioned, and then kissed
her, the touch of his lips, the feel of his strong body
intoxicating her.

He raised his
head and looked down at her. 'I had to see you. To know that you
were so near and yet so far tormented me and kept me from my
duty.'

'Have you any
news? When will this be over?'

'Very soon,
beloved. Has Strafford divulged anything?'

'No. He is
close as a clam, and I'm sure Lady Arabella knows nothing.' Maria's
guilt was ruining this encounter. Supposing he had come upon her
and Damien when they were coupling in the glade yesterday?

'We are
confident that there will be a landing tonight. Our informants have
picked up on it. The conditions are right. We shall be
waiting.'

'Is there
anything I can do to help?' Maria gripped him tightly, the thought
of him going into danger terrifying her. 'I have a friend staying
at Parnham Combe. You remember Robin Claremont, who we met in
London? He came to me with a letter from Jane. I asked him to stay
for a day or so in case we needed his help. I could send Tranter to
him.'

'There is no
need. My men are ready. Just stay safe and don't take any risks,
Maria.'

He pressed her
back against the stile and she was like putty in his hands, her
flesh forgetting Damien and its recent union with him. Though
afraid that someone might see them she urged Charles on, her mouth
opening under his. He clasped her round the buttocks, pulling her
to him, and she wrinkled up her skirt, baring her sex, and then
slipped down the front of her bodice. She could feel the roughness
of his coat chaffing her nipples and sending shockwaves of delight
through her. He freed the hard bough of his cock from the
restriction of his breeches and lifted Maria to the first railing
where she opened her legs, enabling him to penetrate her.

She wriggled
her pubis on the base of his penis, but could not reach completion
until he inserted a hand between them and stimulated her nubbin.
Grinding against his fingers, she was distracted by their exposure
but fell into the rhythm of his regular penetration, her passion
rising until she reached an explosive orgasm.

'My sweet
girl,' he muttered and increased his thrusts, arriving at
fulfilment shortly after her.

Maria was
flustered, pushing him away and sliding from her perch, wanting
nothing so much as to cover herself. 'I must go. My chaperone will
come looking for me.'

He grinned at
her, confining his prick in his breeches once more. 'Soon, my love,
we shall dispense with a duenna. I want to marry you, Maria. What
do you say?'

Her heart
leaped, but there was something holding her back and she did not
know what. 'How dear of you to ask me,' she said, kissing his
smooth-shaven cheek. 'We must talk of this when the danger is over.
There is the problem of Damien. He will never give his
consent.'

'Damien will
not be here, if my plans come to fruition.' Charles's face was
stern, and Maria saw another side of him - the soldier and man of
action who could be ruthless.

It thrilled
her, yet made her afraid. Does one ever really know another human
being? she wondered. Aren't there always unplumbed depths? Charles
must have killed men during the course of his military career. She
had seen him fencing with Damien when both of them wanted to
slaughter the other. And yet they could walk, talk and comport
themselves as gentlemen. It was a mystery, but looking into her own
soul, she admitted that she was capable of avoiding the truth and
deceiving; witness her behaviour with Damien and Charles.

His hands on
her were tender and he kissed her gently in farewell. 'Keep safe,
Maria, and I will contact you when tonight is over. Farewell,
beloved.'

Dusk came and
the dinner hour passed, with Arabella, Damien and Maria seated
formally at table, waited on by a fleet of footmen. When the last
course had been served he rose and pushed back his chair. 'Excuse
me, ladies, but I have business this evening. My agent needs to
discuss the harvest supper with me,' he told them.

'That's too
tedious of you, Damien,' Arabella pouted, tossing her napkin aside
and reaching for her wine glass. 'What am I supposed to do?'

'I've thought
of that, my dear, and have arranged for Squire Longbridge, his lady
wife and several friends to drive over and play cards. Does that
suit you?'

'Indeed it
does. Can you lend me money? Cards are no fun without gambling,'
she responded, all smiles again. 'Will you join us, Maria?'

She shook her
head. 'I think I'll go to bed early.'

She was highly
suspicious of Damien's actions, more and more convinced that he was
expecting the boat to arrive in the cove. If she went to her room,
knowing that Arabella was fully engaged in gambling, once Sarah was
asleep or engaged with a lover, she could go to the chapel and join
in the excitement. Charles had forbidden her, but she was unwilling
to miss any action, almost deciding to send Tranter to Robin, yet
not quite sure if this was a false alarm.

