Lynnette cringed when she heard her mother calling. Of all the times for Lady Charmaine to take an interest in what her daughter was up to, it had to be when she was so close to Dashwood. Lynnette could have cursed, if it were ladylike to do so. There she was, standing so close to Dashwood that she was neigh drunk off the manly scent of him and drowning in the look of his eyes when her mother's screeching intruded on her private paradise. She took a step back, just in time as her mother stormed on to the scene.

“Mother, Capt...Uh, Lord Beddington and I were just discussing the hunting party,” Lynnette started, but her mother fairly pushed her away to take her place at Dashwood's side.

“Lynnette, I am sure that whatever brings a busy man like Lord Beddington here must be important. And I am sure he doesn't wish to be distracted by your girlish prattle. Go and...and...and pull your stockings up or something!” Lady Charmaine shoved the letter from Lord Austin in Lynnette's hands and turned her adoration back to Dashwood, fairly pulling him along to look at the oleanders.

Lynnette sighed. There was no way she'd be able to push her mother away. It was quite clear that Lady Charmaine desired Dashwood.

What am I to do?

Standing around like a ninny won't help, snapped Dympna. Fight for your man! Your mother has no right clamoring over him!

Lynnette agreed with Dympna, but she wasn't sure how to get between them. Her mother was like the ocean; vast and powerful and capable of rolling over her at a moment's notice.

Then fight dirty, Dympna said. We both know Dashwood fancies you. He came here to see you after all. Trust me, I know when a guy is interested in a girl, and he couldn't keep his eyes or hands off you. Fight dirty.

Okay, how?

As Lynnette stood there, watching her mother manhandle her way into Dashwood's notice, Dympna whispered her plans into Lynnette's ear. Fight dirty, indeed.

It took forever to get from the Averly's ball to home. Two days as a matter of fact, Jack mused, because the Duke of Devonshire had taken that moment of her hasty departure...to kidnap her. Sure, two nights locked in the Captains quarters on board his ship had done absolutely nothing for her temper.

And the damn man hadn't even showed his face! Now Jack was stalking her way across Devonshire fields. The gown she wore to Elizabeth's ball was completely ruined. Her hair was a tumble around her gritted features, and the fury she wore was like a mask.

It had taken all of those two days to find out certain information. One, was that her “husband” was a pirate. Another, was that his first mate was easily sweet talked into sharing a drink, and even easier to pass out from it. Allowing for her escape.

From the maids surprised shrieks when she entered into the back door of the kitchen, she could only assume she looked a fright.

“Bath, my room, please.” She walked up the back stairway to the second floor and heard the unmistakable laughter of guests being entertained within the drawing room. Groaning she leaned back against the door to her bedroom. Oh drat. The guests..it was this week. She was all a fuddle and it was because of that damn Duke. What had the Shelton girl even seen in him? The way he had just tossed her over his shoulder and stuffed her into a carriage..it was..it was..

The best adventure of her life.

Shaking away these thoughts it took Jack a mere twenty minutes to bathe and get adorned in a proper afternoon gown. She glided down the large stairwell that splayed out in front of the doorway to the drawing room. There she looked on at the guests and in the best false cheerful voice she could muster..greeted them.

“I am terrible sorry for my hold up. Something with my mothers health popped up, but have no worries. She is quite well.”

It was not often that Captain Dashwood LeFevre Mesurier, Fifth Earl of Beddington. Feared swordsman, famed duelist, enfent terible of the poetry world, renowned womanizer, war-hero, crack-shot, carouser, hero of the prize ring, and wit - (a pause is inserted here, gentle reader, lest you should be reading this aloud and need to draw breath) - it was not often that he was nonplussed. But now was such a time...

He stood, helpless. In any second, the rapacious and predatory Lady Charmaine was going to drag him off towards the oleanders - (and even Harry, who knew nothing about botany, knew what that meant!) and there was not a thing he could do about it. Had it been a person of his own gender who was attempting to impose his will, Beddington could have dealt with the situation easily. By means of sword, fist or wit he would have sent his kidnapper packing. But a lady...

