Inside the cave, they broke the padlocks on the chests and discovered an abundance of valuable jewelry, coins, and silver—mainly candelabra and dinnerware.
Fletcher gave a long, low whistle. “Cor, ’tis a fortune.”
“Not the work of Freetraders,” Rotham agreed grimly.
With that new intelligence, it was easier for Tess to gain his grudging approval in helping to guard the cave. After some further discussion, they formulated their plans. Rotham’s footmen would assume the next shift, while he and Tess and another servant would take the third shift later that night, beginning at ten o’clock. Fanny and Basil would relieve them at four A.M., along with Tess’s stalwart coachman, Spruggs.
Then they returned to the castle and informed the various parties about their duties. Basil was not keen on Fanny endangering herself, either, but although she was pleased by his protectiveness, Fanny used the same argument with him that Tess had used with Rotham—or Ian, as she had agreed to call him.
They dined together as usual that evening, and repaired to the drawing room afterward for cards and conversation. But when ten o’clock neared, instead of retiring for bed, Tess and Ian changed their formal attire for dark clothing—garments that were thick and heavy enough to protect against the nip in the autumn night air.
Slipping quietly through the dark castle then, they exited through a side door, where they met one of Rotham’s grooms.
Rotham—Ian—had brought two loaded pistols and a lamp, although they couldn’t use a light for fear of giving themselves away. The half moon was bright enough to illuminate the woods, however, as they negotiated the path down to the cove. And the soft rush of the waterfall was sufficient to cover the sound of their progress and even drown out the rhythmic swell of the surf surging against the shore.
Even so, when they encountered the first footman, they kept their voices low. Ian’s groom took the footman’s place, hiding behind a patch of shrubbery, and Ian and Tess moved on to relieve the second footman inside the cave.
The interior was nearly pitch-dark. Thus, Tess was glad Ian had paced off the dimensions earlier, since he was able to lead her to the rear of the cave. They settled behind the low wall of boulders, so that they could cover the cave entrance and the tunnel opening at the same time.
To avoid being heard over the babble of the waterfall, they spoke little as they waited for the thieves to show themselves. Tess rested her shoulder against Ian’s strong arm, glad to feel his reassuring warmth. She had dressed in a hooded cloak, woolen gown, and gloves, yet after an hour, the chill of the rock seemed to seep into her limbs.
Ian must have felt her shiver, because he murmured quietly, “Come here,” as he drew her closer.
He repositioned her between his outstretched legs, with her back to his chest, his arms wrapped around her from behind. Gratefully, Tess leaned back against him and concentrated on staying awake in the darkness.
As the time slowly ticked by, she felt herself growing stiff as well as sleepy, but she was not about to complain since she had been the one to insist on accompanying him to the cave.
Perhaps another ten minutes passed before she shivered again. In response, Ian shifted his hold and drew down the hood of her cloak to expose her hair, which was still pinned in an elegant chignon from dinner. To her surprise, he lightly kissed her bare nape. Then he slipped one gloved hand between the folds of her cloak to cover her gown’s bodice.
Tess drew a startled breath, and when he began caressing her breasts from behind, she asked in an incredulous whisper, “What are you doing?”
“I am merely trying to warm you.”
The sound of his low voice scraped along her senses and flooded her with the warmth of memory, taking her back to the previous night spent in his bed. And when his hand slowly continued stroking her breasts, she knew he was purposely arousing her, despite his denial.
“You are trying to seduce me, aren’t you?” she demanded hoarsely.
“That was not my original intention. If I wished to seduce you, I would do this.…”
Through her layers of clothing, his gloved fingers plucked at her nipple, sending a shock of sensation spearing through her.
“You cannot make love to me here, Rotham.”
“My name is Ian,” he reminded her, gently nipping her earlobe.
“You cannot make love here, Ian.”
“Yes, I can,” he answered, unperturbed. “Shall I show you?”
His free hand delved inside her cloak to stroke over her gown, sliding along the fabric covering her abdomen, then lower to cup her woman’s mound between her thighs, pressing her skirts against the bare flesh of her sex.
Tess gasped at the pleasurable friction.
“Hush, darling. You don’t want to give us away.”
Yet it was difficult to hush. Even through her gown she could feel Ian pinching her nipples above while probing her feminine folds below. The combined effect of his dual assault sent a bolt of sheer sexual excitement through Tess.
As he pressed harder against her sensitive core, her own gloved fingers clutched on his hard thighs.