The Man in the Buff Breeches Page 6

  “I wish I could—that would clear any suspicion of my guilt.”

  He reaches over and pats my arm, and something inside me instantly melts. “I always knew you weren’t a criminal, Shona, even after you were so rude to me at the Regency ball.”

  “I was rude!”

  “Yes. I was about to ask you to dance, then you decided to injure yourself with a fan. After which you proceeded to march over and insult my breeches and compare me to a horse. Actually that bit was okay,” he grins. “Then when that smarmy looking prick Nick monopolized you—well, you looked like you went to heaven.”

  “And ended up in hell,” I say. “I tend to do that with men.”

  “You choose the wrong ones.”

  “Yes, I know that.” I snap. “Anyway, your behaviour was pretty offensive that evening. Staring at my breasts through that quizzing glass, dressed in those provocative breeches.”

  He gives me a look of complete innocence. “They were all that was left at the hire shop. And yes, I was admiring you but if I did linger over your breasts it was entirely unintentional…”

  “Not because you had trouble locating them,” I suggest.

  He looks shocked—then grins. “I had no trouble at all. You looked adorable in that dress. Honestly, I really wanted to ask you to dance. Then Ros arrived and filled me in on the man you were with.”

  “Ros?”

  “DS Shepherd.”

  “Ah! Bo Peep—I thought she was your girlfriend.”

  He laughs. “We trained together years ago. She was working undercover the night of the ball, and we used the hotel room as a base to keep an eye on you and Nick.”

  My phone vibrates. It’s Lyn texting. Drat! She is on her way to my flat. I take a deep breath and stand up. “I have to go. Will you be okay? I mean, have you anyone to look after you when you are discharged?” Oh no, don’t go there.

  “Why, Miss Bennet, is that an offer?”

  “No! I just want to…”

  “Ease your conscience,” he finishes.

  His smile disappears, and it’s like the sun has gone in.

  “I’ll be all right,” he says. “I was due to visit my cousin in Wales. It seems a good place to recover, especially as I’ve been signed off for a week.”

  “Good. That’s fine then.”

  He is looking serious, but the warmth in his eyes caresses me. “When this is all over, Miss Bennet, perhaps you might rethink your type of boyfriend and we could start again. I could take you for a coffee and seduce you with a cream cake.”

  I ponder on the thought as my legs turn to jelly—but I’m off men. I don’t think I will trust them ever again. I store the cake thought for later contemplation and steer the conversation to a subject that will not make my heart flutter. “I am going to become a nun.” He raises his eyebrows, and his mouth falls open.

  “Goodbye.” I turn quickly and head down the ward because I don’t want to hear his reply. I am angry all of a sudden. Sodding men! They make life so complicated.

  I sit on the settee with Lyn and partake in coffee, custard creams, and a couple of paracetamol. My bunny slippers are sleepy eyed and comforting as they curl around my feet.

  Lyn has been stunned into silence with my revelations of the night’s events. Finally she speaks. “Heck, Shona, that was some date. I can’t believe that Nick he seemed so, so—”

  “Regency!” I supply.

  “It’s not funny,” she says. And as for Stephen—well I never really took to him. Too many white teeth and smiles.”

  I glare at her. I really don’t need comments like that as I already feel like the world’s worst idiot. “If only I could find that elephant he gave me.”

  Lyn frowns. “Well, surely it’s here somewhere. What did it look like?”

  It has a long trunk and four legs. “Wooden, about a foot long,” I say wearily.

  She looks around at my collection. “Any other distinguishing features?”

  “Well, you said he was an ugly beast when I unpacked it the day after we flew back from the Caribbean. I can’t remember what happened to it after that…” I stop because Lyn has turned a strange shade and is looking at me with a very guilty expression.

  “Oh heck, Shona, I think I know where it is.” She slams down her mug, causing coffee to rain over the bunnies.

  I stare at her and reach for another paracetamol. My heart has started to race. “Go on then! Where?” I prompt.

  “Remember that storm the day after we came back from holiday. We sat here watching the rain trickle down the wall over there.” She points to the corner of the window where the roof overhangs the Juliet balcony.

  “I fixed the leak that afternoon after you were called into work. I had nothing else to do so I tried to make a repair. The wood panelling is loose, and if you move it you can push the ceiling tile away. The outside tile on the overhang was damaged so I covered it on the inside with a plastic bag to make it waterproof then wedged it in place with a piece of wood—shaped like an elephant.” She bites her lip and looks warily at me. “I tried several objects: the Rubik cube, books, but the backside of the elephant was the exact fit. It was meant to be a temporary repair, but I forgot to tell you.”

  Simultaneously we haul ourselves up. Lyn stands on a chair and manipulates the wood panel by the window. After a lot of persuasion, it shifts and she pushes her arm up and removes the ceiling tile. Her head disappears through the crack, and moments later she reappears with the elephant. She climbs down and puts in on the carpet, and we peer at the mahogany coloured object in fascination.

  “Shall we try and open it?” she asks.

  “No! I think we should leave it as we found it.” I pick up my phone and punch in Bo Peep’s number.

  Bo Peep is sitting on my living room floor inspecting the rescued elephant with her colleague.

  I see nothing but a wooden elephant. She sees a smuggling implement and after a visual examination she produces a nail file and inserts it in the seam underneath the elephant’s body. After a few minutes of manipulation the elephant springs open like a chocolate egg. Plastic packets of white powder spill out. I expect her to open one to dip her finger in and taste it, but she assures me that it would be a rather stupid thing to do.