It was not done to refuse. And furthermore, how could he do so, without getting Lady Lynette (who was obviously intimidated by her mother) into trouble? Even if he made some attempt to protect her, it could only serve to humiliate his love, by emphasizing that she, a grown woman, could not stand up to her parent.

He stole a glance at Lynette - he sensed that this girl was going to have to make a stand. Either that or slink away defeated - and leave him to the tender mercy of the Lady Charmaine. And his "ghost" was no help - the voice was as silent and helpless as he. Its one phrase:

Shit, that bitch sssoooooo thinks she's a cougar

Did not seem to be of much help, even though Beddington he was on the fringe of being half way to understanding it.

So he stood, helpless, watching developments, feeling the grip of Lady Charmaine on his shoulder like an ague, and trying not to see the look of helpless defeat in Lady Lynette's beautiful eyes.

It was the 'help me' look in Dashwood's face that spurred Lynnette into action. She couldn't just claim her man from her mother's clutches, but she could release him for a while. Springing forward, she caught her mother's arm, giving Dashwood a glance she hoped to convey, “Do as I say.”

“Mother, I'm afraid Lord Beddington should head inside instead of out in the gardens,” Lynnette said, fitting herself between Lady Charmaine and Lord Beddington.

“And why is that,” scoffed Lady Charmaine.

“Because...It's his leg, Mother. Horrible injury from his days in war, and it has been bothering him lately. He was so eager to arrive that he must have hurt it in his rush. He was telling me how much it hurt and I was about to tell him to go inside and sit down in comfort,” Lynnette said, speaking fast. “You wouldn't want him to be in pain, Mother. And, while men can take a great deal of pain, comfort is always better.”

Lady Charmaine thought this over, never fully releasing her grip on Dashwood. “You do have a point,” she murmured. With a smile, she swept Dashwood into her arms once more. “If he needs the comforts of indoors, then I shall see to it that he receives that. Come, Lord Beddington. I know of the perfect place for you to rest your weary leg.”

Lynnette sighed. That hadn't quite gone to plan. When she tried to interrupt again, her mother shooed her away like a bothersome fly. She now had visions of romantically nursing Lord Beddington to health.

“Mother! Don't rush him along,” Lynnette cried. “You'll hurt his leg more. Please, allow me to help.”

Lady Charmaine rounded on her daughter. “Shouldn't you be writing a letter to Lord Austin,” she hissed. “He was so kind to send you a missive and you are pestering dear, sweet Lord Beddington. Go on, child. I can help him inside. I have more experience than you.”

Lynnette glanced over at Lord Beddington. She had tried. She didn't think her mother would pounce so fast. With a curtsy, she said, “Forgive me Lord Beddington, but I must leave you in my mother's capable hands.” She would have to rethink her plan of attack. Clearly her first idea was a failure.

Beddington did his best to limp convincingly - which truly wasn't that hard, as he'd had such injuries before in the course of his duties. Unfortunately, when he turned he limped on his right leg, and when he allowed Lady Charmaine to take his arm he began limping on the left - well, he'd just have to hope she as too besotted to notice!

He was half prepared to give up at that point - he'd done his best for Lynette, but the way she'd given up and fled the field showed that she was no match at all for her domineering mother. But the look in her eyes as she'd curtsied... the look of defeated shame on her face... was too much. There was no way he was going to subject the woman he loved - and yes, he could think that way without fear of contradiction - to this humiliation. Therefore, as soon as Lady Lynette could be regarded as out of earshot, he turned to Lady Charmaine, a carefully contrived look of consternation upon his face.

