A Night to Surrender (Spindle Cove #1)

“We could take a carriage,” Bram said, catching her on the first turn. “Or ride.”


“Not enough time,” she said, gulping the cool night air. “This is faster.”

Truth be told, she was glad of a chance to run. There were too many questions between them, so many emotions she felt unprepared to face. She slid a glance in his direction, wondering if his knee was paining him. She knew better than to ask. He would never admit to it, if it were.

But she slowed, just a little.

As they neared the center of the village, a dull roar reached her ears. There was no question about the source of the din. Together they raced the last distance past the church, and across the village green.

“I’ll be damned.” He halted beside her, panting for breath.

She clutched her side, staring up at the sign above the tea shop door. “The Rutting Bull? What’s the meaning of this?”

“I know what it means. It means the men have taken back their tavern.”

“Our tea shop, you mean.”

“Not tonight.” He grinned, shaking his head. “Ha. This scheme has Colin written all over it. But it’s good to see them taking some initiative.”

“This isn’t amusing.” Her hands flew to her hips. “Did you know they were planning this?”

At her accusing tone, his posture became defensive. “No, I didn’t know they were planning this. I’ve spent the past thirty hours knocked cold. Someone dosed me with enough laudanum to drop a horse.”

“No, Bram. Someone dosed you with the appropriate amount, and your battered body took the much-needed opportunity to rest. I was looking out for your well-being. And now I’m looking out for the well-being of my friends.” She gestured toward the tea shop. “We have to put a stop to that scene. Those girls in there, they’re unused to this sort of attention. They’re going to make more of it than they ought.”

“You’re the one making too much of it. It’s only a bit of dance and drink.”

“Precisely. To a man like yourself, that’s just harmless carousing. But these are delicate, sheltered young ladies. Their hearts and hopes are vulnerable. Too vulnerable. Not to mention their reputations. We have to intervene.”

Together they looked to the tea-shop-turned-tavern. Loud music and laughter drifted out to them on the breeze, along with the sound of clinking glass.

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to put a stop to that scene, and neither are you. What’s going on in there is important.”

“Public drunkenness is important?”

“Yes, on occasion. More than that, fellowship. Brotherhood within a band of soldiers, and the duty those men are charged to carry out. It’s all important. It’s called pride, Susanna, and those men are getting their first taste of it in a long time.”

“What do you mean, their first taste of it? They are decent, honorable men, all. Or at least they were.”

“Come along. Before I arrived in this village, you and your muslin-clad minions had them reduced to mending lockets and piping icing on teacakes. You don’t understand. Men need a purpose, Susanna. A worthy goal. One that we feel in our guts and our hearts, not just in our heads.”

“Men need a purpose?” She sighed, exasperated. “Can’t you understand women are the same? We crave our own goals and our own accomplishments, our own sisterhood as well. And there are precious few places we can find it, in a world ruled by the opposite sex. Everywhere else we are governed by men’s rules, live at the mercy of male whims. But here, in this one tiny corner of the world, we are free to be our best and truest selves. Spindle Cove is ours, Bram. I will fight to my last breath before I let you destroy it. Women’s needs are important, too.”

He put both hands on her, tugging her away from the buildings and onto the green. Soon he had her ensconced beneath the canopy of an ancient willow tree. She’d always loved this tree, and the way its protective, low-hanging limbs made a sort of separate world. A green, fresh, gently tickling shelter that allowed just the right amount of sunlight through, yet kept out all but the heaviest rain. She’d always felt comfortable and safe under its branches.

Until now. The hungry glint in his eyes was danger itself. When he spoke, his voice had darkened. The whole night had darkened.

“I’ll tell you what’s most important of all. It’s this.” He flexed those barrel-like biceps, drawing her body flush against a solid wall of muscle and heat. “Not women, not men, but what lies between two people who want each other more than air. You can argue with me all you want, but you can’t fight this. I know you feel it.”

Oh yes. She felt it. Hot, electric sensation hummed through her whole body, all the way to the beds of her toenails and the roots of her hair. Between her thighs, she was molten with it.