Lady Fugitive (31 page)

They announced together, "Because
Morgan's going to be Morgan whatever you do."

They had a good laugh, and then Boyd
sobered. "You came all this way alone, in that condition?"

"No. Actually Morgan and I hired a
maid in Philadelphia, and she made the trip with me. She's cleaning up the
cottage as we speak."

"Ah, good plan. He wasn't keen on
moving in there, but we needed the additional income from renting out the rooms
he always claimed for himself at the inn. Proved quite popular accommodations,
at our top price, so he's had to make the best of things."

Boyd's whole demeanor softened.
"This is wonderful, Rachel. The child. A family. It will completely change
Morgan's life. The granary, though…that is a sticky bit. Because you're quite
right, he's not going to just thank you and go on as if transitions had never
happened."

Richelle looked thoughtful, and then she
dared make the suggestion that had been swirling around in the back of her
mind. "What if you don't tell him the new owner is me? If he thought some
man had purchased it, and was willing to hire him as agent to fill it, he'd do
it, wouldn't he? Say some man doesn't know local farmers, doesn't want to be
directly involved, but has learned the area has this fellow called the
Bargainer. If a stranger were to dangle a commission, would Morgan be
interested?"

"We need the funds. Of course he
would. And it would play into his traditional role…you know, you're rather too
clever, Mrs. Tremayne. You want me to bait this trap, don't you?"

"He'll be back tomorrow afternoon,
you said. Tell him the new owner of the granary wishes to meet with him. Just
don't say who that person is. I'll take it from there."

Boyd had been seated at her former desk.
Now he got to his feet. "I can get him to go, but you know he's liable to
go off like a powder keg once you light his fuse."

Richelle accepted his arm and let him
see her to the office door. She pecked his cheek. "I know. And believe it
or not, I've missed the fireworks. Say hello to Chrissandra for me. Your wife
now, isn't she?"

Boyd nodded, smiling warmly.
"Indeed, and we're very happy. I wish the same for you and my recalcitrant
partner. Best of luck to you."

Richelle took her time crossing the
village square, soaking in the sights and smells, the ambience of the place she
hadn't realized she'd genuinely missed until her return to it. Dear Boyd.
Chrissy, who was now his bride. The cottage.

She'd truly become attached to the
place, and was certain Lorella would like it too. Along with the stray dog, who
seriously needed a name as well as a bath. Otherwise he'd be thrown right back
out by his new master.

At that thought, Richelle pictured
Boyd's expression and sincerity as he wished her the best of luck in dealing
with Morgan. She'd need it.

* * *

"Morgan! I thought I might have to
visit the pub and hunt you down," Boyd announced as his partner entered
the office the next day. "I've been contacted by the new owner of the
granary, some London investor." Herding Morgan toward his private office,
Boyd went on. "We've been made an interesting proposition. Sit down."

Morgan scowled, a bitter taste rising in
the back of his throat. The last thing he wanted to hear about was someone else
holding
his
granary. "I've just made it back and feeling not at my
best. Can't we discuss this tomorrow?"

"This won't take long," Boyd
assured him. "Seems your reputation precedes you, my friend. The new owner
asked if you'd lease out storage for a commission."

"Piss on him! He bought it, let him
lease it."

"At this juncture we can hardly
turn our noses up at any opportunity for revenue, can we? We both know that
exercise in the Colonies cost us dearly, along with the freight setbacks. This
could be a chance to regain at least part of what we lost. And I think it would
be good for you to be out circulating. You can easily fill that granary."

Morgan narrowed his eyes at his partner.
"You already committed me to this nonsense, didn't you? Told the man I'd
do it."

Boyd shook his head. "I merely
promised you'd ride out for a meeting there this afternoon. Can't hurt to at
least discuss the offer."

"Since when do you make promises
for me? We've always made our decisions jointly. Except for when you hired that
bloody Colonial clerk. And since you brought it up, I feel compelled to remind
you that the whole American debacle can be laid at your feet," Morgan
groused. "I suppose I've no other choice than to participate in this
'commission' scheme. I still owe you a tidy sum, as we're both well aware."

"That's not what's behind this,"
Boyd argued, looking genuinely insulted at Morgan's comment. "Perhaps you
won't get along, or the commission suggested won't be worth your time and
effort. I'm not complaining about your debt. I know you're good for it. On the
other hand, pride doesn't pay operating expenses."

Morgan scowled. "Who the hell is
this popinjay, who thinks I'll lick his boots after he bought the place out
from under me?"

"Morgan, this is the..." Boyd
counted on his fingers, "third owner since you held it. Your name's
recounted as the only one to have success with it! You know the farmers. We
have connections to help market crops in Newcastle or Sheffield. Don't be so
quick to resent someone who only thinks the best of you."

"Hmm. This fellow indicated he knew
so much about me?" Boyd mutely nodded. "All of which is why I don't
see why you'd stubbornly refuse to even greet the buyer, particularly having
come all the way from London. I believe there was some other personal business
involved, but still, it's most gracious—"

Morgan was sick of the manipulations.
"Fine, I'll ride out there and at least discuss it. Would have been nice
to be given a decent notice. I'm covered in road dust and my shirt positively
stinks."

"Perhaps you might go home and…oh
wait, you likely don't have anything clean at home, either. Morgan, old chap,
you've fallen into a rut. A ride to the granary is probably just the
thing."

Morgan paused with his hand on the
office doorknob. Boyd's last words sounded too cheery by half, and there was a
distinct gleam in Boyd's eyes that Morgan distrusted. The granary's new owner
was probably half deaf, wrinkled as a prune, incapable of riding around the
district to meet with local farmers. Unless Morgan's instincts were misleading
him due to exhaustion, there was definitely something not right about this
whole scenario.

