Chapter Sixteen

It was a fine thing the Fir Tree had a roaring fire going considering Hannah had no change of clothes. Mortification still stung her cheeks even as she dried in their position by the fire. The inn was not much different to the Ship with its clouded windows and low beamed roof. They sat, tucked in one corner, with the fire giving off a welcoming warmth. After a generous sized pork pie and a helping of brandy that Red had insisted on, she was feeling almost human.

But still embarrassed.

What a fool she had been. Why had she been so stubborn? Why must she always insist on doing things her way? She had been an unbearable burden on this journey, dragging Red into her mess, even though he had wanted nothing to do with her. How arrogantly she had behaved, believing they could somehow defeat nature. Well, she would not make that mistake again. Was research not about studying everything and coming to a conclusion rather than blindly blundering along with one's own conclusion? Clearly, she had not learned as much as she had thought from her father. She should have listened to Red.

He stood at the bar now, conversing with the barkeep, likely trying to find out about transport to Taunton. She was happy to let him take charge after her blundering. She would only make a big mess of it and probably have them on a carriage that would take them all the way back to Land's End or something.

"Enough sulking," Red said as he strode back over.

She lifted her gaze from the empty brandy glass and let her attention roll over the long length off him. He'd abandoned his greatcoat to the back of his chair to let it dry, and his jacket was open, revealing his waistcoat. She followed each golden button up to his cravat and then traced the shadowed stubble on his jaw. It had felt rough against her skin but not unpleasant.

The kiss seemed a blur now. Entirely natural and needed, and yet it had happened in a mere moment and ended all too soon. All she had known was she was grateful to be alive and needed to feel his lips upon hers. It was a trifle inconvenient wanting to kiss him all the time—and not at all ladylike. What would her father think of her?

She laughed to herself. He would likely not even notice if she kissed Red right in front of him. Her father had never paid much attention to her minimal courting life. He was too busy studying.

"I am not sulking," she finally said.

No, she was just mightily ashamed of herself. She would try to be better, though. She would prove to him that she could listen to him and take on board his opinion—that she was not some demanding harpy who always thought herself right.

"A stagecoach goes from the market square." He pulled out his pocket watch. "We only have half an hour before it leaves. It will take us to Exeter."

She nodded. "That's good."

She followed him out of the inn, feeling very much like the meek and mild little lady, following after the man in charge. And it was better that way. Men liked their women quiet and for good reason. Hannah bet meek and mild women never nearly drowned anyone.

They followed the harbor wall to the town square. The tide had come in further and several boys were fishing, using rods made from sticks and string and a few worms as bait. A cry came from one of them, making Hannah pause and press a hand to her chest.

"What is it?" one of the boys asked, racing over to his friend's side.

The lad who had cried out drew out a white garment with a flourish. "It's a corset!" he declared, glee written on his face.

All the other boys gathered around and began fingering the sodden cotton and lace. Hannah cringed.

"Should I rescue it from them?" Red did a poor job of hiding his amusement as he pressed his lips together.

She shook her head. "It is ruined now, and I certainly have no wish to claim it."

They moved on toward the cobbled square which was centered around a memorial to men lost at sea. "I suppose you think I got what I deserved," she said quietly as she studied the names and ages carved into the stone plinth.

"Hannah, if you think I wished you to learn a lesson by nearly drowning, you are sorely wrong. However, it is a little amusing."

"For you perhaps. You did not have young boys playing with your undergarments."

"Think of the joy you brought them."

"I would rather not."

"If it is any consolation, I nearly drowned myself when I first began, uh, my extra activities."

She turned to face him, trying to imagine this strong man overcome by waves. "How?"

"I misjudged the depth of the water when bringing in some goods. It was the early days, and as much as I might have lived by the sea all my life, I am no seaman." He motioned out toward the beach. "Drake deposits them on the ocean bed, ensuring they're weighted down. The goods are hidden from sight and can be collected by night."

"That sounds dangerous."

He smirked. "Smuggling is dangerous."

