“The crown’s budget has fallen since the wars,” he drawled wryly. When that earned him a scolding glare from her, he answered truthfully, “I had to leave France unexpectedly.”
“Flee, you mean?”
“Chased.”
“Caught,” she corrected, her hand reaching up to trace featherlight caresses over the cut at his brow. Soft, soothing…He ached to take her into his arms like a child with a treasured toy and fall back to sleep. “We don’t have a doctor in the village, so I’ve helped patch up a lot of sailors over the years. The only times I’ve seen wounds like these were when they’d been in drunken fights.” Her fingers trailed down his temple to the bruise on his cheek, then along his jaw. “You didn’t receive these wounds from washing ashore in the bay, even in storm-tossed seas.”
“No.” His breath hitched when her hand trailed down his neck to his bare chest. “I didn’t.”
She lightly touched the stitches in the cut on his arm, each flutter of her fingertips easing away the heat of the wound. But she also sent his heartbeat racing when she swept her hand slowly across his shoulder and down the plane of his chest. “Someone wanted to hurt you.”
“No.” Warm tingles spread out from beneath her fingertips. He could no longer call her touch soothing. It was so much better than that. “They wanted to kill me.”
Her hand stilled on his chest. “Why?”
He shook his head. Damn those knots, that he couldn’t slip his arms around her and pull her down on top of him. After all, a condemned man deserved a last request, and kissing her senseless would be a damnably fine one. “It isn’t safe for you to know.”
“Protecting me, are you?” A sardonic smile curled her lips, and her hand moved again. This time, her fingers played lightly over his abdomen, following along the dusting of hair on his chest that disappeared beneath the edge of the blanket draped across his hips. Her hand slipped beneath—
His cock jumped. Only for the immediate ache to turn ice-cold when her hand slid over to feel along his bruised ribs to check for wounds.
He bit back a curse at himself. He was a damned fool.
“You’re not proving to be much of a protector,” she chided, her brown eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have let yourself be caught.” Although she said that while examining the bruises on his side, he knew she didn’t mean by the Frenchmen. The aggravating woman meant her. Which only proved how exhausted he’d been last night that she was able to best him.
“Then untie me,” he cajoled in a husky murmur.
“I’m afraid not.”
“I told you—I won’t hurt you.”
Her somber eyes held his for a long moment. “Oh, but you could,” she whispered, so softly that he barely heard her. “More than you possibly realize.” She slowly pulled her hand away from him, as if reluctant to stop touching him—he certainly wouldn’t have minded if she continued. She forced a wry smile. “You picked the wrong cottage last night, and the wrong woman to hold captive. I’m not one to fall for flattery and manly assurances, no matter how charming.”
Oh, he certainly realized that. “Then I’ll be blunt. I need to travel to London. Immediately. Before the men who are after me get there first.”
“Why are they after you, exactly?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Because you’re protecting me?” She didn’t bother trying to hide her skepticism.
“And myself. But if you keep me here until dark, I’ll lose an entire day.” God only knew how much damage could be done in that time. How much of a traitor he would be revealed to be. Or a murderer.
“I don’t have a choice. I can’t risk that anyone might see you, especially if you’ve broken the law.”
“Why does it matter who sees me?” he dodged, avoiding her attempt to pry deeper into his criminality. “No one here knows me.”
She hesitated, as if she’d started to answer but changed her mind. “Because I have a reputation.” Another hesitation. Then quietly, but in a voice filled with resolve, “And I have a son. I cannot take any risks that might put him in danger. Not from you, not from anyone.”
“I won’t put you in danger.”
“You already have just by being here.” She suspiciously eyed the documents. “It’s those papers, isn’t it? Why you’re being chased. What are they?”
“A letter and three lists of names.” The last thing he needed was for her to learn the truth about those. “Nothing more than that.”
She waited for him to offer more. The hell he would. The stubborn woman had already placed both their lives in danger. Any more, and they’d swing together at Newgate before this was over.
When he remained silent, she slowly set the tea tray aside, then wiped her hands on her skirt and collected the pages. Standing to walk away, she slipped them into her pocket.
Panic spiked in his gut. “Don’t!” He thrashed against the ropes but only worked the knots tighter and increased the pain in his ribs. “Don’t take them! You don’t know what they are.”
“A letter and three lists,” she pointedly repeated his words with a shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing more.”
When he didn’t contradict her, she took a step toward the door.
“They will kill you if they find them on you!”
She froze. “Who?”
“The men I’m running from—men who want me dead. If they discover that you’ve read them, they’ll kill you, too, just to keep you silent.”
“What did you do?” Her face paled.
He bit down a soft curse. “I trusted the wrong man.”
She gazed at him, as if deciding whether to accept this fractured half-explanation. Then she shook her head. “I can’t believe that—”
“And I don’t believe for one moment that you’re a fisherman’s widow protecting her son,” he shot back, putting her on the defensive as he attacked. He prayed that he might anger her enough to make her leave those pages behind. “What did you do that you don’t want to be noticed?”
Her gaze didn’t stray from his. The silence stretched between them for so long that the sound of the drizzling rain striking the roof filled up the little cottage.
