Page 113 of Counting on a Countess
When they finally broke the kiss, she said in a hurried whisper, “We’ll have to act quickly. Jory keeps avoiding me, but he’ll talk to you. Tell him you want to speak with him about a business matter, then offer to buy Chei Owr. He’ll quote you an exorbitant price, but if you offer him a lump sum in cash, he’ll have to accept your offer.”
Kit chuckled. “It’s a shame we didn’t have you on the Peninsula. With your clearheaded tactical expertise, the War would have been over in a fortnight.”
“I had other battles to fight,” she said.
“And you’ll go on fighting them,” he added. “But not alone.”
Energy surged through her, making her feel as though she could lift the heaviest boulder or climb the steepest peak.
Someone stood beside her. Someone loved her. Things she had yearned for, while believing that her wishes were hopeless, had finally come to pass.
Chapter 29
Much as Kit wanted to spirit Tamsyn off to the much-touted inns in Perranporth and share a bed—along with a night of athletic, imaginative lovemaking—he had to make an offer on the house as soon as possible.
The first order of business after that would be getting Tamsyn’s aunt and uncle out. Once the loathsome Lord and Lady Shawe were gone, he and Tamsyn could concentrate on moving the latest shipment of contraband. There was also the matter of finally making repairs to the crumbling manor.
When he’d been fighting overseas, he’d made certain that he had clearly defined objectives arranged in the most logical and achievable order. It saved him and his men from poorly executed, disastrous missions. He applied that same principle now. The stakes were just as high.
He and Tamsyn had hoped to talk with Lord Shawe as soon as possible, but he was absent all day. And when Kit and Tamsyn went down to supper that night, Lord Shawe didn’t join them at the dining table.
“Where’s Jory?” Tamsyn asked her aunt.
Lady Shawe took a delicate sip of soup, dabbed her lips with a napkin, and then set the square of fabric down very deliberately before answering in a lofty voice, “He’s in Newquay. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
Clearly, there was nothing to be done until the man himself was back from the neighboring town. So they endured another tedious dinner.
When Lady Shawe excused herself to retire for the night, Kit rose and bowed with minimal politeness. Once the baroness had quit the room, he turned to Tamsyn. “How do you manage it?”
“Manage what?”
He glanced around, then spoke in a low voice. “Sharing a roof with these people when you’re hiding a secret from them. It makes my gut churn.”
“My greatest challenge was keeping them from finding out,” she answered in a whisper. “For months, it gnawed at me. I barely ate and couldn’t sleep.”
His heart contracted, imagining her so alone and so troubled, with little solace.
“But I overcame that fear,” she continued lowly. “Because I had to.” Darkness crept into her eyes. “It’s not nearly as easy keeping a secret from someone you care about. It cuts you over and over again as though you’re plunging a knife into your own chest.”
He strode to her and raised her chin for a kiss. “We’re done with hiding from each other. We’re a united front now.”
“We are,” she answered.
When Kit walked Tamsyn to her bedchamber, he lingered at the door.
“Not sharing a bed with you is a bitter pill to swallow,” he muttered.
“We could try evicting Gwen from her room,” Tamsyn suggested. “But even if we could get her to leave, I don’t want to sleep on a mattresstheyshared.” She shuddered.
“A fair point,” he conceded. “But I have a solution. It isn’t perfect, but I’m used to conditions that aren’t ideal.” With that, he strode to his bedroom, gathered up armfuls of bedding, and marched back to Tamsyn’s room.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he arranged the blankets and a pillow on the floor next to her bed.
“Making up a pallet, of course.”
“But the floor is bare wood,” she protested. “That can’t be comfortable.”
He shot her a look. “Compared to some of the places I slept on the Continent, this is luxurious.”
