Free Margo Maguire by Brazen Page A

attractive when fully dressed, but she was beyond tempting in the shimmering white gown she’d worn in her bedchamber. He had to admire the way she’d stood up to him without cowering in the least. She was a woman to be reckoned with.
    But not by him.
    It was late afternoon when Gavin arrived at the Middleton Arms. He’d ridden ahead since the road had been devoid of travelers all afternoon, and he felt certain Christina and her party would be safe.
    He had never been to the small village before, having spent little time in England since his school days. It seemed ironic that he barely knew the countryside in his own land, while he was more than familiar with every little hamlet and village in France.
    He did not care to reminisce. The war was over, and he would never again be called upon to commit any of the vile deeds that had been required of him in France.
    The Middleton Arms was a decent inn, and Gavin decided it would be sufficient, as long as the beds were not too hard or too lumpy.
    Taking his saddle pack with him, he left his horse with a lad at the stable and crossed the road to the lodging house. It was not difficult to secure rooms, for there were only a few other lodgers at the inn. He ordered a meal to be prepared for Lady Fairhaven and her party, then went into the taproom to take his ease.
    He had to admit some small part of him did not object to the challenge of dealing with Christina’s blackmailer. As much as he wanted to put an end to his roving days and settle down in his own house in Hampshire, he had a niggling fear that it would not suit him. He could not quite imagine waking up in the same bedchamber every morning, eating his meals in the same room every day, or looking out at the same landscape all through the seasons.
    What if he did not like it? Worse, what if he could not stand it?
    He thought of the agricultural journals he’d stashed in his pack and took a swallow of the scorching whiskey the barkeep put before him. He rather liked the thought of running his own farm. Of producing, rather than destroying.
    When he’d been promoted from the Ninety-fifth Rifle Regiment, he had not considered the toll his new position would take. He’d sought out the most dangerous of Britain’s enemies and eliminated these men in cold blood. Problem solved. No battle involved.
    His missions had taken him all over the continent. There were times when he’d been able to merely thwart an enemy strategist or information gatherer, but it was usually more expedient to simply remove the problem. Gavin had done his part to ensure England’s victory over Napoleon, following orders and answering personally to Lords Castlereagh and Wellington.
    He felt much more than relief that it was over. His duty, while clear, had not been as uncomplicated as he’d thought it would be.
    Luckily, it was only a matter of time before he could purchase his farm and retire there in peace. As soon as he collected his money from Windermere, he intended to send for his sister and niece, and they could move into Weybrook Manor. He only had to be patient and handle Christina’s situation in exactly the same way that he’d have dealt with an assignment in France. With careful planning.
    He turned his thoughts to the task before him and considered everything Christina had told him about the last time Lang had been seen.
    It was hardly enough to make anyone think the young lieutenant might have survived the blast. And yet there was at least one gaping hole . . .
    Bloody hell . He did not want to get caught up in an investigation of Lang Jameson’s death. Surely his father and the dockside authorities had already done a sufficient job of it. But if Lang’s companions were not sure how long before the explosion he’d left the tavern . . .
    Gavin downed another swallow of whiskey. Christina’s limited information was not enough to go on. If they did not make contact with the blackmailer and find out what he knew, Gavin feared she