  “Cocaine—about a kilo by the look of it. No wonder he was keen to retrieve it.” Bo Peep carefully packs the drugs along with elephant into plastic bags. She then settles down to take a statement from Lyn.

  As soon as everyone has left, I text DS Salter and tell him about the elephant. On impulse I add a p.s.—Cream cakes are a wicked indulgence and should be arrested or at least cautioned. I add a kiss then hastily replace it with a smiley face.

  I check my mobile frequently for the next two days. There is no reply, and perhaps it’s for the best.

  Two weeks later, Lyn is sitting on my sofa whilst I am arranging a very expensive bowl of “please forgive me” roses from Henry, who has just returned from a business trip. He is leaning against the breakfast bar looking miserable.

  “I’m really sorry, Shona. I should never have brought that creep Nick along that night, but he seemed such a good sport on the golf course.”

  I walk over and give him a quick hug. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. It’s okay. I was the biggest fool in all this.”

  Lyn is not so forgiving; she looks daggers at him. “Good sport! You should have found out his handicap—the fact he was a vicious crook.”

  Henry raises his eyebrows. “Well at least I didn’t stuff a kilo of cocaine in the roof to stop a leak.” He smirks, and I am instantly reminded of a certain detective who I am desperate to forget.

  “Far healthier use for it. I kept it off the streets,” Lyn replies.

  I grin and hold up a hand. “Don’t have a domestic on my account. I am the i
diot in the whole sorry episode. Picking boyfriends is certainly my handicap.”

  Quite frankly, I want them to leave. Even though I love them to bits, seeing them together just reminds me that they have something I yearn for—someone to love and trust and argue with. Even quarrelling they smoulder. They are right now giving each other a “wait until I get you home look”—to an evening full of steamy sex I suspect.

  The doorbell rings. “That will be the pizza delivery,” I say. “Sorry, I didn’t order for three.”

  Henry heads into the hall. “I’ll get it.”

  Lyn takes my hint and makes a face as she rises. “I hate the way you can eat pizza for England and still virtually become invisible when you stand sideways.” She gives me a hug. “Honestly, Shona, when I think of what that Nick did to you,” she shudders, “the orgasmic looking bastard.”

  “Ah, caught you talking about me.”

  There is a small explosion in my chest which radiates heat down to my toes, and it is not because of the shock of hearing Lyn swear. I turn. DS Sam Salter stands in front of me, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. His golden hair has been cut quite short and he wears a grey jacket, white T-shirt, and his customary smirk.

  I feel a surge of unexplained emotion which makes my eyes prick with tears. I step around him and virtually push Lyn and Henry towards the door. Lyn is frowning, and I whisper in her ear. “It’s okay, he’s police remember—a good guy.”

  Henry is giving DS Salter a very parental sort of glare. “Take care, Shona. Let me know if you need anything,” he says before he is pulled out the door.

  “How was Wales? You didn’t stay long.”

  “Wet, and I wanted to get back before you took your vows. I thought I would take you out for a spin in my curricle, Miss Bennet, if you are not too busy.” He points out the window where a blue convertible is parked. “Although you might need to smarten up a bit.” He takes the Regency quizzing glass out of his pocket and inspects me up and down, then lingers on the bunny slippers.

  “Interesting,” he smirks.

  Oh well, it’s too late to hide them. I consider his offer.

  “No, I don’t want to go for a drive in a curricle, flick fans, or dress up in stupid impractical clothes.”

  “Oh, that is disappointing,” he says, looking like a little boy lost all of a sudden.

  “Are you off duty?” I take a step closer and look up into brown eyes that have now turned wary.

  “Yes, half an hour ago.”

  “Excellent!” I stand on tiptoe, haul him forward by his lapels, and kiss him. I desperately need to know what that smirk tastes like.

  “Why, Shona, I rather think that I prefer the modern woman as well.” Then his arms are around me, and the weight of the recent terrible events melt about us. And like Maria, in The Sound of the Music, I know I am not destined to be a nun.

  “I never want to see another pair of breeches as long as I live,” I say. “And you can get rid of this.” I reach down, retrieve the quizzing glass, and lob it into the bin.

  He raises an eyebrow then he kisses me again—slowly. Together we sink down to the settee.

  “And what are you going to get rid of in return?” he asks.

  “What do you suggest?” I snuggle down comfortably in his arms.

  “Your filthy temper, perhaps.”

  “I think I need to hang on to that if you are sticking around.”

  “Am I?”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes. I think so. After all, you have ordered pizza.” He leans down and tweaks a bunny slipper. “How about these?”

  “Never—they stay.”

  He grins, “Well they are rather you.”

  I stare at the fluffy bundles in dismay. “In what way?”

  “A bit of a turn on and they make me smile.”

  “Pervert,” I whisper.

  “Really, Miss Bennet.”

  He kisses me again, and this time all the warning gates are breeched. But I’ve switched off brain and body and am listening to my heart. I want this annoying, smirking, brave man. I want to know everything about him, and I want it to take a very long time.

  “One more thing,” I say. “Don’t ever call me Miss bloody Bennet again.”

  Regency heroes. Who needs them!

  About the Author

  Susan Lodge’s first publication was a story for a national woman’s magazine. Heady with this breakthrough she went on to write her first novel, Only a Hero Will Do, published July 2012.

  If you enjoyed The Man in The Buff Breeches then you might like to read The Man in the Blue Flowered Shorts (Lyn and Henry's story)

  Please visit Susan's website at www.susanlodge.com for details of all her publications.