"Darling, are you mad?" he hissed. "When all of society is talking about us already? When my passion for you is common gossip? Anachreon in heaven, Madam - the poem of mine, comparing an anonymous woman to the goddess Venus - half of London is nudging the other half knowingly, and mentioning your name..." (There was in fact no such poem, but he counted upon Lady Charmaine not being much of a reader) ... " 'sblood, Madam, can you imagine the scandal if I were to waltz into your own house, clutching your arm, under the very crack-veined nose of your husband. The scandal would destroy you. Not to mention that your husband would be forced to call me out, and I'd be forced, in turn, to kill him - and then you'd never be welcomed into a drawing room in the length and breadth of England again. For heaven's sake Madam, there's nowhere I want to be more than in your arms... but to do so here and now would destroy the woman I love. Desist, I implore you. Call back your daughter, so I can be helped inside with no scandal or impropriety!"

Lady Charmaine simpered and giggled, blushing all the way down to her full bosoms. “Oh, well, I had heard of that poem,” she lied, “but I had not dared to dream you really meant me. Oh, Lord Beddington, you humble me. The passion in your words, the images it invoked...Oh! My legs get weak thinking about it.”

She gripped harder on him, nearly dragging him to the ground. “You are right, of course. We must be discreet. Though I am a proud mother, I know my Lynnette is a homely little thing. Our reputation will be intact if I have her walk you in. No one will whisper about her.”

She turned and called out, “Lynnette! Where have you gone, girl. Get back here!”

A few seconds later, Lynnette walked over to them, having not gone very far. She tried her best to not look curious. Her plan had been to wait until her own chance to meet up with Dashwood and, as Dympna insisted, make the first move. The very thought caused her to blush, especially when Dympna sent a few mental pictures her way. Though Lynnette was sure Dympna (whatever Dympna was) was on her side, she was often shocked by how forward the woman wanted her to be.

“Take Lord Beddington inside,” Lady Charmaine said. “See to it that he rests and is well taken care of.” She allowed Lynnette to shoulder Dashwood before taking his hands and holding them to her breasts. “Until we meet again, Lord Beddington. I'll hold the memory of your words deep in my heart.”

Lynnette watched her mother leave before looking at Dashwood. She started to laugh, unable to help herself. “I don't know what you told her,” she said softly, “but we should remember it. Much better than my plan.”

Harry's inclination was to laugh along with Lynette, at the clever way Beddington had bamboozled her. The way she'd blushed and simpered had been priceless. Beddington, however - the tactician in him coming to the fore - was less inclined to be sanguine about the situation.

"But sweet lady, do you not see..." he whispered. "This can't go on for long." His manner was cold, quite unlike his previous flirtatious mien. "Inexperienced as you are, you are no child. Soon, or late, you will have to make a stand. You must defy your mother - or you might be tied to the strings of her pin-a-fore when she is in her dotage and you long past marrying age. I must be frank, sweet love, already, girls far younger than yourself giggle at you behind their hands, at the way your mother controls you like a docile mare. They call you a coward, and... and worse!" He cast his eyes down, knowing that she would not appreciate what he had to say. "Given my high regard for you, is it any wonder it tears my heart to hear you mocked this way?"

"Hey, that's a tad unfair," put in Beddington's "ghost". "She's only seventeen, after all."

"Old enough to act like a woman," said Beddington, then realized he'd answered his inner voice, rather than address Lynette. "I-I mean... you are of an age when you should take... when you should stand up for what you want." He glanced at Lady Lynette, wondering how she'd take the case he'd made. It had ripped at his inner being to tell her, but he knew it had to be said.

When he spoke so coldly to her, Lynnette feared she had angered him. As she withdrew, Dympna came more to the forefront, and truly listened to what he was saying. It wasn't anything she wouldn't have said to Lynnette herself, except coming from the man she loved seemed to hurt her. The girl's normal defense when it came to sudden change was to run and hide, and Dympna never backed down from a challenge.

“You are right,” she said softly, looking down at the ground. “I should stand up to my mother. It is high time I cut the strings and be my own woman. It's not always easy for one to leave one's jailor. I love my mother. And, to be honest, had you never walked into my life, I wouldn't have thought to leave her. I might have allowed myself to be married off to Lord Austin. But, in you, I've found something worth fighting for.”