Finally, she answered, “I refused to die.”
Well aware of his gaze on her, she carried the papers to the dresser and hid them inside his clothing.
Relief eased away his alarm. Not that having the papers nearby did him any good. The ropes at his wrists were tighter than ever, and he had no hope of retrieving them until the blasted woman allowed it. But at least she wasn’t carrying them on her person.
“I have to go into the village.” She stepped into the main room to fetch the oil slicker and slipped it on. “And no, I won’t tell anyone about you or those papers.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll be back in about an hour.” She tossed dryly over her shoulder as she left the cottage and closed the door after herself, “Don’t go anywhere!”
With a frustrated curse, Ross lay back on the bed and seethed. Never in his life had he met a woman like her.
If he weren’t careful, he wouldn’t live long enough to meet another.
Chapter 5
“For heaven’s sake!” Alice Walters called out in surprise from behind the counter as Grace rushed inside the apothecary shop to escape the rain. “What on earth are you doing out in this weather?”
“Swimming,” Grace answered, deadpan. She stopped just inside the door to peel off her hat and slicker and shake out the water before it pooled on the stone floor. And also to gather herself before she faced her old friend. Thank God she could blame her shaking on the cold.
Alice ignored her quip, allowing only a concerned huff as Grace hung up her coat and then stuck her head into the adjoining room in search of her son.
“Ethan?” she called out, hearing the panic in her voice but helpless to prevent it. “Ethan! Where are you?”
“He’s upstairs cleaning out the storage room.” Alice c
ircled around from behind the counter and took Grace’s hands in hers, squeezing them reassuringly. “Calm down. Everything’s all right. He’s perfectly fine. Slept through the storm like a log.”
A harsh sigh of relief tore from her. “I can’t help it. I—”
The words choked in her tightening throat.
Now that she was here in the shop, knowing for certain that Ethan was safe, the fear and distress that had kept her on edge since the moment Ross forced his way into her cottage eased from her. It left her body trembling, her stomach roiling, and oddly enough, somehow even more panicked now than when she’d been held prisoner.
She blinked back tears and admitted painfully, “I was worried about him.”
With a motherly smile, Alice tucked a wet curl behind Grace’s ear. The affectionate gesture wasn’t enough to soothe away her agitation at Ross’s unexpected return into her life, but thank God she could blame all that on being apart from Ethan.
“Come warm yourself.” Alice slipped her arm around Grace’s waist and gently led her to the small stove in the corner. “You shouldn’t have come out yet, not with the rain still falling like it is.”
But she definitely couldn’t stay home. “I needed to see Ethan and make certain he was safe.”
That was the God’s honest truth. She’d always put Ethan’s well being before her own, and today was no different, especially with the man-sized threat of Ross Carlisle bearing down upon her.
Alice reached for a mug, then filled it with tea from the kettle sitting on the stovetop. “You know I’ll protect him like he was my own. You didn’t have to risk your neck.”
“I wasn’t risking my neck.” Although she certainly now craned it toward the stairs, still searching for her son. She wouldn’t calm down until she saw him with her own eyes. “The storm’s nearly over. Just a bit of rain. Nothing worth fretting about it.” A lie. She was nearly soaked through by the half-mile walk into the village, although the winds had howled themselves out. “And I—I have to ask you a favor.” She bit her bottom lip. “Can you keep him here with you for the rest of the day?”
Alice frowned. “Don’t you want him home with you?”
What she wanted was for Ethan not to discover a large—and currently naked—man tied to his mother’s bed. There was no good explanation for that, and no way to be rid of Ross until nightfall. She simply couldn’t risk that he’d be seen leaving. “I need him to stay here.”
Alice stiffened. She was the only other person in the world who knew the truth of Grace’s past. “Is something wrong?”
More than I can say. Yet she dissembled, “Just a problem that blew in during the storm.”
“Do you need me to fetch Mr. Dawson to help you?”
“Not at all.” She feigned a smile of embarrassment and swallowed down the guilt of lying to her closest friend. “One of the shutters came unfastened last night, and there was some damage to the window. I don’t want Ethan there underfoot while I’m trying to fix it.” When that lie didn’t seem to mollify Alice, Grace added, “I also didn’t sleep a wink last night. I don’t think I’m in the proper condition to take care of Ethan today.” That was the God’s honest truth.
“All right.” But the way Alice said that made Grace suspect that she didn’t think she’d be catching up on her sleep this afternoon.
“By evening, everything will be back to normal.” If she could take Ross at his word as a gentleman that he would leave, that is, taking those peculiar pages right along with him. With a flicker of worry over the new mess fate had flung her into, she paused to listen for her son. Hearing nothing, she called out, “Ethan, now!”
A head peered over the top of the stairs. “Yes, Mother?”
Thank God. “Come down so I can see you.” And pull him into her arms. Even now she ached at having been so long apart from him, from worrying about him every minute since she’d left him here yesterday afternoon—twice as much since she recognized Ross and realized the threat he unwittingly posed. She shuddered, the fear so strong that it pained her.
“All right,” Ethan heaved out in aggravation. When she saw him grimace, her heart tore.
