Jed wanted to say something smart, but what came out was, “I knew you’d be beautiful like this.”
Solomon let out a sound that was almost a sob.Jed bent his head again, working with lips and hand, hard and fast, until Solomon’s seed flooded his mouth.
He swallowed and sat back on his heels, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.Solomon lay sprawled on his back, panting, spent prick nestled against his thigh.He was thoroughly dishevelled, Jed saw with satisfaction.
After a moment, Solomon stirred.“Jed.My God.”He struggled to sit up.“What do you—”
“No, stay there,” Jed ordered, his hand on his own yard.“Let me—”
Solomon let his head fall back again.His hooded eyes met Jed’s.“Do your worst,” he murmured.
His low voice seared through Jed, raising pebbles on his skin.It took only a few swift strokes, and then he was coming all over Solomon’s chest, watching Solomon’s lips curve in a satisfied smile.
Jed collapsed on him, limp and wrecked, and felt Solomon’s arms come around him.
Chapter Seven
A beetle crept over the crumbling shaft of the abandoned waterwheel.Jed watched its progress among the vines and weeds coiled around the wood.Only twenty years ago that crushing mill had been brand new.
A hollow feeling had settled uncomfortably in his stomach.He had thought that this morning he would be lying snugly in bed in his childhood cottage, not standing at the old pithead among the smelting works’ scattered remains.
Behind him, a twig cracked.He turned to see that Solomon had emerged from the building where they’d slept and was coming across the grass to join him, haversack on his back.
The knot in Jed’s chest loosened.Not everything had gone badly yesterday.They had woken tangled together, closely entwined.It was something Jed had known only a few times before in his life, and never with someone he expected to see again after that morning.
“Ready to leave?”Solomon asked when he joined Jed.
“Not really, no.Wouldn’t mind staying up here forever, to tell the truth.”
Solomon’s expression softened.
Jed settled his haversack over his shoulder.“Best get on, though, hadn’t we?”
They entered the woods and tramped through the undergrowth until they reached a dirt track that wound its way past isolated moorland farms.
Last night already felt like a fading dream, chased away by the harsh light of the morning.Jed wished he could let his mind dwell on the memory of it.Savour it.But instead, his thoughts kept circling around to his damned troubles.
“I can’t fight Penwick,” he said abruptly.“Much as I’d gladly see him in hell.Even if he weren’t the Squire, he’s my brother-in-law.And… I think Carrie is happy.I think he’s good to her.”
Solomon murmured in agreement.“He is a sanctimonious prick, though.”
Jed had to laugh.“He is that.”
They stopped talking to ford a stream, picking their way across slippery rocks.
Once they were on the other side, Jed added, “But I bloody well want my horse back.”
“Penwick said something about his man of business.Do you know who that is?”
“I reckon it’s Mr Morgan of High Bray.As soon as may be, I’ll go there and see him.”There was something else on his mind, but he had been hesitating to bring it up, suspecting it was a subject Solomon would sooner avoid.“There’s another thing.My sister mentioned a Lieutenant Vaughan of the Impress Service.Is that the same fellow as nearly caught us at the farm?”
Solomon stopped walking.“Where is he?”
“She said as how the gang have set up their Rondy at Minehead, so I expect he’s there.”He stopped walking too, turning to face Solomon.
The lines around Solomon’s mouth had tightened.“How far is it from Barnstaple to Minehead, would you say?”
“By sea?Or over the moors?Minehead is thirty miles that way, and”—he turned and pointed in the opposite direction—“Barnstaple is ten miles that way.It’s a fair long journey overland—”