Dympna smiled at him, realizing she would have to be more assertive with Lynnette. Just sitting back and offering advice to the innocent part of her could very well make her lose the man she loved. A more hands on approach was needed.

She could see the house by now. Stopping and turning to face Dashwood, she said, “I will make this known now, Captain Dashwood. I have never met anyone like you. The way you make me feel...It's like heaven. For you, my love, I will endeavor to stand up against my mother.”

In a purely un-Lynnette gesture, she leaned up on tiptoe and quickly kissed his cheek. It was a promise to become the woman he deserved.

And quickly, before Lynette could react, Beddington turned and kissed her passionately - flicking his tongue into her mouth just once, and then releasing her. It happened so quickly, no-one could have possibly seen.

"See, that's the way to do it," said the "ghost". Beddington was shocked - the idea of kissing a woman of quality like that had been totally unknown to him. Dollymops yes, innocent girls, no. But somehow, he sensed the "ghost", while strange in its ways, had some knowledge he didn't, as if he could see into the future. If it shocked Lady Lynette, well, she'd have to get used to it. On the other hand, after she'd just confessed how he made her feel, maybe she would welcome it.

"All this sighing and holding hands to breasts is so, like, Jane Austen," said the ghost. Beddington had no idea who this Austen person was, unless she were one of Lord Austin's distant relations, but presumably the "ghost" didn't approve of her.

he glanced at Lynette, to see her reaction.

Lynnette made a sound between a gasp and a moan, taking a step back with her hand over her mouth. That was not expected. The touch of his lips, the brush of his tongue and the promise of what it could lead to caused Lynnette's breath to catch. The small bit of passion made her feel faint.

Don't you dare, chided Dympna. You are not fainting after this! That would be embarrassing.

I should slap him for taking such liberty, Lynnette thought.

Dympna disagreed. They had taken the steps to such liberty first. Could she really blame him for taking advantage of it? And that move? Dympna approved wholeheartedly at how sneaky he could be.

“I fear, Captain Dashwood, I may have just made a mistake,” Lynnette said softly. “I meant only to chastely kiss you on the kiss, and while that was improper of me it was a desire I could not deny. But what just happened...I fear I have tasted heaven and am now sore afraid that I will crave that same heaven for the days of my life.” She gently reached up and traced his lips. “I should warn you, my darling, that while I thought I had reason to fight for you before, I find that stolen kiss to be more then enough to fan the flames of my adoration of you.”

She smiled, taking his hand. “We should get inside before anyone realizes we are still missing. The longer we stand here, the more tempted I am to surrender to you.”

Beddington liked very much the idea of Lynette surrendering to him. Right there, and then. It hadn't been the first time he'd had a girl give way to instant passion, and slaked his lust standing up against a wall, the girl's skirts and petticoats bunched up around her waist and her drawers a crumpled heap around her ankles. But these, he reminded himself, had been trulls and dollymops, not refined ladies on the borders of the ton itself! So he bit off his first, instinctive reply, and instead contented himself with gently rearranging the tendrils of Lady Lynette's hair, which has become disarranged during the kiss. It was, as his commander would remark only a few weeks later on the field of Waterloo, a close run thing, but he mastered his passions enough to reply calmly.

"I take those words, sweet lady, as the most welcome I ever heard in my life."

He was forced to look straight ahead, and if challenged would have given his excuse that he wanted to deflect suspicion, for they were now in sight of the house, and no doubt the nosy Lady Charmaine would be peering out of the window. The truth was, there was no way he could look at any part of Lady Lynette. If he turned sideways, he'd smell her hair. Inclining his head slightly would bring him level with those gorgeous, helpless eyes. And then that oh so kissable mouth. Going lower still brought him to her bosom, heaving with agitation, so that he even fancied he could see the top of her corset as the fabric of her gown tightened and released. He dare not think about her slim legs, under the gown, for then he would not have been able to resist at all.

"I've never had such a boner," said his "ghost, irreverently. "I feel like I'm gonna cum in my levis."
It was, perhaps, fortunate, that Beddington did not understand a word of that.