He dutifully thumped his way down the narrow stairs, taking his sweet time. Every second of delay agonized her. When he finally got close enough, she flung her arms around him and pulled him to her, not caring that she was crushing him.
She closed her eyes, choking back the soft sob of relief that he was safely back in her arms where he belonged.
With a scowl, he pushed her away and stepped back. His face darkened with that same defiant expression he always wore lately, which ripped her heart even more.
“Were you all right last night?” She brushed her fingers through his hair the way she’d done since he was still in leading strings. “Did you listen to Mrs. Walters and do as she asked?”
“Yes.” He ducked his head away, just out of her reach.
Her hand fell to her side. She forced a smile, pretending that it didn’t pain her that her son was no longer a baby. But he needed her protection now more than ever. “What did you two do to pass the time?”
He shrugged a shoulder.
“We played games and sang songs,” Alice answered for him. “And roasted apples over the fire.”
Her smile widened with relief that his night away had been so ordinary. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Guess so,” he grumbled.
At that moment, Grace had a terrible glimpse of how sullen and dour he would be as a young man. He was already becoming a handful and challenging her more and more every day. However would she handle him?
“What did you do last night, Mother?”
Her stomach somersaulted. He was watching her closely, waiting for an answer—Heavens, she could never tell him the truth! “I went to bed early.” Not entirely a lie. She had gone to bed early, only to be taken prisoner a few hours later. “Then spent the entire night missing you terribly.”
At that, Ethan scowled. Only a few months ago, he would have flung his arms around her neck and hugged her, happy to see her and eager to return her affections. But not now. Her little boy was disappearing before her eyes.
“I’m helping Mrs. Walters sort through some old boxes.” He glanced longingly toward the stairs, and toward escape from his mother. “Can I go back up?”
Forcing her smile not to waver, Grace pressed her lips tightly together to hold back a sob of emotion and nodded jerkily.
If Ethan saw her eyes glistening, he didn’t pay it any mind as he hurried upstairs, his shoes thumping just as loudly as when he’d come down. Except now much faster in his rush to be away.
“He’s a boy who wants to be a man,” Alice explained quietly in an attempt to assuage the pain of his rejection. “You remind him that he was a babe not so long ago.”
Grace knew that. Yet that bittersweet knowledge didn’t lessen the sting.
Alice handed her a mug of tea, then fixed her with a hard look. “He needs a man’s influence in his life. It was fine before, when he was a babe and you took care of everything for him. But he’s growing now, and he needs a man to show him how to behave.”
“He has men in Sea Haven who can teach him that.” She bristled at the implication that Ethan lacked anything so essential. She’d given him everything. Including her life.
Alice scoffed. “The men down at the docks and in the public house?”
“His schoolmaster,” she countered, listing every man whose orbit brought him into her son’s life, “Vicar Brennan, Mr. Dawson at the mercantile…” Even as she said their names, the list of men seemed pathetically weak. “I’ll teach him what they can’t.”
“You’re going to teach him to shave, are you?” she pressed. “The difference between when a man needs to answer with his fists and when he’s better off walking away? What he needs to know about being with a woman and how babes are got?”
“Yes, I will,” she said as resolutely as possible, despite the doubt pinching in her belly.
Grace nearly choked on the tea. Oh, the very last thing she needed in her life was a man!
“You should have a man to take care of you, one who spoils you the way you deserve and protects you.” Alice’s face softened. “One to put another babe in your belly. You know you want that.”
Her chest tightened at that temptation. How many nights since David died had she lain awake, staring into the darkness and wanting exactly that…for a man to put his strong arms around her and make her feel safe? To make her feel desired and beautiful again? To give her another child that she could love as much as she loved Ethan?
But all that died with David and was buried deep beneath his brother Vincent’s threats.
The tea turned to acid on her tongue. “I can never have that, you know it.”
“What I know is that you’ve been keeping secrets for so long that you don’t recognize the truth. It’s time you stopped now. For your sake and Ethan’s.”
Alice’s quiet words stabbed her with a spike of fresh guilt. Secrets. So many secrets! How could she even begin to sort through them all? At that very moment, in fact, she was keeping one very large, hard bodied, and handsome secret from the world.
She swallowed down the urge to confide in her friend, knowing the risk was simply too great. Later, when Ross was gone and no longer a threat, they could both have a good laugh at the desperate measures she’d once again been forced to take. Until then, he had to remain her secret.
“The boy has to be told the truth about his father.”
Her shoulders sagged with exasperation. That Alice would bring this up, now of all times, nearly ten years to the day when she’d fled the only life she’d ever known—she was overstepping.
But Grace would never have survived without her. When she’d first arrived in Sea Haven, with her large belly nearly bursting, she had no money, no family, and nowhere to go for sanctuary. By sheer luck Alice had stumbled across her, quite literally, when she’d collapsed outside the apothecary shop. The woman took her in, at first only to nurse her through the birth and help with the newborn whom Grace knew nothing about how to care for. But then the two became best friends, and Grace stayed in Sea Haven long after she should have moved on, settling into the old cottage on the bluff with Ethan, helping Alice in the shop, and taking whatever work she could find to support them.
How the Earl Entices Page 5