Page 25 of The Moonstone Major
After a few hours of labor, he returned to his quarters and hastily washed up, for he was due to return to Westgate Hall by early evening. From his open window, he could hear one of his sergeants drilling the men to keep them from remaining idle now that the unloading of the wagons was completed.
The day had grown hotter and the wind was nonexistent.
He frowned, not liking that his men were still in full sun and there was not so much as the gasp of a breeze around to grant them respite. He needed these soldiers fit for tomorrow and had no intention of allowing his subordinate officers to exhaust them. He understood that boredom often led to short tempers, and he did not want his men fighting over nothing.
But having them march in this heat was no answer.
He hurried back downstairs and stepped into the courtyard. “Sergeant Ames, take the men down to the beach for a swim.”
“Yes, sir.” The sergeant gave a deft salute. “Right, you scurvy knaves! You heard the major.”
The men let out a cheer and moved as fast as Ducky had when disappearing from town.
Ames was a good man and managed to keep the men in order as they stowed their weapons and then trotted in an organized column down to the beach.
Having no desire to study their naked arses, Fionn retrieved Sophocles and rode out of town at a steady lope. He was too early for the supper invitation, but one of the things he liked most about Moonstone Landing was all its hidden coves. Dozens were tucked away along the coast and most were sheltered by rock formations that allowed for privacy.
Even the fort had its own private cove where the soldiers could swim without getting gawked at by the villagers. Not that any of his men would care, especially if ladies were doing the gawking.
All it took were a few large rocks to separate the fort’s beach from the rest of the natural harbor. This was how the entire stretch of shoreline had also formed, soft sand beaches with overlooking cliffs and natural rock outcroppings that reached out like gentle hands toward the sea.
Everyone owning a manor house along the coast also got their stretch of private beach.
He rode to one of the more isolated spots and settled his large frame upon one of the flatter rocks in the outcropping. Trees dangled precariously overhead to cast shade upon him as he looked out over the glistening water.
A light breeze stirred the waves so that they formed white, foamy crests.
It was quite a sight, one he never thought to see while struggling to survive in the filthy streets of London. He closed his eyes and listened to those waves gently breaking against the rocks and lapping the sandy shore.
All was quiet save for the occasional caw of a gull or kestrel circling over the cove in search of fish for their supper.
He liked the solitude and the silence. It allowed him time to think.
Mostly of Chloe, because his brain could not seem to keep her out of his thoughts.
He also wondered what would happen between her and Lord Claymore. So far, she seemed to be resisting his attentions. Not that it signified anything, for she had only met the viscount today.
And nothing would change his own circumstances. No matter how elegant he might look in his uniform or how proper his demeanor, he was still a baseborn pauper.
Which made the news Ducky had related all the more confusing.
Viscount Brennan had died several years ago, so why were his heirs now trying to harm him?
Chapter Six
“Chloe, what areyou doing up here?” Fionn asked, surprised to encounter her in his bedchamber at Moonstone Cottage. Several days had passed since his moving into the place, and a full week since the incident with Lord Claymore’s runaway phaeton.
“I’m sorry. I did not expect you to be here. I thought your duties were taking up all your time.”
“They are.” He had looked in on Chloe the day following the incident, and then returned later in the evening to dine with her and her family. But ever since then, he had gone out of his way to avoid her, hoping absence might diminish his longing for her.
Unfortunately, that had not gone according to plan.
First of all, it seemed his heart would not allow it.
In addition, Dr. Hewitt had taken it upon himself to stop by his office every day to report on her improvement. His afternoons now consisted of staring distractedly out of his office window in anticipation of the doctor’s appearance.
He craved every bit of news about Chloe, which was how he learned Lord Claymore had taken to visiting Chloe every day.