"My lady," said Beddington, at last. "I would have you...... in my life, for mine own." But before he could say more, they'd reached the main portal of the house, and he was forced to cudgel his mind again, trying to remember which leg he was supposed to be limping on. And the one thing he most definitely did not feel was "limp"...

Just as they made it into the house, Lynnette was once again descended upon by a parental unit. Her father, this time. Seamus's face was red and he kept wiping his forehead with a dirty handkerchief. Unlike his wife, he didn't look quite at home in the finery he wore.

“Lynnette, there you are. Your mother is looking all over for you. Lord Austin -”

“Mother gave me the letter,” Lynnette said. “Um, Father, please meet Lord Beddington. My lord, this is my father, Lord Seamus Murphy. I'm just helping him to the library.”

Seamus gave a hurried bow. “Sorry, Lord Beddington. Nice to meet you. I've been hearing your name a lot lately. My wife seems very taken by you.” His eyes flickered between Lynnette and Dashwood, a dawning of comprehension in them. “Oh! Oh, I see. Yes, uh, help him to the library, Lynnette. Here, I'll help. Poor girl, not very strong. I'm amazed she made it this far.” He went to stand and help on the other side of Dashwood.

Lynnette tried to not giggle. Her father must have seen how flushed she was, or recognized the adoration in her glances. He had guessed rightly that Dashwood was someone she cared deeply about, loved even. Though, that was not why Lady Charmaine was taken by him.

The walk to the library was a short one, and Lynnette refused to leave until she was sure Dashwood was comfortable. Plus, it gave her an excuse to let her hands linger on his arms as she bent down to fix the pillows.

Seamus cleared his throat and said, “Lynnette, you should, uh, go and fix yourself up. The Duchess returned while you were out and she's in a state. Something about her mother's health. You, being the one that was properly invited, should go and greet our hostess.”

Lynnette nodded and, after whispering a soft promise to see Dashwood again, left the room. Seamus cleared his throat again, looking at Lord Beddington. He wasn't quite sure what to say. His wife was the one handling the promises of marriage with Lord Austin, but the elderly lord never managed to make his daughter's eyes dance the way they had when she looked at the young earl.

In her room, Lynnette quickly changed into a proper afternoon gown and fixed her hair. She had to force herself to not think about Dashwood. The thought of him gave her the most delicious tingles through her body, and a longing to fall in his arms. When she was presentable, she asked a maid to take her to the Duchess.

"I'm delighted to meet you, Lord Seamus," said Beddington, urbanely, pretending to find it difficult to struggle to his feet. "I do apologize for my situation - my horse shied." He held out his hand. In fact, he'd heard of Lord Seamus before, as a likable and affable man, none to bright, but devoid of malice. "And may I commend you upon your daughter's manners. She assisted me to the house, despite, as you say, her being somewhat frail. The sign of a true lady, if I might put it that way."

"What did he mean about his wife being taken by you?" queried the ghost, panic in its youthful voice. "Has word got around about you and that old bag already?" Beddington started slightly - the "ghost' had a point. Was Lord Seamus discreetly issuing a warning? Yet he seemed friendly enough.

"Your good lady, Sir, was kind enough to compliment some scribblings of mine that were recently published. When we were introduced we discussed poetry and other writing. I fear she flatters my ability." Well, that seemed neutral enough. Etiquette books were notoriously lax on what to say to a man when you wanted to get into his daughter's drawers and his wife wanted to get into yours - a damning omission! And at the thought of Lynette - who even now was "fixing herself up" - presumably changing her dress, which meant she might, even now, be naked or in her small clothes - made it hard for Beddington to concentrate on the conversation.

*******

Silas looked into the empty room and scowled. He'd rushed there with vital information for the Lady Lynette, scrambled lithely up the wall, and was on the verge of blurting out his news when he saw the room was empty. A few minutes before and he'd have been on time, which made it doubly galling! Signs of the lady's presence still lingered around - a discarded brown gown flung over a chair, the fragrance of her perfume, a hairbrush carelessly flung down among the mysterious lotions and pots on her dressing table.