Instead of
going upstairs she decided to follow Damien. There was a crowd in
the hall, the squire and his friends arriving, all loud voices,
laughter and bonhomie. He greeted them warmly, apologizing because
he could not stay, and she succeeded in slipping out of the hall
and down the stairs to the servants' domain and there reaching the
yard. It was filled with those attending to the visitors' carriages
and horses. Maria hid behind a stable door. Soon the coachmen and
postilions, who were in for a long wait, were invited into the
kitchen. It was then that she caught sight of Captain Chesney
sneaking through a side gate. A moment later he was joined by
Damien.

She stood as
if rooted to the spot, straining to hear what they were saying, but
their voices were muffled. Then Damien led Chesney towards the
stable and she shrank back into the gloom. 'Come inside,' she heard
him say. 'Tell me your news.'

They were so
close to Maria that she could see the scar that distorted the
mercenary's face, and Damien's dark, handsome features illumined by
a lantern.

'It's all
coming together as sweet as a nut,' Chesney growled. 'We've had
word from our fishermen that La Rondine will be anchoring in the
cove about ten. There will be a rowing boat ready.'

'Splendid!'
Damien clapped him on the shoulder. 'Go back now and I'll follow
you. My horse is already saddled and waiting.'

They
disappeared into the darkness.

Maria climbed
the ladder leading to the rooms above usually occupied by those who
cared for the horses, maintained the vehicles and drove their
employers from place to place. She found Tranter there in his
shirtsleeves. He leapt up on seeing her, reaching for his
jacket.

She put a
finger to her lips. 'I'm going out, Tranter,' she said. 'If I'm not
back by midnight find Mr Claremont at the Blue Boar, say that I
need him and then both of you ride to the ruined chapel.'

'But, my
lady...' Tranter blurted out.

'Just do as I
say, and don't tell Emily. Now saddle my mare.'

Once again she
was not suitably attired for riding but could think of no excuse
for changing at this late hour. Sarah would be sure to ask
questions. As it was there would be a hue and cry once she was
missed, and this would happen when her duenna realised she was not
with Lady Arabella.

She had
grabbed a cloak on the way out and slung it around her shoulders.
Tranter gave her a leg up into the saddle. She had decided to ride
astride, hitching her skirt high and tucking it between her knees.
He was looking anxious, shaking his head at her daring and she
smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

'It's all
right, Tranter. Just do as I ask.'

She jerked the
rein, clicked her tongue and the mare moved off at a walk. Once
beyond the boundaries of the house Maria urged her into a trot,
mindful that she must keep a safe distance between herself and
Damien. A gibbous moon hung in the sky and the pathway was
shadowed, but the mare was sure-footed and Maria knew the way. She
slowed, listening intently for any sounds ahead, but the only
stirrings were those of creatures using the cover of darkness to
find food.

So far so
good, she thought, hardly daring to believe her luck. She had
reached the trail that led to the chapel and realised that she had
no plan formulated. What had seemed an adventure became a risky
operation. It was all very well wanting to bring Damien to book,
but she should have left it to those better equipped to do so. For
the first time fear gripped her and she almost turned back.

Then she heard
the jingle of harness ahead and curiosity overcame caution. She
dismounted and tethered her horse, then moved forward stealthily,
wishing she had been able to arm herself. Where was Charles? Could
it be that Damien had been misinformed and the fishing boat
carrying its illicit cargo delayed? There were so many variables
and all she could do was follow her instincts and track the
gang.

The chapel's
ruined spire pointed to the moon like an accusing finger, but all
was dark and still. Maria entered the nave and found the door to
the crypt. In was unlocked. She almost turned and ran, but that
inquisitive streak that had ever been her bane made her go on. She
knew the way down the spiral staircase and caught the murmur of
voices, recognising Damien's among them. Then they grew fainter and
she guessed they were entering the tomb and descending to the cave,
there to greet imports that were as illegal as brandy, silks,
tobacco and wine. More so, for the smugglers were performing a
traitorous act that threatened their country.

Maria climbed
into the tomb and followed the tiny glow coming up from far below.
The steps were uneven and it was as if she was descending into a
desolate pit of hell. She followed the light like a moth to a
flame. The voices grew louder. Concentrating on trying to catch
what was being said Maria lost her footing, tripping down the last
few steps and landing at the feet of a man who was guarding the
entrance to a large cave.