Lucy gave Amelia a look. "Another folly on the hill?"

"It would bring visitors in their thousands, but I was teasing."

"Better to build down here," Henry said. "Lucy would prefer that, wouldn't you?"

Clearly any sane person would and David was waiting for her response. She took the safe way out. "I'm not sure."

David went to the door and called for Lucy's coffee. He sat down again, saying, "There's no s.p.a.ce in the village for even a modest earl's seat. Even though I don't intend to hold great state, I don't want to look peculiar."

"Another mad earl," Henry said, nodding.

A maid came in with the coffeepot and a plate of fresh toast-a maid who could have been out on the beach last night, ready to bring in contraband. Lucy began to eat, wondering at the idle banter. The smugglers had almost been caught, a house had been irreparably damaged, people could have been killed, and yet the Kerslakes talked as if there'd been a minor ripple in their comfortable lives. Deceits and deceptions, and yet the Kerslake way was sweet.

Talk turned to where David was to live during the long time he would be homeless.

Henry said, "Mother's suggesting we turn the second parlor into a bedroom for you."

"I can lodge at the tavern."

"She'll not have that and you know it. Of course when Lucy returns to London your room will be available again. And when you wed, it'll do for both of you. You do have to return, Cousin Lucy?"

"My father's wedding," she said, avoiding David's eye.

"And I can go with you?" Amelia asked.

"If your parents permit."

"David, are you going?" Amelia asked.

"I think Lucy and I should discuss that, when you've finished your breakfast, that is."

Lucy realized she'd eaten only half a slice of toast but had no appet.i.te for more. She rose, aware of the palpable curiosity as she left the room. She heard Henry ask, "What's going on?"

Amelia replied, "I don't know."

They left by the front door. Lucy knew that was to avoid the kitchen. Aunt Miriam was probably there and she'd be full of curiosity as well.

When they were away from the house he said, "What troubles you, Lucy?"

"I think we should get a license and marry here, or as soon as we arrive in London."

He stared at her, and then crushed her to him. "Oh, thank G.o.d. I thought you'd changed your mind."

"Changed . . . ?" she squeaked.

He relaxed his hold to look into her eyes. "I thought that the rough reality of my life was too much for you. That you wanted us to part."

"Never. Never! I admit I can't like you being in danger like that, but you, only you, are necessary for my sanity. I can't lose you."

"You won't." He kissed her gently, tasting her as if she were nectar, and she tasted him back, rea.s.suring herself that he was safe, that they were safe together.

But then he said, "There's something I must tell you."

"There's more?" she asked, unable to avoid a touch of dismay.

He grimaced. "Someone did die last night. A Dragon's Cove man called Saul Applin."

"Oh. The one you warned about his wife."

"Yes. He'd also turned traitor, but money was found on him. Fred suspected, but I didn't believe any local man would be so foolish."

"How did he die?"

"Crushed beneath the fallen cliff. But he'd no reason to be right there. It looks as if he was hiding, knowing what was going to happen."

Or, Lucy thought, he'd caused the other smugglers to suspect and they'd inflicted rough justice. This was a wild place, but it was her wild place now.

"I suspect his wife might be relieved."

"And his children. They won't suffer by it. There's a fund to support the family of any man killed in action."

She nodded and smiled. "Of course there would be."

He smiled back, and she saw relief. "Now, let's plan our speedy wedding."

"You wanted banns."

"I told my father he wouldn't stop me, but he doesn't give up plans he thinks right. Better to forestall him."

"Ah, yes, you said your father alerted Lloyd. How?"

"He was here. He tried to abduct me and carry me back to London."

She expected fury, but he nodded. "I suppose he would, once he learned that you'd come here."

"You can't approve!"

"No, but I can understand. I've always doubted that I could make you happy, so I can't be surprised that he does."

"He had no right to disregard my wishes."

"Ah. I can be angry about that, if you wish. I told him he didn't appreciate your true nature."

"You told him? When?"

"When he came to Susan's house in London to forbid me to court you."

"He did what?"

He smiled. "I think you can be outraged enough for both of us. He'd found out that I'm Captain Drake and held that as a weapon. If I didn't desist, he'd inform on me. It would make the situation here more difficult and could lead to arrests. It could, if made public, lead to unpleasant scandal and speculation. But I gave in to his pressure because I thought he was right. That you couldn't be happy here."

"You're as bad as him."

"Not quite, please."

"This is not amusing!"

He took her hands. "No, I'm sorry, but I can't help but be relieved to have told you. I didn't want to keep a secret from you, but I thought you'd be hurt."

