The Smuggler and the Society Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

gang-pressed onto a frigate and never see land again! So when the Army recruiters come through, he jumped up to volunteer. Didn’t mind doing his part to put Boney away, but wanted to be able to come home afterward, take care of Ma and us kids and tend the family business.’
    â€˜The family business being free-trading?’ Honoria asked.
    Tamsyn blushed again. ‘Helping Pa run the inn, mostly, along with some fishing, miss. As for anything else, as folks around here will tell you, ’tis best if you don’t look too close nor ask too many questions. In general, the revenuers leave everyone alone, long as old Mr Marshall gets his cut regular. That man who ran his skiff on the rocks today was a new man.’
    â€˜Who wouldn’t be around to look closely or ask questions any longer, if Mr Hawksworth hadn’t intervened.’
    â€˜True, but the Hawk being such a good captain, I don’t think anyone hereabouts will hold it against him.’
    Before Honoria could exclaim about someone being censored for saving, rather than taking, a life, Tamsyn paused to utter a sigh. ‘And he’s as handsome as he is skilful! So tall, with them big broad shoulders and eyes so blue, you’d think they held the whole sky inside.’
    â€˜Why, Tamsyn, you’re quite the poet!’
    The maid’s blush deepened. ‘They are ever so blue. All the maids—not just here, but from Padstow to Polperro, Dickin says!—have set their caps for him. Though as yet, he’s not shown a partiality for any particular lass,’ she added, her expression brightening.
    So Tamsyn was among those smitten by the handsome captain. As for singling out one particular lady among the many apparently vying for his attention, Honoria suspected dryly that Mr Hawksworth wasn’t in any hurry to make a choice.
    Replaying in her mind’s eye that bold dive into the swift-moving water and the tricky swim towing the struggling mariner, she had to agree that in this instance, he had lived up to the dashing image Tamsyn had described.
    Recalling the intimate lilt of his voice, the admittedly intense blue of his gaze, she felt another quiver in the pit of her stomach. She sighed, unable to help sympathizing a bit with all the infatuated maidens.
    Not that she had any intention of following their lead. Besides, except for that chance encounter at the beach, it was highly unlikely that the niece of Miss Foxe of Foxeden Manor would be rubbing shoulders with the captain of a smuggling vessel, no matter how locally celebrated.
    As she pulled her chemise over her blessedly warm, clean, naked body, for an instant she felt again the brigand’s intense blue-eyed gaze, unabashedly staring at her through that all-too-thin drape of wet linen.
    A little sizzle hissed and burned across her skin.
    Resolutely, she shook off the sensation. Dismissing any further thoughts of the rogue who’d inspired it, she let Tamsyn lace her stays.

Chapter Three
    T wo days later, Honoria accompanied Aunt Foxe to church in Sennlack. A local curate normally served the small parish, but occasionally the bishop from Exeter came to conduct the services. In honour of that visiting dignitary, an acquaintance of many years, Miss Foxe had elected to drive to town rather than remain at home to conduct her own private devotions, as she had the previous Sundays since Honoria’s arrival.
    Having been through the village only when her carriage halted at the Gull’s Roost for directions to Foxeden Manor the day of her arrival, Honoria was looking forward to visiting the town and viewing the inside of the rustic stone church. Except for her walks along the cliffs, she’d not left the manor’s grounds since her arrival.
    After the service, the congregation filed out, shaking hands with the rector and the bishop before they departed or stood in small groups chatting. Honoria recognized the man currently speaking with the vicar as the