She glanced around, fearful someone might overhear but the square was not too busy with only a few people strolling through. "So you go into the sea to collect them."

"Yes. They're at a depth where you can get them easily enough, but it has to be deep enough so the excise men do not spot them. If the sea is a bit rough it is not usually a problem, but we had not figured out the best point to deposit them yet. It was early days for us, you understand."

She nodded. Well, she understood what he meant but the whole smuggling thing was hard to understand. Why did he take such risks?

"It was out of my depth and the weather was poor. A freak wave grabbed me and pulled me under. Were it not for Knight, I would have drowned. Thankfully he's the size of a house or else we would have both gone under." He shook his head and gave a half smile. "I should have listened to my gut and left it until the waves had calmed. Needless to say, I understand the water a little better these days."

"So you always listen to your gut now?"

"Always."

She considered her own stomach and did not feel anything in it apart from being full from the meal. "I am not sure I have a ‘gut instinct.'"

"Perhaps you are too busy trying to think logically to listen to your gut."

Hannah frowned but was saved from defending herself by the interruption of a short, well-dressed gentleman.

"I say, are you waiting for the stage?"

Hannah glanced over him. His round cheeks were lined with great slashes of hair that ran all the way down his jawline. His cheeks were ruddy and his nose was bulbous and a similar hue. He wore a rigid top hat and buckskins. Beside him, a female companion of similar age offered the same open expression—a wide smile on her face. She could have been his sister, sporting the same rounded figure with a generous bust and rosy cheeks. Her grey hair was curled carefully and topped with a wide-brimmed bonnet. She wore a fine gown of silk and lace.

"Yes, indeed we are," Red replied.

"You're the earl, are you not? the man asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

"I suppose so." Red's voice was edged with hesitation.

"See, dear. We are to share a stage with an earl. Is that not wonderful? Did I not tell you this would be a fine journey indeed? And there you were fretting about the weather."

"Oh you tease." The woman smacked his arm lightly. "I was not fretting at all. I merely said the weather looked a little grim. I am hardly the sort to be afraid of a little rain."

"Oh no indeed. No woman is ever afraid of a little rain ruining their hair or bonnet." He winked at Red, who appeared utterly baffled by the overly talkative couple. "Now will you complain at me for making us wait a day to travel? I do not think you will, will you, my dear? Not when we have fine company with us." The man finally drew breath. "I am Lord Crawford and this charming creature who does so loathe the rain is my wife, Lady Crawford."

"A pleasure," Red said, with some hesitation. "Lord Redmere, at your service. And this is my cousin Miss St. John."

The words tripped off his tongue so easily, Hannah almost startled at them. Of course they had been travelling under the guise of some family relation, but she had never actually heard him say the words. She only hoped these people did not press for more information as to how exactly they were related. Hannah had travelled plenty on her own but never in the company of a man who was not her family. Scandal would hardly follow her —she was not really important enough for such things—but she would not wish to cause any gossip.

"See, my dear?" Lord Crawford said, nudging his wife. "We are travelling in fine company. Are you not glad I took the lead and decided we should leave today?"

His wife released a wide smile. "I am indeed. Goodness knows we are in want of good company. Plymouth is a pleasant sort of town, but there is no one to visit with. I am practically ravenous for some fine company and even better gossip. Tell me, where did you travel from? Redmere?"

Red hardly seemed to know what to do with the chatty couple. His arrogant facade had come across his face and his lips were tightly pinched. She could practically feel the dread coming off him. He had no inclination whatsoever to spend a day travelling with them. However, they had little choice and at least the couple were pleasant, if a little gauche.

Hannah smiled. "Yes—at least nearby."

"So you have had quite a journey already," Lord Crawford concluded. "And where do you travel to? We have been visiting with my lady wife's dear sister and her seven children."

"Oh you silly bean, she has nine," his wife corrected.

"Oh goodness." The man chuckled. "Nine! Who on earth could keep up? Every time I tried to count, they moved and I had to start again." He drew out his pocket watch and gave it a quick glance. "Anyway, we have been—Ah, here comes our transport."

