To Love and Protect

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “This is what I want to do in the morning,” and he shared his plan with the innkeeper. “Think it will work?”

  “Yes, sir! And if you stick to the back roads, you can take your time, and he won’t know where to track you.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  “Good. Thank you for letting me know. Will you have trays sent up to our room?”

  “Of course.” Money changed hands, and Justin returned to his wife.

  “What was that all about?” Clare sat propped against the headboard looking thoroughly loved.

  “We have a play to act out tomorrow morning.”

  “Do tell.” Clare’s eyes went from frightened to angry to gleaming with mischief. “Count me in.”

  ***

  The next morning, they stood hidden in the shadows of the common room. The innkeeper’s son and one of the maids stood dressed in Justin and Clarissa’s clothing. He wore a hat pulled low and the collar of his greatcoat turned up. She had the hood of her cloak pulled up to conceal her face, golden ringlets escaping here and there.

  “Thank you again for your kindness,” Clarissa said loudly enough that her voice would carry through the open door.

  “Yes, next time I travel to Scotland, I’ll be certain to stay here,” Justin agreed. They remained in the shadows as the couple entered the rented conveyance, luggage included, and headed towards the main road that would take them to London. The plan would be that they would ride a day’s journey from here. The maid had family she could stay with, and Justin made sure the boy had enough money to stay at an inn. They would then return home the next day. By the time Franklin realized he had followed the wrong people, he would be a day behind them.

  They waited patiently. Almost a quarter hour later, Hamilton’s ducal carriage passed by going the same direction as the one before it. A second unmarked carriage appeared and after quickly hugging the innkeeper’s wife, Clarissa found herself bustled inside. Justin had paid them with promises of more as soon as he returned to London.

  Justin had decided to take the less traveled roads to London in hopes of eluding Franklin. They would be able to spend more time together this way as well, but the roads were worse and the travel slower. At least they were out of the elements and no longer on horseback. Justin kept insisting that she rest and nap as much as possible. Sometimes she thought he kept her up at night participating in illicit activities just so she would sleep during the travels. On the third day of travel, she couldn’t take him telling her to rest anymore.

  “Southerby, I’m fine.”

  “I just want to make sure that ye are,” he said slipping into his brogue.

  She merely rolled her eyes and watched out the window at the passing scenery.

  “Clare, do you have any idea how much you scared all of us when you fell ill? I found you in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. It was horrible. You took years off of my life I’ll never get back…” He broke off and stared at her until she looked at him. “Clare, I want to make certain you are properly cared for, and that I provide you everything you need.”

  Properly cared for, she thought dismally. She did not want to be properly cared for. She wanted to be properly loved. Did he not realize how much she loved him? But then again, she had not told him either. Baring her soul to have it horribly rejected was not something she was prepared to do. She felt one of Justin’s gloved fingers under her chin pulling her gaze up to him.

  “Clare, I care about you and only want what’s best for you.”

  “I know,” she replied, a sad smile on her face. He leaned back in his seat, a puzzled frown creasing his handsome face. “I have wondered something on several occasions and keep forgetting to ask,” she said, trying to erase that look on his face. She feared it would lead to questions she was not yet ready to answer.

  “What is that?”

  “How did you find me so quickly?”

  “I followed you.”

  “You did not.”

  “I did.”

  “But how?” she asked incredulously, relieved to see him once more looking like the old light-hearted Justin. “I watched you leave while I hid. I watched your father go back to the house. I heard the horse’s hooves fade into the night. You couldn’t have followed me.”

  “But I did.”

  “Explain then.”

  “You were hiding in the loft of the barn.”

  “How did you know that?” exasperation laced her voice.

  “When me and Da’ were talking, I noticed straw falling from between the boards in the loft. That usually only happens when something or someone is up there to sift it around.”

  “I see.”

  “When I hugged Da’, I told him my suspicions and asked him to tell everyone not to worry about you. If you wanted to go back to London, I would see you safely there.”

  “Not as clever as I thought I was,” she said ruefully, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

  “I wouldn’t say that. You were so long coming out of the stables that I thought maybe you left another way. Once I saw you, I let out a sigh of relief. Then I carefully began following you until I realized the storm had moved in, and we would need to take shelter for the night.”

  “I guess I should thank you.”

  “I know a way you could thank me,” he said huskily, a wicked grin on his face.

  “Justin, we are in a carriage.”

  “So we are.”

  “What if someone hears? What am I saying? We can’t.”

  “Oh, but we can,” he pulled her across to him until she straddled his lap. His hands snaked up to caress her full breasts, their rigid peaks pushing at the fabric.

  “What if the driver hears?”

  “You are fairly loud,” he replied teasingly.

  “Justin,” she swatted him playfully, and then moaned as he began running one hand up her leg, under her garments.

  “You’ll just have to find a way to be quiet.” Later, when she found her release, Clarissa let Justin’s cloth-covered shoulder muffle her scream.

