Page 20 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

“Someone has done a small bit of work at some time in the past,” Derrek said, using a spade to dislodge some particularly thick brambles from the garden bed by the side of the cottage before tossing the offending vegetation onto a pile behind him. “There are weeds and brambles everywhere, but they could be much worse.”

Jeremy scooped to pick up the discarded growth so that he could walk it to the refuse pile he’d created beyond the garden in the trees. “You do not suppose whomever did the gardening might come back and find us here, do you?” he asked.

Derrek chuckled, a sound Jeremy was coming to love. “Doubtful,” he said. “Maidstone’s staff likely has far better things to do.”

Jeremy nodded, praying that Derrek was right. They’d only just arrived and spent a single night together in the cottage, but already Jeremy deemed the time they had together in seclusion to be lovely and worthy of preservation. The hours they’d spent there so far were so unlike his ordinary days, but he still felt a sense of rightness in the way he and Derrek worked together, ate together, slept together, and more or less did everything in tandem.

Jeremy could not remember the last time he’d felt as if he had any sort of partnership with anyone. Supervising the boys in his shop was one thing, but it did not feel the way gardening with Derrek did. He’d been longing to find someone to share his tailoring business with for some time, not only because business was thriving and growing beyond his single capacity, but because he liked the feeling of sharing something with someone he liked.

“What is that smile for?” Derrek asked as they cleaned up from their morning’s labor and prepared to venture off to wherever the nearest village could be found. “I did not think the fresh air would agree with a lifelong London man quite so much.”

He was teasing, and Jeremy laughed. “It’s fresher air than I’ve ever had,” he answered, washing his hands at the pump, “but I like it.” He let his smile linger on Derrek’s handsome face and roguish look, which appeared even more roguish with the sweat and dirt of his labors, not to mention unshaved stubble, before continuing with, “I enjoy working with someone at a task. For some time, I have worked alone.”

Derrek hummed, a heat in his eyes like he had taken Jeremy to mean something else entirely. “You have your boys at the shop, do you not?”

“They are good lads, but they are subordinates, not partners,” Jeremy answered. “I think I should like to have a partner.”

Instead of images of toiling away in the shop with another talented tailor, fantasies of him and Derrek getting up in the morning and tidying their bedchamber together, enjoying meals together, and walking about town together sprung to his mind. So did images of the two of them tangled up as they’d inadvertently been that morning.

“It’s a pity I’m ham-fisted with a needle and thread,” Derrek laughed, then clapped Jeremy on the shoulder. “Come. Let’s find a village market and purchase supplies.”

Jeremy sucked in a breath as Derrek’s hand squeezed him, then followed like he was a puppy as Derrek headed back to the house to fetch their coats and some coins. It must have been the wild, country air causing him to lose his senses, but seeing as it was better than fearing for his life at the hands of Conroy and his accomplice, Jeremy wasn’t certain he minded.

The walk into the nearest village was a pleasant one. The skies cleared just before they set out, and the sun beamed down on the picturesque landscape of Kent as they passed from the forest to the fields surrounding Maidstone Close. Derrek knew more about the history of the house than Jeremy would have suspected he would, but the details of the family’s recent history were fascinating.

“That was when Moreland called me in to help bring the whole, sorry thing to an end,” he said as the village came into sight as they crested a small hill, finishing his story of his previous visit to the estate. “Linton was guilty as sin, of course, and his wretched son, Lord Albert, more or less admitted to forcing himself onto Moreland’s sister. Between the evidence Ashton and Billy presented and my charming presence,” he sent Jeremy a sly, sideways grin, “we convinced the both of them to leave England for a long holiday on the Continent.”

“Do you think they will stay there?” Jeremy asked as the sounds and scents of the village grew more distinct. “Might they return at some point?”

“Not if they value their lives and their freedom,” Derrek said, shaking his head. “They haven’t much to come back to at any rate. Linton alienated all of his friends, and I’m not sure Lord Albert had any to begin with.”

Jeremy nodded at that sad statement. It must have been a terrible thing to have no friends. Not that he felt particularly sorry for such horrible men.

His attention was taken minutes later as they reached the edge of the village. It was like something out of a painting, or even a fairy tale, at least to Jeremy’s city mind. The houses were all small and quaint. The shops some of them contained on their ground floors were bright and busy. The scent of baking bread came from one and shaved wood came from another. Everyone around them was dressed far more simply than the people in London, but they fit their surroundings beautifully.

“Looks like it’s not a market day per se,” Derrek said, pausing in the middle of the main street with his hands on his hips, looking around. “We’ll have to find all the things we need from individual shops.”

“That will not be a problem at all,” Jeremy said with a smile. “I should rather like to investigate this place.”

Derrek laughed and thumped his back lightly, letting his hand rest there for a minute. “I’ll make a country boy out of you yet,” he said, adding one of his salacious winks.

Jeremy blushed and beamed with pride, leaning slightly closer to Derrek.

At least, he did until he noticed the narrow-eyed look of a passing villager. The man was roughly dressed and carried some sort of farming implement over his shoulder. He shuffled his steps a bit as he watched Jeremy and Derrek, then shook his head, spit in the dirt, and walked on, muttering something.

Uneasiness pooled in Jeremy’s stomach and he stepped away from Derrek. He cleared his throat and said, “We are not in London anymore,” in a quiet voice. “We need to have a care for how we present ourselves.”

“Because some old man didn’t like what he saw?” Derrek asked.

He was making light of the situation, but Jeremy could see he had enough good sense in him to keep his distance as the two of them walked on.

Most of the villagers they saw as they started their shopping weren’t as suspicious or standoffish as the farmer. Even more people warmed to them when Derrek brought out the sack of coins they’d brought with them and started spending them on necessary supplies. Within half an hour, Jeremy had a large basket filled with essentials looped over his arm and was greeted at each new shop they entered with smiles and expectation.

“Now that we’re well stocked,” Derrek said once the shopping was done and they’d paused to sit on a bench outside a baker’s, eating delicious meat pies for their luncheon, “I need to investigate ways I might be able to get a message to London if and when I need to.”

“Do villages like this have errand boys to hire or coaching inns?” Jeremy asked.

Derrek pinched his face as he looked around. “That is precisely what I need to ascertain,” he said. He took one last bite of his pie, swallowed it with a gulp of the weak ale they’d procured from the small pub at the end of the high street, then clapped a hand on Jeremy’s thigh before standing. “I’ll return these to the pub,” he took Jeremy’s empty glass as well, “and ask about messengers and the like. Will you be alright on your own for a spell?”

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