She slipped happily out of bed, but then winced as parts of her legs complained. Simply from walking up to his house! There was a challenge she'd never expected, but an easy one to defeat. She'd become a Devonshire woman in no time.

She considered her three gowns, wondering which to wear for church. It would have to be the traveling gown again. After church she'd be exploring the area, which meant rough paths, more slopes, and even wild vegetation. Remembering feeling stones through the soles of her shoes, she resolved to have some st.u.r.dy boots made as soon as possible.

Perhaps everyone else was accustomed to the birds, for when she left the room, the house seemed quiet. She'd like to go outside, so she went downstairs, where she found the front door unlocked. London houses were always locked at night, and the lower windows generally had grilles over them. Was the countryside truly so much safer?

When she stepped outside, the birds were still singing and the air was astonishingly fresh. She'd always found morning light brighter, but here it sparkled. She wasn't entirely reconciled to the lack of city conveniences, but she could understand how a more populous place might seem dirty and stale.

Was it safe to walk away from the house? The unlocked door said yes, but Lucy thought about unpredictable smugglers and circled the house to revisit the orchard.

As she pa.s.sed beneath the honeysuckle arch she set to thinking about how to have an orchard and a flower garden up near the Crag. By the time she was startled by a gardener pushing a wheelbarrow, she'd dreamed time away going over past pleasures and antic.i.p.ating a lifetime of them. The young man bobbed his head and gave her good morning before hurrying on his way with a barrow of what looked and smelled like manure. Not everything in a garden was sweet.

Did his appearance mean the family might be up? She was quite hungry.

She walked back to the house and followed the path round to the front. Before she got there, a back door opened and a young maid called, "Would you like to come this way, miss? It's quicker to the breakfast parlor."

Lucy entered a large, aromatic kitchen. An elderly cook smiled. "Good morning, miss! What do you like for your breakfast, then? Sir Nathaniel likes his beef and Mister Henry his ham, but the ladies have bread and eggs. And chocolate."

"Just bread, thank you. And coffee, if that's possible."

"Course it is, dearie. Off you go."

Chuckling at having clearly been added to the family, Lucy let the young maid direct her to the breakfast parlor. She'd never pined for a large family, but now she saw how lovely it could be.

David woke to the day with foreboding. There was nothing eerie about that. He wasn't at ease about the run tonight, but the Horde had been inactive for too long and he knew many muttered that he was too cautious. Even the Taurus sailing by and firing blanks at them hadn't driven home how much more dangerous the trade was now. He didn't care what they thought of him, but he didn't want them taking mad risks again.

Then there was Lucy.

So much was better now she knew the truth about him, but she didn't know that her father opposed the match and might take strong measures to prevent it. Or that Potter might cut all connection if she defied him.

Devil take it. Had he held that information back for fear that she'd choose her father over him?

She'd be better off if they'd never met, but he couldn't want that. The thought of life without her was intolerable, but he truly was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d for letting control slip and taking away all choice.

He realized something else.

If anything happened to him before they wed and she was with child, she'd be completely ruined. Or more likely forced into a hasty marriage with whoever would take her. No, his Lucy wouldn't do that. So it would be ruin.

"You really are a b.a.s.t.a.r.d," he muttered at himself as he got out of bed.

Death was rare during a run, but that was because most runs went off smoothly. When one had gone awry, John Clyst had died. And if Lloyd learned of the plan and turned up, he and his men would fire. Anything could happen in the dark. If that d.a.m.ned ship returned, it might put b.a.l.l.s in its guns once it was sure it had an illegal target.

License.

But even if he could persuade Lucy to marry that way, it couldn't happen before tomorrow. They could marry on a Sunday, but only between nine and noon. There was no way to get a license that quickly.

So he must keep as safe as possible.

He couldn't put command of tonight's run in anyone else's hands, so he could only do his best to keep out of any danger. He'd keep to his watching station on the cliff top, apart from the action down on the beach, which would be the target of any attack.

And he had the luxury of spending most of today with Lucy.

He washed and dressed, and then breakfasted with Fred, dealing with the essential business of the earldom. They also discussed the run. He'd not meant to involve Fred, but his weeks away had made that necessary. And now Fred wouldn't be left out entirely.

"You're not to get directly involved," David said. "You're to keep a monitoring station here, with Ada up the top to watch for distant signals, and with a few lads ready to run messages."

"You'll risk them and not me?"

"It's in their blood and they can run this area in the dark. They do it for fun sometimes"

"I'm learning the skill."

"You stay here and dispatch messengers if Lloyd is anywhere in the area, or if the Taurus is spotted sailing this way."

"We're hoping no one will spot the Marianne coming in, so how do your watchers keep track of the Taurus?"

"Every one of them has young, sharp eyes, plus the Marianne will hoist dark sails and the navy ship will have white. Even starlight will show white sails." David rose. "I'm off to the manor to go to church with the family."

Fred smiled. "You're a lucky man."

David didn't smile back. "Pray my luck holds."

He walked down to the manor, greeted all the way by people bright-eyed at the prospect of some action at last. Profit, yes, but action, too. He felt it in himself. His sensible side lingered on danger and safety, but there was nothing like the time just before a run-except the knife-edged excitement during one.

But then he saw the woman he loved, bright and beautiful in the morning sunshine, smiling a welcome, antic.i.p.ating their day, and that was finer than all. She was wearing the brown gown and dull bonnet she'd arrived in. He'd seen her in much finer clothing, but she'd never looked so beautiful. From beneath the bonnet, her hair curled loose around her face, a perfect frame for her sparkling eyes and smiling lips. She was a G.o.ddess, and he was proud as a peac.o.c.k about escorting her to church and parading her around his villages, his for all to see.

Lucy knew she was showing every bit of her love and delight, but there were no secrets between them anymore, especially not that.

