Lady X

“Papa, enough! MacTorry is my problem and I mean to handle him, one way or another.”

“Have you taken the measure of the man? You don’t know what you are up against, David.”

“You give him too much credit. He is no more than a rogue who is bored and looking for a lark. Going to give him one,” David said with a smirk.

“You are jealous of him and want to bring him low. It isn’t going to happen this way, and that is another thing. I won’t have you terrorizing our guest. It isn’t seemly and word will get out. Do you understand me?”

“Aye, servants talk, but they don’t know…”

“You don’t know what they know. It has been my experience that they know everything that goes on in their household. Stay away from her and stop letting that thing between your legs rule your mind.”

“You might as well understand me, Papa. I don’t mean to let that Scotsman stand in my way with Exerilla. I want her and she will be mine.”

The squire was shocked. He had done many things he was ashamed of, but he had never crossed the line. He had never taken a woman against her will. It was unthinkable. When had his son become so black-hearted?

* * *

Exerilla laid in her bed thinking about Lord Blue Eyes and his kiss. She could still taste him, smell him, and feel him.

It was late and she really needed some sleep.

An energy arising from her magic inner witch was taking over her senses and demanded release. Her witch wanted out, needed to breathe, and told her she needed him.

She got up from the bed and paced. X went to the window and opened it for air then stopped short to listen as she stood breathing in the cold night breeze. She could hear murmuring. It sounded like two men. She saw movement but couldn’t make out who they were in the dark.

It was time to up the volume on her witch’s hearing. She closed her eyes and gave her witch release. It felt so darn good. It was who she was and who she needed to be. All this while in this time zone, she had been hiding her witch deep inside of her so that it could not be detected by another otherworldly being.

She could now hear everything quite clearly. The breath these two individual men took and released. She could hear even the movement of their hands and the sound of their boots shuffling on the grass. She heard the soft breeze wafting through the trees, but most importantly she could hear what they were saying.

She almost gasped out loud as she recognized Jerry Swit’s voice and heard his resigned tone. “Aye, he means to join me for the crossing, but I don’t like it. He is a crafty one and I don’t know who is doing the trapping here.” He seemed to hesitate and asked, “is yer father still willing to let us pass through his land? It is the best route you know.”

“Of course. He likes the blunt thrown his way.”

Exerilla held onto the ledge for support. She was in shock. The man, who had just answered Swit, was David!

“Right, but I’m telling you again that this Scotsman is going to be trouble. I don’t like it.”

“Don’t be a fool. He thinks he is out for a lark. Once he is embroiled, then he is ours.” David paused. “Tell me Swit, just why does Jacob give you so much freedom?”

“Friendship,” Swit answered glibly.

“Friendship be damned! Just what do you have on him?”

“Never mind. I best be going if I am to round up m’lads at the dock and set things in motion.”

The two dark figures parted company.

Exerilla stood for a long moment, unable to move. Swit and Horwich were smugglers. Somehow they had drawn Hunter into it. This was not good and she did not like what she heard.

* * *

Hunter watched France recede in the darkness of the night. His mind was with his younger brother Ferrell, whose letter had spurred him on this particular mission. “A traitor lies near,” Ferrell had written. “They are looking at me, but I am fairly certain I know who it is. I am watching him. Would you help me investigate from your side of the channel?” Ferrell was answered in person, coming to Hunter one evening through the portal when his brother was alone.

It was nearly impossible to imagine that Swit could manage such an operation. It was one that had slipped by most of Wellington’s staff. Someone had to be behind him, and he was beginning to think that he knew just who that someone was.

The winds had been with them. Forty tubs had been secured and stowed on board Sir Jacob’s yacht, and so deftly hidden that you could move from end to the other without easily catching sight of them.

Hunter watched the three men Swit had brought with him and remembered the first of Jerry’s lies this night. He had said only one man would accompany them.