  ***

  After weeks on the road, Justin announced they should make London within the next few days. So as not to push anyone, Justin had them traveling at a very leisurely pace. They had successfully eluded Franklin, and it felt as if they were on a true honeymoon. Instead of seeing exotic places, though, they weaved their way back and forth across England stopping at various places along the way and taking in the sights. Clarissa found it to be fun to put everything else out of her mind for a while and just focus on her and Justin. Glimpses of the old, carefree Justin could be seen once more.

  He did remain solicitous as to how she felt, continuously checking on her. Clarissa kept assuring him she had recovered, but he would never be able to get the image of her in the throes of her illness out of his mind. If necessary, they would only go from village to village until they reached London. Be honest, you are enjoying your time alone with your wife, he chastised himself. He knew once they returned to London, they would be pulled back into the whirl of the ton, the intrigue surrounding Lorraine and Franklin, and his duties to the government.

  Justin tried to focus on reading over some old London newssheets he picked up at the coaching inn they had stayed at last night. It seemed Gertie had hosted a party that made the social column. She would be pleased. She and Mamma truly needed to get together again. He knew that writing was a poor substitute to actually visiting in person.

  He turned the page and a notice caught his eye. Allen Henry, Lord Marsden announces his engagement to Lorraine Blackerby, Dowager Duchess of Hamilton. Good grief, the woman did not waste any time. How had she managed to have Hamilton declared dead? The authorities would not have declared a powerful peer of the realm like the Duke of Hamilton dead without substantial proof. Imagine the shock to one and all if he walked in on the wedding ceremony. Unfortunately, that would prove too dangerous. Justin also wondered how she and Marsden had bypassed societ
y’s dictates of waiting the requisite year of mourning upon the death of a spouse.

  According to those in and around London, Hamilton had been gone six months. Shock passed through Justin as he realized how much time had passed since he received the summons to Gertie’s house. There had been the initial month that Hamilton had disappeared. Then it had taken him and Clarissa several weeks to even locate the aging duke. Once they had found him, they had endured the travel by sea to Scotland. Before they had known it, December had slipped into January. Then Clarissa had fallen ill, and they had spent more weeks. Justin looked out the window at the passing landscape. Now here they were in mid-April and flowers pushed up through the damp earth, and trees were unfurling their leaves.

  He lowered the newssheet and watched Clarissa. Her head rested on the wall behind her, elongating her neck and tempting him to kiss it. He could not resist the temptation. Leaning across the distance, he placed a lingering kiss on the side of her neck.

  “Don’t,” he heard her say in a strained voice. He pulled back, truly studying her, not just admiring her assets. Her face looked pasty and her lips were clenched firmly together. Justin watched her swallow convulsively. Beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead even in the coolness of the carriage. Even though April had come upon them, the days were still cool, and heralded rain on most days.

  “Clare, what’s the matter?” Just at that moment, the carriage hit a hole in the road and lurched sickeningly.

  “Stop the carriage,” she got out weakly, a hand flew to her mouth. Justin quickly shouted the orders, and before it came to a complete stop, Clarissa escaped out the door. Once he disembarked, he found her loosing her breakfast into some bushes on the side of the road. She had been wearing her hair loose in the carriage, so Justin quickly held it back from her face.

  “Is my lady all right?” called the driver.

  “She will be,” Justin replied. When she quit being sick, Justin jogged back to the carriage and returned shortly with a piece of cloth and a flask of liquid. “Don’t drink it,” he said as he handed it to her, “it might make you sick again. Just rinse and spit.” Clarissa nodded her agreement. After she had done that and mopped her sweat-soaked face, Justin helped her to stand upright, letting her lean against him for support. “How are you feeling now?”

  “My stomach aches. Just like when I was seasick only this was all of a sudden. I hate being sick. I was so enjoying the return trip. How long before we are back in London?” a quiet despair had entered her voice.

  “A few days.”

  “I have never felt so horrible in my life.”

  “Do you think you caught something at one of the inns?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to try to go on?”

  “All right,” she said warily, eyeing the pitted road ahead of them.

  Justin helped her into the carriage and helped her get settled. They traveled on for another hour before Clarissa once again halted their progress.

  “We’re stopping at the next inn.”

  “I just want to go home. I don’t even care if Franklin does find us.”

  “I know, love, but we can’t keep this up with you feeling bad. Hopefully you will have time to rest, and we can get back on the road in a day or two.”

  They pulled into an inn right before noon. After paying for a room, Justin helped Clarissa up the stairs and saw her settled. She had already fallen asleep before he even left the room to see about something to settle her stomach.

  ***

  Several hours later, Clarissa woke to shadows in the room. Justin sat beside her on the bed, a worried look on his face.

  “How long did I sleep?” she asked stretching with a yawn.

  “Hours,” he replied distractedly.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been worried out of my mind that you had a relapse.”

  “You can’t worry yourself like this every time I get sick.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m starving.”

  He eyed her skeptically. “Are you certain that’s wise after this morning?”

  She just rolled her eyes before sending him down for food.

  ***

  Justin woke early the next morning and let the coachman know they would be leaving in an hour. He returned to the room to shave and opened the door to the sound of Clarissa being sick again.