Hannah practically heard Red's long exhale. She pressed a warning hand to his arm. They needed this coach if they were to progress to Exeter, and she did not much want him to be rude to their travelling companions. For an earl, he really did lack airs and graces sometimes. She smiled as he grumbled something under his breath. She supposed she could not complain about that. There was nothing false about Red, and there was something refreshing about that.

Their belongings were loaded onto the chaise, and Red handed Hannah into the coach before sitting beside her. The vehicle, drawn by four horses, was a little finer than the mail coach with a plush velvet interior and comfortable cushions. Hannah's weary body accepted the comfort of them with ease. Sleeping in a mail coach really did nothing for one's muscles.

Lady Crawford beamed at Hannah. "Are you stopping at Exeter?"

Hannah shook her head. "We are to travel on to London. We hope to hire a private coach."

Lord Crawford gave her a sympathetic look. "Are you from London, my dear? No doubt you find the travelling in Cornwall and Devon most barbaric, having to stop all the time and cross these pesky rivers."

She tried not to think about their river crossing earlier today and her undergarments hanging from a boy's fishing rod. No doubt it would one day be a tale to amuse, but at present, it brought her more shame than enjoyment.

"I reside in Hampshire, but I visit London on a regular basis. The transport is certainly not quite so...organized as in London."

Lady Crawford chuckled. "You are a diplomatic young woman. Travelling in Devon is quite a to do as myself and my husband are aware. I adore visiting with my sister—"

"She adores doting on all her eleven children," her husband interrupted.

"Oh you tease." She tapped his leg.

"You know she has nine."

"And you cannot resist spoiling a single one of them."

"That I cannot," she confided in Hannah. "However, I do tire of the journey, even though it is but two days. I cannot imagine how you feel about your journey ahead. No doubt you are weary already."

"Yes, weary indeed," Red drawled.

If the woman had heard the hint there, she showed no sign of it. "Well, we shall have a jolly good journey and hopefully provide you with a little break from the tedium of travelling. I imagine you are much better at travelling than us, Miss St. John, but we shall try our best to rise to the challenge."

Hannah saw Red's jaw ticking. She surreptitiously gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. They would only be travelling with the couple for two days. It could hardly be any worse than what they had already experienced so far.

The woman continued on much the same vein until they reached the coaching inn. Her husband was a viscount, they discovered, with a sizeable estate in Devon.

Her husband interjected at most moments and delighted in teasing his wife. Never had Hannah witnessed such frivolity and humor. If she were not so tired, she might have been more amused, but by the time they had climbed stiffly up to their bed, their stomachs full with generous pork cutlets, she had quite the headache. Red shut the door to their room and pressed his back to it.

"If I heard another word from her, I was likely to stuff my cravat in her mouth."

"That is not very gentlemanly." She tugged off her gloves and put them on the side. She grimaced at her creased dress. What would they think of her, wearing the same gown tomorrow? She shook her head at herself. Whatever they thought, it was her fault and she would have to suffer the consequences of her foolish decision.

"I am not always very gentlemanly," Red said, casting his gaze over her.

The breath in her lungs froze. Her lips parted of their own accord.

His eyes were dark, some secret message written in them, and she longed to find out what it was. Even after a day of travelling, he pulled at something inside her. Something that willed her to throw herself against him and feel every part of that strong body with absolute leisure. With his chestnut hair slightly wild and his cravat pulled loose, he was every inch the roguish lord. She had never thought herself intrigued by such men—but then, she had never met Red before.

"Get some sleep," he said softly.

The words jolted her. She frowned.

"Get some sleep, Hannah. We have a long day ahead, and I am tired. I have no wish to do something we will both regret."

Hannah almost wished he had not said that as she tucked herself in under the blankets. What would they both regret? A kiss? Something more? Did he…did he wish to make love to her? She could not be sure, after all, no man had ever revealed such a wish to her before, but if she analyzed it carefully…