They linked arms as they walked with his family and their servants toward the church's summoning bell. The path took them through the manor's gardens and then down a footpath between cottage gardens, some better tended than others.

As they entered the mellow churchyard she asked, "How old is the church?"

"Only a bit over a hundred. The old one fell down. Inadequate foundations."

"I could wish someone had been as careless with Crag Wyvern."

He smiled. "There is the possibility that the sea will wash away the cliff from under it in time."

Not in time for us, Lucy thought.

Even though the church was newer than the one she attended in London, the service felt deeply traditional to her. Probably most of the congregation had roots here that went back many centuries, perhaps even to before the conquest. She'd read that there were stone quarries nearby that had been used by the Romans.

After the service, they walked out into the sunshine, and as usual people dallied, chatting. She was introduced to the doctor and his family. He hoped to attract some of the sea-bathing trade to the area. Lucy was all in favor of more business, but she silently wondered how it would blend with smuggling.

Eventually, people went off to their homes. She and David lingered and he showed her around the graves. There was the usual collection of small and large headstones from many centuries.

"Are your family buried here?" she asked. When he nodded, she realized that one day she would rest here, too. It was an odd thought, but not unpleasant.

"The Clysts are scattered around, but this is the Kerslake area."

A cla.s.sic plinth had KERSLAKE carved on each side, but it was surrounded by unpretentious stones. Lucy read the names of Kerslakes going back to the fifteen hundreds. The baronetcy came in the late seventeenth century, and the names Nathaniel and Henry seemed to alternate from then on. Many graves held families, but one small headstone recorded only one name.

JOSEPH KERSLAKE, BORN AND DIED, FEBRUARY 1790.

SON OF MELCHISADECK CLYST AND ISABELLE KERSLAKE.

"I see they didn't try to hide the irregularity."

"What point? No one knew then why Mel and Belle didn't marry, but they were treated as husband and wife. Some people thought her wanton, but she was always faithful to Mel. She made a poor first choice, but had the courage to break free and claim her right to happiness."

Lucy studied him. "You admire her."

"I admire strong women. I think you might understand one another very well."

"Perhaps, but I would never neglect my children."

"We'll never know what she might have done if she hadn't been able to give us into the manor's care. I doubt she would have abandoned us to the parish, and if she'd thought of it, Mel would never have allowed it. However, I can't imagine her a loving mother. I spent time with Mel, but if I encountered her, I might as well have been any other village lad. I'm deeply grateful to have had Aunt Miriam instead."

"Your Kerslake family is lovely. As you said, the sort of good people who hold communities together." They strolled along a path around the church, and she decided to share an uneasy thought. No secrets, she remembered.

"I was always happy at home, but now I wonder what it would have been like with brothers and sisters. Better? Perhaps, but I suspect my father would not have been quite so keen to conduct much of his business from home."

"You're probably right. I remember times when the four of us were hurtling around up to mischief with Aunt Miriam and Uncle Nathaniel yelling at us to be quiet. Unless the weather was atrocious, we were just shooed outside. We were all happy to explore like wild things, rolling home as the light went, sc.r.a.ped, bruised, muddy, and contentedly tired."

Lucy thought of the girl with the kite. She would enjoy such a life. "No school for you, either?" she asked.

"Of course. The vicar tutored us all when young; then Henry and I went off to school in Honiton. Amelia and Susan both spent a little time at a girls' school there, but neither enjoyed it, so they were allowed to return home."

"But you weren't."

"No, and I needed a good education. I'd my way to make. I refused to go to university, however, and learned land management from my uncle and others."

"Yet you bought a book on drainage."

"On new systems. There's always improvement these days, isn't there?"

"Always," she agreed. "But for the moment this is lovely. Parade me proudly around Church Wyvern as your bride-to-be, and then take me down to the village on the beach. I've never been on a beach."

"Never been on a beach?"

"You see all the wonders you have to show me?"

They retraced their way between the cottage gardens. People were working in some of them, despite it being Sunday. And why not? Surely G.o.d approved of wholesome work. They all smiled and called a greeting.

One gap-toothed man cried out a particularly cheery, "A grand day, sir! Grand!"

"Everyone seems happy," Lucy said.

"Fair weather."

A stout young woman called out a similarly cheery greeting as she sat spinning in the sun, healthy, happy children running around her. Then four lads hurtled around a corner in a game, shouting something about the excise men, almost colliding with them.

"Sorry, cap'n!" one said.

David clipped him around the head. "Be off to your homes."

The boys ran.

Lucy was startled by the blow, but then realized that the boy had called him "captain."

"You could be exposed so easily."

"That's why they have to learn. I want them to be learning other things, too. We need a school, and special help for the brightest ones. I want their world full of things other than smuggling."

"My father cares about the children, too. He sponsors many charities that house and educate orphans and show kindness while they do it."

"Being a foundling himself."

"Yes. He's particularly keen to provide opportunities for the clever ones to do as well as he has. I think you'll find you have much in common. That you'll like each other."

He halted to look at her. "You think so? Are you sure he'll approve of your marrying me?"

She couldn't say a wholehearted yes as yet. "Why not?"

"I'm the Peasant Earl, and possibly a mad one."

"If the madness worries him, we'll tell him the truth."

"Will we also tell him I'm Captain Drake?"

She had to pull a face. "Not if we can help it. But I doubt he's as pure as new snow. He might understand."

"Even if he accepts that, he'll not like my taking you so far from him."

"Stop!" she said. "This argument is pointless. We're to marry, and whatever reservations my father might have, he'll come around. He wants me to marry a t.i.tle. He hopes a grandson will one day be an earl."

They were out of sight of others for the moment, so she paused for a kiss.

"Don't worry so, my love. All will be perfect."

Chapter 36.