He thought back on his idea to find Penelope a husband who could give her all she deserved and desired in life. Idiot. He was a fool to think he could logically and rationally hand her to another man. His head said he should, but his heart grew green with jealousy thinking of someone else in her bed, in her heart, giving her a child.
Possessiveness roared through every inch of his body at the thought of any man taking her from him.
“What are your intentions? Penelope has been hurt enough and she would never allow you into her bed unless she felt something for you.”
What were his intentions? He wished he knew what he should do. Honor urged him to walk away after he’d ensured her freedom. He was going blind. “Perhaps all she feels is pity,” Stephen said. “How can I ask her to marry me? How? You tell me. It would not be honorable to tie her to a man going blind after the terrible life she has led in her first marriage. She deserves so much more.”
Jonathan cursed. “Christ, don’t p-play the martyr. Do you think I would turn my back on Dorothea if God forbid she, too, started to go blind? When you love, you love everything about a person—the good and the bad. None of us are perfect. Look at my s-stutter.”
“That’s different. I don’t think you are grasping the enormity of my problem. I might go totally blind.”
Jonathan reined in his stead. “Might? M-might? What exactly is your prognosis?”
Stephen pulled Charger to a halt. “They don’t exactly know. I will see less and less of anything other than what is directly in front of me, and either begin to see only shadows or nothing at all.”
“So you m-might not go completely b-blind? What happened to your father’s s-sight?”
He looked away and knew his reply would raise Jonathan’s ire. “I don’t know. Mother never discussed it.” He saw the grim line of Jonathan’s jaw. “Yes, you are right. I need to talk with her, but why else would my father have shot himself?”
“Why, indeed. I n-never took you for a c-coward, but ending one’s life is a mortal sin and it’s also the action of a w-weakling; and you are not that, my friend.”
His temper began to boil. He swung Charger around to face Jonathan. “Are you calling my father a coward? You have no idea…”
“You can look at me with th-thunder in your eyes all you like but w-what honorable man leaves his w-wife with young children and places the burden of his t-title on a young boy?”
“That is why I will never marry.” Stephen could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He did not like this conversation.
“Because if you w-want to cowardly leave, you can? What about your mother, your sisters? Since learning of the p-problem with your eyes, Dorothea lies awake at n-night consumed with worry. She’s petrified you’ll do what her father did and it kills her inside. She wants her brother around—she loves you. She was only six when he died. You’re more like a father to her.”
Pain ripped through his chest. “Penelope wants children. Why would she marry the likes of me, when if I give her a child, it, too, might go blind? How can I have a child and do that to them? Why would she shackle herself to a cripple?”
Jonathan sat, nodding. “The child that Dorothea is c-carrying may well go blind. It may w-well have my stutter. It may well die of illness, or a fall from a horse, or any n-number of things. But it might also live to a r-ripe old age. Neither I, nor you, are God. You have no idea what l-life has in store for us. I trust that what happens in this l-life happens for a reason. I found Dorothea by chance and I thank God I did every day.”
“Penelope didn’t find me by chance. She sought me out. She wanted me to help her, that was all.”
“You know Penelope was d-damaged by Carmichael. She refused to c-contemplate another husband but you have ch-changed that. Dorothea told me she has learned that not all men are m-monsters and that perhaps r-remarrying is a risk worth taking with the right man. Why c-can you not be the right man?”
Stephen sat up tall on his horse. “Tell me this. If you have a daughter, would you let her marry a man likely to go blind? A man who might give her children who also might go blind. Would you want that life for her?” He saw the answer on Jonathan’s face. “No? Nor would I for any sister or daughter of mine. So why do you suggest it is a path for Penelope?”
“Love. Because when I see her look at you I see love. Love changes everything. If my daughter found a man who was crippled, blind, or poor, but they loved each other, really loved each other, I would not stand in her way. Love is very powerful. It can bring a man to his knees, make a man give up his life, and make a man so happy it’s almost unbelievable.” He moved his horse closer. “Penelope loves you. What you need to decide is whether you love her too. Do you love her enough to face what life is sending you—together—side by side? She is. I know it. But then she’s always been one of the most courageous people I know.” He kicked his horse into a trot. “Don’t be a fool and don’t let her down.”
With that Jonathan sent his horse into a gallop not even realizing he’d not stuttered once in his last impassioned speech. Stephen sat, taking deep breaths, trying to get his warring emotions under control. He wasn’t a coward. He wasn’t.
Love.
Their agreement had been a whim. Oh, he wanted to help her but not as much as he’d wanted to seduce her. To see and touch her beauty. But now the seducer had categorically been seduced. He’d not wanted anything more than pleasure, so how had he come to find his heart in her hands? It scared the hell out of him.
Did she love him? Could she love him even knowing his secret? If only she said that she loved him. He suddenly wanted that more than anything. To know she accepted him and his worsening sight regardless of all that would bring, he thought achingly, rubbing his chest where his heart lay locked away behind a fortress.