He was road weary and in no mood to
conduct business with a newcomer. Particularly a Londoner, to whom Yorkshire
was just some vague farmland to the north, its people naught but silly
peasants.

Sighing, he mounted Phantom once more
and headed out of the village. He would listen to this Londoner's offer and try
to be polite.

Then he'd come back to Crowshaven and
tell Boyd to go straight to hell.

Morgan found Boyd was at least partially
correct. It felt good to take a ride out here, even if it was most likely a
fool's errand. He passed a grove of trees where the crows had found the remains
of a rabbit or squirrel. Some were on the ground picking at the carcass; others
were in the treetops, squawking and cawing. He remembered the ride out here
with Richelle that Sunday afternoon. They'd talked about the birds...his
plans...his dreams for the future and the village.

He frowned as he glimpsed a large canine
loping across the track ahead. Accursed mutt was likely responsible for
whatever the crows were feasting upon. The dog lowered its head and moved
toward someone at the outer edge of Morgan's vision. The figure clapped its
hands once. The hound obediently approached and sat down. Apparently the man
who owned the hound also now owned the granary. No one else was in sight.

Morgan pulled back on the reins and
peered through the dust. There was no carriage or mount, but the figure moved to
sit on the big flat rock. Morgan frowned again. The man was dressed oddly, in a
long cloak. The weather was mild, hardly cold enough for a fellow to need a
cloak. His early estimation of a feeble old man seemed accurate.

But drawing closer, he realized he was quite
mistaken. He jerked Phantom to a halt and stared in disbelief. The person
reached to pat the dog's large head, and a cascade of auburn tresses spilled
with the forward movement. A bit of gold on her left hand flashed in the late
afternoon sun.  Morgan's heart knew what his mind had only begun to grasp.

"
Richelle
?" 

Instantly the auburn head came up, and
Morgan felt the sharp stab of recognition hit him in the chest.

"Morgan! I'm so glad you came. I
wanted to talk to you alone before we go back to the village."

"I'm not working for you." 

It wasn't at all what he'd intended to
say, Morgan realized with dismay, but he'd been too stunned to think clearly.
Boyd
knew! He set me up for this.

His wife's welcoming expression didn't
change a bit. "I don't see why not. I worked for you."

Sliding out of the saddle, he tossed the
reins at the branches of a low bush. He took two strides and the dog was
instantly between him and Richelle, hackles bristling as it began to growl.

"I think we better give him a few
moments to realize you're someone I cherish," Richelle said, still
smiling. "Now, as to that business you came to discuss.
I
purchased
the granary. Fill it this harvest, and your commission will be ownership
reinstated in your name. I'll sign it over to you as soon as it's at capacity."

Morgan was flabbergasted. She'd arrived
without warning and set up this…he wasn't even sure what this was. A happy
wedded reunion, or honestly a meeting just to discuss business? "You're
bribing me with my granary?"

"Excuse me, sir, but I think I just
explained that it's
mine
. I'd sign it over here and now, but I recall
you steadfastly refused to benefit from my inheritance. I can't just
give
it to you, so I'm offering you means to attain it. You
do
want it back,
don't you?"

"Of course I bloody well want it
back!" He started to step closer, then thought the better of it as the dog
snarled once again.
Protective is too mild a term for this creature's
attitude. Wonder where she picked up the filthy beggar?

Richelle nodded, clearly pleased with
herself. "Then you
will
work. If not for me, for yourself. Good.
That makes me very happy."

"Seeing you finally back here in
Yorkshire makes me exceedingly happy. I'd do something about it, if I didn't
fear losing a leg for trying."

She laughed, and his chest loosened. She
was possibly even more beautiful than he remembered.  And her smile...He
remembered only too well its effect. Time hadn't altered the predictable
physical reaction. He was stiff as a flagpole just looking at her.

She rose from the rock, and damned dog
or not, Morgan crossed to pull her close. "Jesus, but I've missed
you," he groaned, kissing her passionately. His arms slid beneath her
cloak. He abruptly stiffened and broke their embrace. 

"Good God, you're pregnant!"

"Can't hide anything from you,
Bargainer."

"You should have written and told
me…shouldn't have come all the way out here. How in God's name did you even
get
here? Please tell me Boyd brought you or arranged something. If he let you walk
all this way, I'll have him horsewhipped. I swear I will. Maybe you should sit
down again."

She did, pulling him down on the rock
beside her. She tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. "It's so
good to be with you again. I missed you dreadfully. It truly did take longer
than I might have thought to sell everything and get affairs in order, but the
child is the other reason I had to delay sailing. The doctor said I shouldn't
risk it until he was certain everything progressed normally."

"You and the babe are all
right?"

"We're both fine. Your seed
apparently forms very solid roots. This baby has his father's strength and
determination. He kicks ferociously." She gave him a radiant smile.

Morgan stared into the distance, his
throat tight. When he finally spoke again, his voice was still rough with
emotion. "I'd be lying if I tried to convince you that I've been doing
well since my return here. I'm afraid I've taken to drinking again, rather more
often than you'd like. I've been staying at that bloody cottage, hating it
because you're not there with me. Boyd pointed out that my garments are all in
need of laundering and I'm…I've…I've been lost, Richelle."

He stared down into her eyes. "You
kept part of my soul and I've barely been able to function without it. Now
you've brought it back with…so much more. I don't know if I'm ready for all of
this."

"I've had a bit more time to adjust
to the concept of becoming a parent. You've a few months yet until the birth
and fatherhood is thrust upon you. I think you'll come around."