My Lord Deceived Read Free Page B

anyone other than Catherine Baird.
    Although how he
went about capturing her interest, he had no idea. As a well
travelled man of the world, he was not unfamiliar with women, and
had sampled his fair share however, those had been physical
dalliances. None of them had ever touched his heart and, he
suspected, no woman except for Kat, ever would.
    “Please send my
regards to your uncle, my lord,” Mrs Fitzsimmons sighed, and nodded
respectfully at him. She beamed from ear to ear with pride that the
Lord from Dentham Hall, had stopped to converse with her.
    “I will, Mrs
Fizsimmons, thank you.” He turned to scowl at an altercation
further around the harbour, and watched as excise men stormed into
one house whose owner was protesting his innocence, and the
frequency in which his home was invaded.
    Jonathan
frowned and nodded toward the house as he caught one word.
“Again?”
    “Second time in
two weeks,” Mrs Fizsimmons replied with a sigh. “I have no idea
what they are searching for, but they seem to have it in their
heads that we have something to hide.”
    Jonathan
studied the secretive twinkle in the older woman’s eye. His
interest was piqued at the suspicious glint he saw lurking in her
rheumy depths. He knew what she was hinting at and lifted his brow
in astonishment. “I take it that there is nothing to find?” He
heard the woman cough uncomfortably and saw the shadows shift
inside the shop. Someone murmured something, but Jonathan didn’t
catch what was being said. He studied the excise men piling into
the house and turned to look at the Shipwright Inn.
    “I think I may
have been away too long,” he sighed. He glanced warningly at the
woman. “I am going to be around for a while, so will see if I can
find out why the excise men feel the need to check so frequently. I
sincerely hope that there is nothing to hide.” He watched Mrs
Fitzsimmons’ wary nod and knew in his gut that there was something
amiss. “I heard that someone was arrested in the village a few
weeks back.”
    “Aye, that
would be Andrew Ransley and Edward Hawkshurst.”
    “Smuggling?”
    “Further around
the coast. Caught red handed they were.”
    Jonathan shook
his head. He wanted to ask if anyone else in the village was
involved, but knew that nobody would answer his questions. Although
he was a villager, he had been away for some time and didn’t
actually live in the village. The locals were friendly and
welcoming but had never really considered him one of their closest.
He had to be very selective whom he asked questions of because with
a village as small as Burnham by Sea, gossip was a mainstay of
village activity. Asking anyone any questions would be discussed
and analysed before he made it home. His thoughts turned toward
Harper Hamilton-Smythe, the local magistrate, and he made a mental
note to pay a visit to his friend at the earliest opportunity.
    As a member of
the Star Elite, Jonathan was up to his eyes and ears in smugglers,
and the French spies some of the smugglers brought into the
country. He could only hope and pray that while he had been away
fighting to protect king and country from French invasion,
smuggling of any kind hadn’t been going on right on his very own
doorstep.
    He nodded to
Mrs Fitzsimmons and shifted in his saddle to glance back at the
excise men as they moved on to the next house. With a sigh he
headed around the coast in search of home. He puffed out his cheeks
and glanced across at the looming clouds on the horizon. The stiff
sea wind had grown considerably colder and he snuggled down into
his cloak as he took the narrow, winding path up the hill and out
of the village. At the top he rode to the edge of the cliff. It
gave him a perfect view of the harbour. He sat there for some time
studying the small dots that were people, scurry this way and that.
It was only when the excise men departed the last house that he
turned away and headed home.
    It seemed that
much had changed while he had been