He remembered her smile as he’d left her bed this morning. Perhaps wistfully he could not help feeling that she did at least care for him. But were her feelings deeper? His pride would not accept that all she felt was pity.
He hated his sudden vulnerability. He’d purposely never allowed himself to get close to a woman, staying on his guard, shutting off his emotions. He played the seducer, the rake who left before anyone got hurt, yet each time he left a woman it made his heart that little bit colder. He would allow no woman to be with him out of pity.
He had to know. Had to know that if he allowed himself to love her she would be with him forever, regardless of what that meant, including having children. As she had said, she may not even be able to have any. If she could not love him without him giving her a child, then did that mean she did not love him enough? He could find out the truth without staying with her and prolonging his suffering and perhaps hers.
As he watched Jonathan gallop up ahead of him, a cold sweat broke out on his brow. He briefly closed his eyes in fear-filled anguish, his heart pounding in time with his horse’s hooves hitting the dirt. He should ask her outright, but if she rejected him he did not think he would ever have the courage to reach out to a woman again.
Was Jonathan right? Was he a coward at heart?
Damn it to hell, he was not a coward. As his heart thundered in his ears, he made a decision. Tonight he would ask her. Ask her what was in her heart, but he knew that also meant he had to have the courage to tell her what was in his.
Chapter 16
The two men arrived at Nick’s Cove in silence. Nothing more was said; there was nothing more to say.
Instead, they dismounted and made their way around the rocky shoreline, leaving their horses tied to a post where one small jetty jutted into the sea.
Both men drew out a pistol from their pockets. “I wonder if there are two ways out of this cave.”
Stephen indicated with his pistol. “Only one way to find out.”
Trying not to make too much noise on the crunchy gravel, they entered the cave, but stopped for a
moment until their eyes grew accustomed to the dim light.
“I’m going to be pretty useless in here. I’m not good in dim light. My eyes don’t function properly. Perhaps I should stay near the entrance in case he tries to slip past you?”
Jonathan merely nodded and moved farther into the darkness. Before panic could grow, Stephen stepped back toward the light. He felt useless. If Jonathan got into trouble and called for him to help, he would be stumbling blind in there.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long for Jonathan to return. “It looks like he’s l-living here. David was right. But he’s not h-here at the moment. The embers of the f-fire he has going are still hot so he couldn’t have left long ago.”
Stephen leaned back against one of the large boulders at the cave entrance. “Then we wait.”
“What are we g-going to do when we catch him?”
He closed his eyes and let the sun warm him. “Well, I’m not going to hand him over to the magistrate, especially if there is a chance he is in league with him. I think I’ll take him to London. To one of the magistrates there.”
“Maybe it would be b-better if we let him go free and try and f-follow him to see who the smuggler is. How else will we find him?”
“I was thinking the exact opposite. If Stewart goes missing, the Frenchman will need to set up a new supply contact or his business disappears. He won’t want that. You would want to find a new partner as soon as possible.”
Jonathan laughed. “And let me guess. You are g-going to find someone to be that new partner.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you have s-someone in mind? It can’t be s-someone that he might know. I suspect he knows most people in the v-village.”
“But the smuggler might not know all of Carmichael’s connections. Perhaps it could be a man of higher social breeding who is concerned that his merchandise is no longer available because of Carmichael’s demise.”
“It can’t be you or me. Stewart’s likely to have already w-warned the Frenchman.”
“You are right. I have someone in mind. He is a good friend, who is a bit of a recluse so if the Frenchman did any checking, it could be plausible that my friend could be in the market for his cargo.”
“How long w-would it take for this man to get h-here?”
Stephen pushed off from the rock that he was leaning against. “He’s near Cambridge.”
“Has this man got a name?”
“Guy Neville. His brother’s the Earl of Argyle.”
Jonathan became quite animated. “Neville. I remember h-him from Eton. Of course, good choice. I h-heard he’d left the army a few months ago. He fought with you in T-turkey all those years ago, didn’t he?”
“Yes, and I’m sure he’d be happy to help. I’ll send word this afternoon and ask him to journey to Hadleigh.”
Just then they heard a rock fall right above them, and the sounds of someone scrambling.
Stephen looked up. “God damn. It’s Stewart. Do you think he heard our plan? We have to capture him before he can talk to anyone.”
The two men set off at a run, slipping and sliding over the rocks, and as they came around the rocks Stephen cursed out loud as he saw Stewart mount Jonathan’s horse. It reared and bucked at the unknown man on its back. It gave the men much-needed time to gain ground.
They had just about reached him where Stewart sat with the horse going around and around. Just as they were about to reach his side, Stewart got the horse under control and kicked hard and galloped off.
“Go. G-go after him!” Jonathan yelled.
Stephen jumped onto Charger’s back while Jonathan untied the reins, throwing them at him, and soon he was after Stewart in hot pursuit. His horse was much faster than Jonathan’s so he hoped it would not be a long chase. They could not afford to let Stewart get away.