"I am, but I know his action came from another kind of overwrought love. I still think we should marry in haste. That insane love could drive him to try again, and that will only make matters worse. I still hope for peace in the family. But I have to tell you, I don't think he'd have cared if you'd have been caught, or even killed."

"Single-minded."

"You don't mind?"

"Yes, but you're right. We won't be better off for life-long enmity. We can try for the Kerslake way and hope your father will strategically forget some events. But we're not marrying in haste. We're marrying with due dignity and joy after banns have been read. I'll keep you safe."

She cradled his face and kissed him. "Thank you. I want that so much.

"Perhaps it's weak of me," she continued as they strolled on, "or the undermining effects of love, but I want to have my family, such as it is, all my life. I want our children to know his. I'm not sure how it would be if we were going to live in the next street, but once married we'll be a blessed distance away most of the time, and three miles away when in London."

"And families matter," he agreed. "But when we return, you're not staying in his house in London. We'll go to Susan's."

"I'd like that. I want to get to know her better."

Hand in hand they turned back toward the house.

"I think I like the Kerslake way," she said.

"It can be exasperating, but I've had a lifetime to come to appreciate it. My mother's behavior could have led to family strife. Instead, it was ignored and Susan and I were accepted into the manor as if Aunt Miriam had produced two more babies."

"Did they ignore the Mad Earl as well?"

"Fortunately he kept to himself up there." They both looked up at the Crag, hardly showing any damage from this angle. "If he'd rampaged about the village, raping the women-which he was arrogantly insane enough to have done-they would have had to do something."

"Perhaps they deterred him."

"No."

"I don't mean directly," Lucy said, "but you once talked of how their goodness kept society together. Perhaps the goodness was like holy water to the devil."

"You could be right. And Mel contributed. He was a criminal, yes, but the most solidly sensible man I've known and good at heart. His father created the Dragon's Horde way, but Mel perfected it. A Kerslake-Clyst conspiracy of goodness." He paused and looked at her. "I will bring smuggling to an end here, Lucy. Not immediately, but as soon as I can."

"Building a new house for the Earl of Wyvern will keep a lot of people employed. I thought of a name for it. Simply Somerford House."

"Dragon free. I like it."

"And it will be simple, won't it?"

He laughed. "You're the one more likely to complicate things with pillars and fancy plastering. It will be your money paying for it."

"We don't want to fritter away money that could be spent more usefully. A simple house, suited to its location. With views, but protection against storms. We'll need a good architect."

"I leave it entirely in your hands, beloved. And yes, you do detect profound relief about that."

They entered the house chuckling, which pleased the family, who'd obviously been hovering, worrying, but Kerslake-like, hoping for the best.

Chapter 40.

They set out the next day, two days before her father's wedding. Amelia accompanied them in the chaise, making it a tight squeeze, but all in all it was a good thing. Such a long journey with David would have been wonderful in many ways, but too intense. Lucy wanted her path stable and smooth before she surrendered to the wild glory that circled them.

They arrived exhausted and unexpected at David's sister's house, but were instantly welcomed. By the afternoon, Lucy's trunk had arrived from the Delaneys' house, and Hannah from her sister's. The first thing Hannah asked was why Lucy wasn't at home.

"All will be at sixes and sevens there," Lucy said, "and I'm sure I can be no help. I'm going to visit, so turn me out well. I've been living in country fashion the past few days."

"So I see, miss! Your traveling gown looks as if you've been dragged through a thicket."

"I've missed you, Hannah. Let's get to work."

She chose the pink that she'd worn to leave her father's house weeks ago, and when she looked at herself in the mirror she again felt strange in fashionable finery. When she went down, David was in Town style and had even had his hair trimmed.

"Good afternoon, my lord," Lucy said to him, curtsying.

"Don't be impertinent, wench. Though you are up to the nines."

"Armored for the occasion."

He'd hired a stylish carriage from a livery stable to take them to the City, which seemed both familiar and strange.

"I'm both drawn to it and repelled," Lucy said. "This is the rhythm I've known all my life, and there's so much here I like. But the air smells. It didn't before. The sounds I took for granted, both here and in the west end, are a cacophony."

As they drew close to her home she said, "I can't predict how this will go. I didn't expect him to marry again, yet I should have. I never imagined he'd try to abduct me, and yet now it doesn't surprise me. Now I worry that he might react violently. . . ."

He covered her gloved hand with his. "He can't. And he's not fool enough to try. I can't claim to know him as you do, but he's not a fool."

"I take courage from that."

The carriage drew up in front of the house. Her home all her life, but no longer. David rapped with the knocker.

Nancy, the maid, answered, instantly smiling. "Welcome home, miss."