The Prisoners of Wyvern Castle

Bonus! The story of Mist and Shadow continues

Wyvern Castle, off England's south coast
September 1806

"The wind is dying," David said, as he came back into the room with an armful of wood clutched to his breast and a basket depending off the arm with which he had opened the door. "They'll be able to cross from the mainland today."

"I will be pleased to know that Lord and Lady Penworth are safe," said the woman whose code name was Mist, "but I will regret leaving this little sanctuary they made out of their prison."

"I don't want to leave, either," David said.

He looked around the tower room that had been their refuge this last two nights, alone in a deserted castle on an abandoned island. It was very familiar to him now. At that table, they had shared information and pieced together the plot that had ensnared two earls, and would have cost David his life had Mist not come to the island on a mission of her own. At that window, they had watched the boat carrying the last of the fleeing villains turn away from the shore where constables waited to arrest them, and lose the gamble when the storm overwhelmed them. On that sofa, he had slept the first night, leaving the bed on the next floor to Mist. And on that rug, in front of the fire, they had made love for the first time yesterday afternoon before repairing upstairs to that same bed.

The thought heated his gaze as he placed the basket on the table, and Mist joined him to explore what his scavenging had produced for their meal. She blushed and lowered her eyes. He had not been her first—had not expected or wanted to be—but nor was she a wanton. Except at the appropriate moments, he amended, certain memories curving his lips. There would be time for another appropriate moment before their peace was invaded. And perhaps when they both returned to town?

She was cutting the bread he had found and threading it onto a toasting fork. Yes. Eating first was a good idea.

She was sitting on the rug now, the richly coloured banyan she wore pooling around her. It was the earl's clearly and far too big for her, swamping her lithe form. David speared a piece of cheese to grill and sat beside her, enjoying the way she cleared the robe from his way so he could sit close enough for her to rest her head on his shoulder. Was she wearing anything beneath it? He rubbed his cheek against her hair, shifting slightly to ease the reaction the thought prompted.

Mist's thoughts, though, were on food. "Toast, cheese, and apples. A feast, David."

He loved the sound of his name on her lips. He had told her last night, after she had called out "Shadow!" at the height of her passion. The name she had known him by these last three years was not enough with her, though it had sufficed in the past with others. Those who served the Crown in this half-world of lies had code names to protect their identities, but he wanted Mist to know him, though he was not yet ready to think about why. "My name is David Wakefield," he told her, as she lay limp and gloriously naked on the large bed. It stung a little that she had not shared her own name.

She held out a slice of toast, and he slipped the toasted cheese onto it, refurbishing both forks before taking a bite from the prepared treat and holding it to her mouth for her own bite.

"I used to make cheese and toast with my half-brother," he told her. "Little scamp. He would come sneaking up to my room at all hours of the night with half a loaf of bread and some cheese that he'd charmed out of a kitchen maid."

"You are the eldest then, David?"

"I was the eldest at the castle," David temporised. Only God knew how many other by-blows the Duke of Haverford had or what ages they were. Certainly His Grace neither knew nor cared. "Aldr... my half-brother was the heir, though. Lived all by himself in a vast suite of rooms with servants to wait on him hand and foot. I never envied him that lonely life or the weight of expectations on him. It's no surprise he used to escape to visit the by-blow in the tower."

What was wrong? She had stiffened beside him, and when he looked down, her face was drained of colour. An icy hand closed around his heart, and he forced his next words out through a closing throat, already knowing that their idyll was over.

"Mist? Is something wrong?"

She denied it, but she would not meet his eyes.

"If you are sure, Mist." He pulled away, standing to tidy up the remains of their breakfast.

"I should dress," she said

"Go then." She flinched at his sudden shout.

He moderated his volume, but not his angry tone. "You are not the first harlot to bed the bastard and then reject him. I thought you were different, but I should have known."

At her ashen face he regretted his sharpness, but she did not explain, did not deny his accusations. She merely turned on her heel and left.

Well, what of it? He had been rejected before for the circumstances of his birth and had survived. It was his own fault for believing she was somehow different to the women who had used and discarded him in the past. But it hurt. He could not deny it hurt.

Continued in Revealed in Mist, released as an ebook and in print on 13 December 2016

Their pasts could bring them together or separate them forever

Prue's job is to uncover secrets, but she hides a few of her own. When she is framed for murder and cast into Newgate, her one-time lover comes to her rescue. Will revealing what she knows help in their hunt for blackmailers, traitors, and murderers? Or threaten all she holds dear?

Enquiry agent David solves problems for the ton, but will never be one of them. When his latest case includes his legitimate half-brothers as well as the woman who left him months ago, he finds the past and the circumstances of his birth difficult to ignore. Danger to Prue makes it impossible.

David and Prudence continue their story in Concealed in Shadow. When Prue disappears, David goes after her. But finding her again may mean choosing between his country and his woman.

See more about this book on http://judeknightauthor.com/books/revealed-in-mist/