Well, he was forbidden the house - he'd have to find a way to get the message to her somehow. But how?

Seamus smiled, unaware of the fact his wife wanted to jump into bed with Dashwood. Reading the situation wrongly, he said, “I can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you. We were going to give up this year, you know. Poor Lynnette, she never did seem to fit in this world. Her mother had been the talk of the ton back in her day. A beauty if there ever was one.” He sighed happily at the memories. “Lynnette though...Well, you've seen her. Pretty little thing, but not one to stand out.”

He shook Dashwood's hand. “As I said, this would be Lynnette's last year. We never thought she'd get anywhere, and now look.” He beamed down at Dashwood, pride in his face. “She has two suitors. I don't mind telling you, I thought she'd wind up married to Lord Austin, but it appears I'll have to rethink her marriage. And with how my wife has been fluttering around, saying 'Lord Beddington this' and 'Lord Beddington that'...I can see she secretly approves of you as well.” Seamus paused for a second. “Uh, I do have it right, don't I? Since I rarely attend functions my wife has been the one to keep an eye out for Lynnette's suitors.”

Seamus pulled back a moment. He knew he wasn't up to par with the ton, never giving much thought on the many levels of etiquitte. He worried he was making too much of how happy he saw his little Lynnette when she looked at Lord Beddington.

"Sir, I-" Beddington stopped. He'd been proceeding as a man in a dream, not knowing what he wished to say. In truth, he truly didn't know what he wished to say. Up until now, he'd assumed that Seamus was backing his wife in wishing Lynette to marry Lord Austin, which was fair enough, since Austin did have the rightful claim. For that matter, did Lady Charmaine have a fair point? Lord Austin might have been elderly and ugly, but he was rich - riches that would devolve to Lynette upon Austin's demise. And he had reputation too, which was more than Beddington could claim! But, on the other hand...

And the ghost's take on the situation - "Fuck a duck! Who'd a thought it? Her dad's on our side!" did not provide much in the way of spiritual illumination!

"Sir, if I might speak frankly," said Beddington, adopting a serious tone. "The situation is somewhat difficult. My own wish, is quite simple. I am extremely attached to Lady Lynette, and - were there no impediment, I would be pleased to become her suitor. Your daughter's situation, though, is a difficult one, since there appears to be an arrangement with Lord Austin already. And for this reason, Lady Lynette has not encouraged my suit." (This was a lie of course - but the last thing he wanted to do was to get Lynette into even worse odor with her harridan of a mother).

"What a porky!" screamed the "ghost" - "She was all over us - urm you - like a rash!"

"Lady Lynette's stance," continued Beddington, ignoring the mental interjection, "...is, of course, entirely correct. Lord Austin has done nothing to warrant a breaking of any arrangement that may stand between the two parties. And his limitations - which have the possibility to mitigate against a happy marriage between himself and your daughter - are hardly his fault. However..." Beddington cast down his eyes. "I can tell you sir, that were she mine, I'd do everything in my power to make her happy. In short sir - as her father - it rather seems that yours is the final word."

Harry was gobsmacked. This guy had more bottle than United Dairies! Under the guise of humility and being fair to his rival, he'd managed to subtly make poor Lord Austin seem a pathetic, doting fool, and cast himself in the most perfect of lights as an upright, moral Sir Lancelot. And as a bonus, he'd handed the decision over to someone who was obviously on Beddington's side - thus removing the decision from Lady Charmaine's hands!

"All I can do, Sir," finished Beddington, "Is await your permission, before daring to consider your daughter in the light of... of anything but a friend."

******

Harry was not the only person admiring Beddington's clever verbal trickery. His mental applause as echoed by that of Silas, who, crouched below the outer sill of the window, had heard every word of the conversation. And the thought that eventually Lady Lynette, who he regarded as an angel incarnate, and Lord Beddington, the finest man who ever lived, might end up betrothed - the glory of it took his breath away. It almost drove the other thing out of his head. Almost, but not quite...