  “Dammit, Clarissa, what’s the matter?” She gave him an evil look before she leaned against the wall in exhaustion. “Yesterday morning you were sick. You took a nap once we arrived here and when you awoke and ate everything in sight. I told you not to eat that much, but you didn’t listen to me and now look. You’re sick again.”

  “Are you finished?”

  “I don’t know.” A knock sounded on the door. A bubbly young girl stood on the other side holding a tray of food. The smell wafted into the room and Clarissa turned green. “Please go away,” she got out before becoming ill once more. She was so focused on trying to make sure her stomach stayed within the confines of her body, that she missed the exchange at the door. When nothing more happened for several minutes, she leaned back into a warm, muscular wall. Exhausted, she leaned gratefully against her husband, who wiped her face and neck with a cool cloth.

  “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I wish I knew,” she chuckled softly.

  “How can you laugh?”

  “The alternative is to throw a tantrum and wail to the heavens about the unfairness of it all, and frankly, I just don’t have the energy at this moment. It seems like I have spent more of my time in your presence sick than not. I promise you, I’m usually the picture of health.”

  Another knock sounded on the door, and Justin got to his feet. Before crossing the room, he made certain Clarissa was settled and decent. He opened the door to the innkeeper’s wife this time.

  “My daughter said your wife’s feelin’ poorly. Thought I would pop up and see if she needed a woman’s assistance,” she peeked around the door and saw Clarissa sitting very unladylike on the floor, propped up against the wall. She leaned her head sideways against the washstand, looking too tired and weak to hold it up herself. “Oh, you poor mite. What’s ailing you?”

  “I wish I knew,” silvery tears tracked down Clarissa’s pale cheeks at the stranger’s kindness.

  “You just tell me how you’ve been feeling, and we’ll go from there. Aye?” The motherly woman crouched next to Clarissa and patted her shoulder. Clarissa started near the beginning, recalling her seasickness then the attack she suffered in Scotland. Then she told her how she had suddenly taken ill in the coach yesterday and then again upon waking.

  Justin stayed across the room as the two women conversed quietly, but he kept a careful eye on Clarissa and remained at the ready. The older woman said something and Clarissa’s face paled. In only a few moments he saw a wild, haunted look in her eyes and she began shaking her head.

  “No, no, it can’t be. It will be too close. No,” she wailed, before becoming sick once more.

  “There, there. I know just the thing. Helped settle my stomach every time I found myself in the family way. I’ll be back,” the woman stood and crossed the room. Her words rang in Justin’s ears, and he stood frozen to his spot. “Your wife needs you right now, young man. Go on. Her sickness isn’t catching.” Justin felt himself cross the room as if in a fog.

  Clarissa felt as if her she would expel her stomach at any moment, but unfortunately nothing made an appearance. Finally, her stomach stopped its revolt. She used the washcloth once more to mop her face. She leaned back and saw the frozen stance of her husband.

  “You said your courses…”

  “I know, but that has been weeks ago,” she cut him off. “I should have had them again. And we have been very…umm…amorous,” she stammered, a hot flush covered her skin.

  “But…”

  “But what, Justin
? Do you think I alone am to blame for all of this? It took two of us, and if you remember, I asked you to do whatever you could to prevent a child.”

  “It’s not always that easy. Are you sure you weren’t using me for stud services?” he asked, an accusing note in his voice.

  “What are you trying to say?”

  He should have heard the warning in her words, but was too consumed by his own thoughts. “I’m saying you should have turned me away. You should have told me to stay out of your bed until we knew it would be well after your birthday before a babe made an appearance. Perhaps you decided your father’s idea had merit.”

  “I can’t believe you.”

  “Believe it. Is it true, Clarissa? Did you use me for what I could do for you? Give you?”

  “Go to Hell, Southerby and take my father with you. I hope you both will be very happy together, what with his machinations and your suspicions.” A knock sounded at the door and then the motherly woman let herself into the room, seemingly oblivious to the tension around her.

  “Here you go now. Eat this dry bread and sip this tea and you’ll be right as rain.”

  “Thank you,” Clarissa mumbled the words and took a nibble of the bread.

  “Sir, your lady should rest in the mornings if you insist on traveling. I know it will take you longer, but she will feel more the thing in the afternoons, if she is like most.”

  “And if she’s not?”

  “It won’t matter what time of day you travel, she will be miserable.”

  “Thank you. Here’s an extra coin for your trouble and seeing to my wife.”

  “Thank you, sir, but it isn’t necessary.”

  “I insist. Thank you.” The woman bobbed once more as she exited the room. When the innkeeper’s wife left, a heavy silence hung between the two in the room. Justin looked up in time to see Clarissa take another hesitant bite of the bread, her eyes shot daggers at him.

  “I need some fresh air,” he announced before turning and leaving the room. He heard something hit the door with a loud thud just as he closed it. Justin worked hard to release the tension in his neck and shoulders as he stepped outside. He stopped to let the coachman know that they would not be leaving until after noon and asked the man to make inquiries about upcoming villages and how long it would take them to reach London if they only traveled during the afternoons. They would be traveling at a snail’s pace, and they were quickly running out of time to confront Lorraine and Franklin. Regardless, he would not risk Clarissa’s health.