‘Enough, madam!' Captain Armstrong's voice cracked like a whip across the room, bringing immediate silence. ‘You have said enough to convict yourself of perjury. You will be taken to York, together with your husband, to answer all the charges.' He waved to the other officers to take them away, waiting until the door closed behind them all to turn to Ross.
‘A good day's work, my friend, and it will be profitable, too, for you. With the woman's confession I think you have every chance that your prize money will be returned, and there is a reward for breaking up this little spy ring. Besides that, I visited, er, friends while I was in London. The blasphemy charge has been stricken from your record and you are reinstated as a captain in his Majesty's navy.'
‘But the Dark Rider-' put in Charity.
Captain Armstrong regarded her with a serious gaze.
‘Madam, I know of no evidence to link Captain Durden with highway robbery, do you?'
‘Why, no, none at all.'
‘Then the allegations are merely further evidence of Magistrate Weston's malicious intent to smear the name of this honest officer. And as for you, madam-' his eyes softened ‘-you need not worry about that contract. It was signed under duress and is therefore worthless. You are free to return to the stage, Mrs Weston. I saw you play at Scarborough and, if you will forgive my saying so, it is where you belong.'
‘Oh, no, it isn't.' Ross took her hand. ‘She belongs with me, as my wife.'
Charity had been listening to it all and feeling slightly bemused, but now she tried to collect her wits. Her heart clenched as she saw the warm glow in Ross's eyes.
‘Are you sure?' she asked him anxiously. ‘Are you sure you want to marry someone whose father is a traitor?'
He pulled her closer.
‘My darling girl, I have never been more certain of anything in my life.' He drew her into his arms and kissed her. She responded eagerly, leaning into him, feeling the hard arousal of his body against her own.
When he released her mouth she remained within the comfort of his arms, her head thrown back against his shoulder. He raised one hand and ran his fingers through the tumbling golden locks.
‘"If a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her",' he murmured lovingly, then said with a sigh, ‘I should take you home.'
She gazed up at him and said shyly, ‘I am home, Ross. I am with you.'
She saw the flame leap in his dark eyes. He swooped on her again, kissing her with a ruthless efficiency that left her weak.
‘Ahem.'
They broke apart, Charity flushing vividly and Ross giving a self-conscious laugh when they remembered Captain Armstrong's presence.
‘I take it you will not be escorting the prisoner to York, Durden?'
‘Ah, no. I have a more pressing engagement, unless you have need of me?'
‘I shall leave a couple men here to search the house, but I think a half dozen sailors will be able to get those two safely to their destination.' He looked at them, a quizzical smile in his eyes. ‘May I be the first to wish you joy?'
‘Oh, no,' cried Charity, flustered. ‘That is-'
‘Yes,' Ross interrupted her, grinning. ‘Thank you, John!'
‘Good. Then I will be off-'
‘Wait, John, I-' Ross turned to Charity. ‘Do you have a cloak, dearest?'
‘Y-yes, it must still be in the study.'
‘Then fetch it, my love, while I accompany Captain Armstrong to the door.'
* * *
Charity missed the warmth and strength of Ross's arm about her as she made her way to the study to collect her cloak. The room was in chaos, papers and pens scattered over the desk where Phineas had tried to reach across and grab her, one chair overturned and the lectern still on the floor. The family Bible was half-hidden under the desk, one of the covers hanging off. She had challenged her father, fought against the terror he had always instilled in her, and she had survived. He could not hurt her anymore; she could forget him and get on with her own life. Turning away, she picked up her cloak and went back to the hall.
Ross was in the doorway, talking earnestly with Captain Armstrong, but they broke off when they saw her coming towards them. The captain gave her a smile and a brief salute before striding away. Ross opened his arms and she walked into his embrace as if it was the most natural thing in the world. For a moment he held her close, his cheek resting on her head, then he took her arm and said briskly, ‘Home, then, my love!'
* * *
It took some time to find a carriage to carry them to Wheelston, and dawn was already breaking by the time they arrived.
They spent the journey wrapped in each other's arms, and in the short periods of time between kisses Charity explained to Ross just what had happened to her in the days they had been apart.
‘So Phineas never harmed you?'
She heard the anxiety in his voice. ‘No. He had to let me go back to Allingford to prepare for my final performance.' She shuddered. ‘If Hannah had not been so desperate to have the money from that as well as everything else, he would have shaved my head as soon as I had signed the forms.'
‘Poor love.' His arms tightened into a crushing embrace. ‘Phineas will never harm you again, I promise you that.'
‘And you,' she said when she could speak. ‘What have you been doing?'
A laugh rumbled in his chest.
‘Riding! I went to London and met up with Armstrong, who had already arranged the whole, so then it was back here to arrest Phineas-praying all the time that he had not hurt you.'
‘He did not,' she told him as the carriage bounced over the Wheelston drive and came to a halt. ‘Not a mark.'
‘No?' He jumped down and held out his arms to her. ‘I am going to inspect you, inch by inch, to make sure that is true.'
She shivered deliciously, and with a laugh he stole another kiss before leading her into the house. A shadowy, expectant silence wrapped around Charity as Ross led her up the stairs. He stopped outside the door to the room where he had held her prisoner.
‘I meant it, Charity, when I said I want you to be my wife. I love you, you know.'
She felt the light, breathless flutter of her heart when she heard those words, but anxiety shadowed her happiness. She could not believe he had considered the consequences of marriage to Phineas Weston's daughter. She reached up to cup his face with her hands, lovingly scanning every detail of his face.
‘I love you, Ross. That is all that matters for now. Let us leave everything else until the morning.'
‘Gladly, but...' He touched her lips with his own, a soft, gentle caress. ‘I will not presume... That is, if you would rather sleep in here?'
‘Alone?'
‘Yes.'
She slipped her arms about his neck. ‘I never want to sleep alone again.'
With something between a groan and a growl he swept her up and carried her the short distance to his bedroom. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder while the thought of what was to come filled her body with a thrilling anticipation. When he laid her gently on the bed she clung to him, pulling him down to cover his face with hot, fervent kisses, which he returned with a passion.
His hands stroked over her body, but when they became entangled in her heavy cloak she was as eager as he to shed the encumbrance. He bade her lie still while he untied her cloak and then wrestled with the ribbons around the neck of her gown.
‘But this is foolish,' she told him, her voice trembling between laughter and delight as his fingers danced across her breast. ‘I shall still have to get up to remove my clothes.'
‘Quiet,' he growled.
She lay very still as he gently peeled away her bodice to reveal the twin mounds of her breasts rising above her corset. Under his hot gaze the nipples seemed to strain against the chemise, and when his fingers pushed aside the thin covering they became achingly hard. She gave a low moan as his mouth closed over one hot tip and her body arched when his tongue circled the nub and drew a response from deep within her body. She was burning with need; the layers of clothing irritated her tingling skin. She tore open Ross's shirt and slid her hands inside, running them over the solid contours of his chest, exulting when she felt his nipples harden beneath her fingers. She played with them as he had done with her, circling, gently pinching until he broke off from the delicious torment he was inflicting upon her breast.
‘What are you doing to me?'