Just who was that mysterious stranger, that he'd seen holding that furtive, secretive conversation with Crispian?

The news that Lord Beddington wanted Lynnette's hand pleased Seamus. As he had married for love, he wanted that for his daughter. The problem being, he never saw her interested in anyone. There was an arrangement with Lord Austin, but nothing set in stone. The elderly lord had made his interest known, and then acted as if everything was set. As the only suitor until that point, Seamus felt his hands tied. With the arrival of Lord Beddington, it was a chance to give his daughter the happiness she deserved. It was doting and foolish of him, but she was his little girl.

Seamus motioned for Lord Beddington to sit. “Take a seat, my lord, get comfortable. You're right, there is something of an arrangement between us and Lord Austin, but not one of marriage just yet. Only an interest, but I am beginning to suspect he's ready to post the bans and whisk Lynnette away.” He took a deep breath. “I'm a simple man, Lord Beddington. I come from a family that worked hard to get to where I am today, and I know what is said behind my back. I married my wife for love and Lynnette is the greatest treasure I hold. I know you will do everything to make her happy, and that's all I ever wanted for her. You have my permission to woo my daughter. Within reason, of course. I'll settle her hand after the Duchess' ball.”

"YAY!" screamed Harry. "We've won!"

Beddington, while beaming, was less sure. True, Seamus' consent was definitely a step in the right direction, but there was a problem. Lady Charmaine. Had she been simply the doting mother of Lynette, who desperately wanted to see her wed to Beddington (as Seamus obviously thought), all would certainly have been well. But, of course, this was not the case. Hell, Beddington knew from past experience, hath no fury like a woman denied her oats! Especially when her less confident daughter can get her spoon into the porridge! When Lady Charmaine heard of Seamus' decision, the resultant explosion had the potential to dwarf anything a French 18 pounder might have been able to produce! what revenge she might take on Lynette did not bear thinking about!

So while Beddington made his (quite sincere) thanks of Seamus and expressed his delight, his mind was scheming madly. Just how to make sure that Lynette was safe - from the wrath of her own mother!

******

Silas crouched under the window, his hands clenched into triumphant fists, shaking with delight. That was one worry out of the way. But now he had another one - just how was he to get in touch with Lord Beddington and Lady Lynette, to deliver the warning that was so vital. Coming to a quick decision, he scuttled, in a crouched position (to keep him under the level of the windows) towards the main entrance of the house. He'd have to risk no-one seeing him enter the forbidden domain of the house, while he waited in the passage where Lady Lynette would pass.

A few seconds later he was flattened against the wall, behind one of the suits of armor that decorated the main passage to the library, hardly daring to breathe, waiting for the footsteps that heralded Lady Lynette.

Lynnette made her way from the Duchess' room. She had just missed her friend. Dympna grumbled that it was due to the largeness of the place, and that there were no 'phones' to just 'text' people. By the time she had walked from her room, down the hall, up a flight of stairs, through a few other halls and twists and turns, she arrived after the Duchess had left her room. With a sigh, she prepared to make the long trek back.

On her way, she paused to look at her reflection in a hanging mirror. Dympna let her know that a few things might have to change to snare Dashwood. Instead of pinning her hair up all the time, she should try leaving it down. Lynnette's gowns were not made for seduction, but Dympna had noted a few colors that would look brilliant on Lynnette and sometimes more clothing is just as erotic as less. Plus, Dympna was positive she could manipulate a few of those gowns to be a bit more revealing.

Lynnette smiled, remembering the stolen kiss still hot in her mind and on her lips. With a finger, she traced her lips. She still couldn't believe they had kissed, that his feelings were as strong as hers. She had to save him from the clutches of her mother. There was no way she would dare allow her mother now to snatch the man she loved from her grasp. It rather surprised Lynnette at how possessive she felt.

Making her way to her room, she stopped as she saw something moving behind some suits of armor. Curious, she took a closer look and discovered Silas. Crouching down so they were eye level, she said, “Is anything wrong, Silas?”