During the chase, every time Stephen thought he was about to catch Stewart he slipped away. Stewart wouldn’t need to change horses until near dusk. Stephen was trying to give Charger a rest by walking him when he thought Stewart would be resting his horse.
He knew by nightfall both of them would have to find fresh mounts. Stewart would likely have to try to steal another horse. If so, Stewart could change horses wherever he found one. Stephen, on the other hand, had to find a staging post.
As Charger began to tire he’d hung back enough, hoping Stewart thought that he’d lost Stephen.
As night began to fall he prayed Stewart had not already changed mounts. Worse still, it was a full moon. Stewart, if he stuck to the road, could travel at a good pace. Plus, he had no idea of what Stewart’s ultimate destination was.
Stephen wondered if he would be better to turn back but he knew he was only thirty miles east of Bedford. Close to Alex’s estate. He wouldn’t give up just yet. He could shelter there if he needed.
It was as he trotted into Henlow that he decided to risk changing horses. He knew the owner of the coaching inn from previous visits to Alex’s estate.
“Lord Clevedon. Welcome. Are you on your way to the Duke of Bedford’s estate?”
He dismounted and stretched his legs. “I wish I was, Douglas. But I’m following a man who is dangerous, and a horse thief. He stole Lord Helmstone’s horse but I think I’ve lost him.”
Douglas scratched his head. “There’s a man changing horses in the stable behind me. Tall, thin, red-haired chap. Didn’t give his name.”
Blood surged through Stephen’s veins as he pushed Charger’s reins into Douglas’s hands, and said, “Get another horse ready for me quickly.” Stewart must have thought that he’d lost Stephen. He raced around the side of the building with his pistol raised. Only when he entered the yard, he was greeted by the sound of a pistol shot and he felt a searing pain in his shoulder and his pistol dropped to the ground.
Stewart laughed as he galloped away.
Even though he’d been shot, Stephen ran back to where Douglas had found him a mount and with Douglas giving him a leg up, soon he was galloping after Stewart, who only had a few minutes’ head start.
He tried to ignore the throbbing in his arm. He looked down to see what damage the bullet had done and his head spun. There was more blood than he’d imagined or liked to see. As his head grew lighter he knew there was no way he could catch Stewart. Instead, he turned his horse toward Bedford and hoped he would make it.
Chapter 17
Stephen could hear a woman’s soft voice. It sounded familiar. He felt his heart speed up in the darkness but then he realized it was because his eyes were closed, not because he’d gone blind. His eyelids were heavy and it was an effort to open them.
When he finally pried them apart he had to close them again against the strong sunlight flooding the room.
“He opened his eyes. He’s awake.”
Penelope? Penelope was here. Where was he?
She bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You gave me quite the fright. I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered, thinking that he could not hear her. He wanted to burst with joy. She cared. She definitely cared for him.
“I told you he just needed to sleep. He’s lost a lot of blood. If my brother Harris had not found him…”
“But he did and I am so very grateful. Also, thank you for sending word to me. I was worried sick. This is all my fault. If I had not asked him to help me.”
“You were not to know this would happen.” His words drew both Alex and Penelope to his bedside.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend. You have been sleeping for a few days.”
He let his eyelids flutter open. “I’m only just awake. I feel as weak as a kitten.”
“Don’t you ever get shot again, do you hear me?” Penelope scolded. He let her hand slip into his and he gave it a slight squeeze.
“So we have lost Stewart?” he asked.
Alex added, “I agree.”
He was so light-headed something about what she’d said was important but he couldn’t think why. His head was still spinning. He closed his eyes.
“I’ll leave you two alone. She’s been an excellent nursemaid.” Stephen could hear the amusement in Alex’s voice.
He drifted off to sleep once more, puzzling over what was wrong with Penelope’s words.
* * *
—
He was alive and awake, thank the Lord. She didn’t know what she would have done if he’d died. She had brought him into this tangled web of deceit and had not told him the total truth. He had been stumbling around blind when she could have told him far more and perhaps he would not have had to race off after Stewart.
When she’d received Alex’s missive, telling her Stephen was gravely hurt, the world went black. She didn’t even have to think; she’d raced to be by his side. For almost a week he’d lain comatose. She rarely believed there was a God but she prayed so hard, begging for his forgiveness. She even said she’d tell everyone the truth if God let him live.
She sat next to his bed and ran her fingers over his forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Always tousled. Always looking like he had just gotten out of bed, and he stirred her senses like no other man ever had. Even injured and weak she still wanted him. She’d always want him.
But would he want her when she revealed the truth? That she’d lied, that she’d used him. That she’d known the truth all along.
He was already scared to let a woman in because he was going blind and he didn’t think a woman could love him enough to saddle herself with a blind man. He worried that a woman could only feel pity for him. If he thought she’d been using him, leading him along, that she’d selected him because of his eyesight issues…That may have been how it started out but that was not the case now. But how could she convince him of that?
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