Chapter 5
Early October
Robin woke with a start.
For a moment he’d lost his bearings, thinking at first he was back on board his ship, then the next, his room at Normanton House. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of a rooster and chickens clucking that he remembered where he was.
Justin’s cottage.
He’d slept like the dead on a small cot by the fire in the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it. In fact, it was a useful cover. He could claim that he’d been drinking and dicing with Justin well into the night and decided it wiser to sleep there than stumble his way home.
Better being thought louche than trying to dodge servants who might find themselves wondering aloud why Captain Somerville was sneaking in and out of the house at all hours.
Over the past couple of weeks, he and Justin had spent long days studying their quarry, learning Hall’s routine and identifying men who were members of his inner circle, and longer nights working out their plans.
The first priority was to keep Blunt’s daughter, Mary, safe.
Upstairs, the sound of heavy feet landing on the floor told him that Justin was awake also. By his estimation, the two of them had only had about three hours’ sleep.
There was a lot of planning needed if they were going to catch Hall and put an end to his scheme, and there was one person he needed to bring into his confidence if this was going to work.
Robin rose and put away the cot, then set about reviving the fire in the stove and setting a kettle over it. The soft grey light of dawn was getting brighter. It was about six o’clock by his estimation—too early to go home and far too early to pay calls.
What he really wanted was breakfast.
Eggs. At least two.
Perhaps three.
Mrs. Rolf should be up and about at the vicarage, and she might be persuaded to feel sorry for two bachelors and give them a half-a-dozen. Robin smiled at the thought.
Rachel would likely still be asleep. In his mind’s eye, he saw her tousled brown hair spilling across the pillow, full pink lips slightly parted…
Robin shook his head briskly before the half-formed thought of kissing her awake became something more vivid in his mind.
He headed outside into the fresh, chilled morning air and took a lungful to clear his head, then followed the sound of clucking chickens. Robin let himself into their yard and strolled to their coop. Through the slats, freshly laid eggs waited.
“A fox in the henhouse, I see.”
He started and turned, inwardly cursing at having been caught unawares. Rachel stood there with a basket in both hands, her expression amused. A lock of hair escaped from a ribbon that tied her hair away from her face.
She used one hand to sweep it back over her ear and Robin felt a sudden longing to have done that for her himself.
Rachel giggled. “Cat got your tongue?”
Robin offered a sheepish grin in return.
“You see, I was…” he began, glancing across to Justin’s cottage.
Rachel’s grin broadened. “Oh no, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Captain. How two bachelors choose to spend their evenings is not for the knowledge of a humble spinster.”
She stepped around him and released the latch to the coop. Robin stepped back to avoid being stampeded as chickens spilled out, rushing around him to start pecking at the grass. One of the hens managed to find a sluggish worm, and soon a squabble erupted.
“I suppose you and Lieutenant Weatherall would like some eggs for breakfast.”
Robin looked around for Rachel. She was already inside the coop, gathering the eggs.
“If you can spare some, two poor bachelors would be eternally grateful.”
“I’m sure we can oblige. The girls have laid well overnight.”
Rachel backed out of the coop and into Robin’s chest. She gasped with surprise. Eggs rattled in the basket. Robin steadied it by placing his hand over hers. It was close to an embrace, but not quite, not as he found himself longing to do.
“Careful,” he said softly, near her ear. “We wouldn’t want to lose something precious.”
Rachel slowly turned. Her soft brown eyes, opened wide, looked into his and then went deeper, as though she had touched his heart, his soul—certainly that primitive maleness that had now roused itself.
How much did he want to kiss her right now? Her own unguarded expression told him that she would have no objections if he did just that.
But.
But, but, but…
Robin pulled himself together and let out a long sigh. When he looked at Rachel again, her expression was composed.
“I need to speak to you on a matter of some gravity,” he said urgently, “but I need to do so alone, without risk that we will be overheard.”
Rachel seemed to catch his mood. Her expression revealed surprise, revelation, before settling on resolve.
She knew! She knew his secret.
Robin’s heart tumbled a few beats. Delight and fear mingled. He ignored his feelings and pressed on.
“I can’t explain here and now, as much I want to,” he continued. “And I am committed to attend Penelope’s at-home today. Can you meet me at four o’clock at Justin’s cottage?”
It was clear to him that Rachel had questions. Of course she did. Any sensible person would. He waited for her to ask them. Instead, she nodded once.
Relief flooded his being. Before he could check himself, Robin leaned over the basket of eggs between them, cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. Thoroughly.
The soft lips that he’d once touched with his finger, he now touched with his lips, and they were as soft and pliant as he’d dreamed.
“Thank you,” he whispered as he pulled away from her. Robin’s eyes remained on hers as he pulled out four eggs from the basket.
He held them up to show her what he had taken. “You’ve stopped two grown men from starving.”
Rachel’s expression, which had regarded him gravely just moments before, now dissolved to laughter.
“Go on, you scamp, don’t let it be said that hospitality has ever been denied here.”
Robin grinned and bowed formally before heading back to Justin’s cottage, his heart feeling a lot lighter than it had before. There were no other women in the whole world like Rachel Pendleton, and he was glad of it.