"Pssst!" hissed Silas. "I'm not s'posed to be here, Ma'am. The ol' beldame - erm, begging your pardon, Ma'am, your mother - says no outside servants in the big 'ouse. But I gotta talk to you, see...

"I just 'eard your da talking to Lor' Bedd'n'ton. 'e was more or less sayin' e' reckoned it was OK for Bedd'n'ton to court you, Ma'am. So that's all right, like. But I reckon you better pretty yourself up, like, afore you go in, 'cos Lord B, 'e's gonna remember this day rest of 'is life. But I got some bad news, too, see...

"Crispan, 'e lef' work early today, said 'e 'ad a belly-ache. But I follered 'im - an' 'e 'ad a meetin' with - with some cove. They was looking around furtive, like, an' whisperin'. But I 'eard Lord B's name mentioned, an' they looked like they was up to no good. Thought you should know, Ma'am!"

At first, Lynnette didn't hear what Silas said. The only thing that stuck was her father had given Dashwood permission to court her. She felt her legs go weak and she sank to the ground next to the boy. Her mind was whirling with what this meant. She could finally get out of her mother's deal with Lord Austin and not have to hide her true feelings for Dashwood.

Slowly, his words started to register. She should go back to her room and freshen up. Though she had to see the Duchess, it was a different look she needed to impress Dashwood. Before she went to see how Lord Beddington was doing with his 'injured' leg, she should make herself look as irresistible as she could.

“Silas, I'm just overwhelmed. That's the best news I could ever hope to receive,” she whispered. She started to stand when the rest of his message sank in.

“How much did you get to overhear with the person Crispin was talking to? Did you get to hear what they were saying about Capt...Lord Beddington?” Her heart did flip-flops thinking that her love could be in danger. What could she do to help him? She knew nothing that would be useful.

You know nothing, but I might know some things, Dympna said.

"I 'eard a bit, Ma'am," admitted Silas. "Somefing about they'd aksed 'im nice to join 'em, an' 'e wouldn't, so they'd 'ave to make sure 'e joined 'em wivout the niceness. That were the ovver cove. An' Crispin, 'e said 'e wasn't too keen to try an' make Lord Beddin'ton do anyfink, on account of it would take a couple of cavalry divisions backed up wiv artillery before 'ed even fink about scrappin' wiv 'im! But they was whisperin', like, so I couldn' make much out, an' I daresn't get too close or they'd 'ave guessed I were there, see. I did 'ear talk 'bout a shipt, though, Ma'am, if thass any 'elp. An' tryin' to avoid the navy, so i guess it were smugglin' or some such. Sorry, Ma'am, I tried me best, but it's 'ard to 'ear much when folks are whisperin'"...

“You did good, Silas,” Lynnette said. She could feel Dympna's thoughts whirling in her mind as to what it would mean for smugglers to want Dashwood. This was something he should know about right away. “I'll see to it that Lord Beddington gets this information.”

She stood and walked quickly to her room. Dympna took over and made sure that Lynnette looked her best. She pulled the top of her dress down lower so the top globes of her breasts sat in full view. A little powder and khol around her eyes, and she was ready. Then, Dympna made one last change. She pulled the pins from her hair and let the short red curls fall softly around her face.

It should be pinned up, Lynnette protested.

Trust me on this.

Leaving her room, Lynnette was accosted by her mother. “There you are. Oh, good, you've fixed yourself up. Lord Austin will be here later today. I think he has something very important to ask your father. Oh, Lynnette, your dress is too low. Fix that.”

“I'm fine the way I look,” Lynnette said. “Excuse me, Mother, but I have something important to do.”

“And just what is that?”

“I...I...I promised to have lunch with Lord Beddington. He's expecting me. As is Father. So I must be off.” She left quickly, making her way to the library. She wasn't in a hurry to have her mother hear that Dashwood would be courting her, but knew it was coming. If only she could push it off for a few moments more so she could tell Dashwood about what Silas saw.