At length, he looked at her again, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle. “I’m sorry this frightens you. I know I’ve not earned your trust, but I can promise you…your secrets are safe with me.”
She wanted to believe him. There were so many reasonsto believe him. But there was no guarantee. There was always risk, and while her secrets might very well be safe with him, they were, without question, safer with her.
Besides, he could keep her confidence and still be put off by the truth. “Thank you, but I’d still rather wait until tomorrow.”
He glanced back at the windows once more, frowned again, then gave a single, grudging nod. “All right. We’ll wait until morning.”
***
The trip to the stable was a mad dash through sheets of rain that left the blanket Gabriel held over their heads sopping wet, and their boots splattered with mud.
Jane was laughing as they climbed the ladder to the hayloft. She felt like a child who’d been caught playing in the rain.
Gabriel secured the lantern he’d brought along to a hook on the wall, then began to prepare a bed with the blankets and pillows they’d filched from the house.
Jane watched him as she unlaced her boots and set them aside. He’d thought of everything. The bedding, the light, food, drink. He’d even taken a book from the library for her.
And he’d written the note to the homeowners before they’d left.
Gabriel glanced over at her and smiled. It was brief, but it was that wonderful, slightly wicked, and inviting smile that made her feel singled out. It warmed her right down to her toes. She adored that smile, but she couldn’t help but wonder: Would he offer it tomorrow after they talked? Or would he forever look at her differently? If he looked at her at all.
She couldn’t bear the thought of it. Couldn’t stand the idea of losing him not because of something she’d done, but simply because of whom she was.
She didn’t want to risk it yet. She wanted to drag the night out as long as possible, put the inevitable off for as long as she could. But the lamp would need to be extinguished soon, and then there would be no more smiles, no more talking or laughter. There would be only the familiar sound of silence and a long night of fearing what was to come.
Not yet, she thought as Gabriel straightened from laying the last blanket and turned toward the lamp.
She wasn’t ready yet.
“Wait.”
He looked at her, a question on his face.
And she took a risk. A risk that would make even Mrs. Harmon blush. She closed the distance between them, stood on tiptoe, rested her hands against his chest, and pressed her mouth to his.
It was a kiss to remember later. A moment she’d stolen from fear and uncertainty to keep for herself, and she held on to it for as long as she could. Every second she pilfered was a second she could relive later, long after his smile was gone.
She stayed on tiptoe, her eyes shut and her lips laid lightly against his as she soaked in each and every detail. The taste of him. The scent of his skin. The soft brush of his breath. The feel of linen beneath her palms, and the hard muscle beneath.
The very hard, very tight muscle she realized. Gabriel had gone perfectly, eerily still.
And it occurred to her suddenly that perhaps gentlemen did not appreciate having uninvited attentions thrust upon them for selfish reasons any more than ladies did.
Mortified, she drew away, her cheeks burning. “I beg your pardon. I shouldn’t have—”
He seemed to snap then, like a cord that had been pulled too tight. Before she’d taken a single step backward, his arms wrapped around her and yanked her against him, and his mouth descended on hers in ardent demand.
It was nothing at all like the kiss on the train. That had been practiced and smooth, rendering her breathless.
This was… Oh, it was so much better. It was wild and frantic and glorious. It didn’t leave her breathless; it left her mindless. It eclipsed everything else. The fear, the storm, the secrets and lies. There was only Gabriel, his mouth moving over hers roughly, his hands roving possessively over her back, her hips, her waist. As if he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop.
His tongue delved into her mouth, a long, wicked glide that made her gasp.
He pulled away with a shudder to rasp something against her mouth she couldn’t properly hear. She wanted to ask him what he’d said. Now more than ever, she wanted to understand the words he offered. But she couldn’t focus long enough to form the question. His lips were traveling along her jaw, sending her thoughts scattering before they’d completely formed.
She shivered as he reached her ear, and couldn’t suppress a helpless moan when he found a spot on her throat just above her shoulder. An ache of pleasure shot through every nerve in her body. Her fingers dove into the thick, silken hair at the back of his head. And then his mouth was on hers again, exploring, devouring…
He wrenched away suddenly, leaving her off balance and disoriented. It took several seconds to orient herself, to force her mind clear of the drugging effects of the kiss.
She found Gabriel standing several feet away, his breath coming fast and hard, and his frosty blue eyes staring at her with such intensity that she felt rather like prey caught in the sights of a wolf.
“Gabriel?” she whispered, and was surprised by how pleasantly tender and swollen her mouth felt forming his name. She licked her bottom lip, fascinated by the curious sensation.
His eyed darted to the movement. His hands curled and uncurled into fists at his side. “God, you tempt me, Jane.”
That was good, wasn’t it? It felt good hearing it, but he didn’t seem at all pleased to be saying it, which left her in something of a quandary. She struggled to find an appropriate response before finally landing on the truth.
She lifted her hands in defeat. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“No,” he said flatly, then exhaled a long, ragged breath and briefly scrubbed his hands over his face. “No. How could you? Bloody hell, that should not have been your second kiss.”
“What?”
“That shouldn’t have been in the first two dozen. I apologize.”
“You’resorry?” She had some idea what to say tothat.
“That I kissed you, no. That I was careless with you, yes.”
“Oh.” Of its own volition, her hand came back up to touch her swollen lips. “It didn’t feel careless.”
“It was, love. Believe me.” His mouth curved in a rueful smile. “A man can do better.”
“Did you do better on the train?”
The question seemed to surprise him. “I was careful.”
Yes, that’s what she’d thought. “If that’s the case, I prefer careless. I liked this kiss. Very much.”
His eyes narrowed on her mouth again. “It’s unfair, Jane, to demand a promise of a man, and then tempt him to break it.”
“I…” She floundered a moment. He was right. Absolutely right. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I said it was unfair. I didn’t say you had to stop.”
Before she could respond to that peculiar statement, he jerked his chin toward the bed. “Go to sleep. It’s late, and we’ll need to leave before dawn tomorrow.”
“But where are you going?” she asked as he headed for the ladder.
He muttered something she didn’t understand. Something about a cough, cool weather, and a bet, or possibly a rock, cold otters, and his head. It scarcely mattered which. He was already gone.
With a sigh, she settled down into the bedding, pulling the woolen blanket up to her ears. A minute later, she heard the distinctive sound of water splashing in the center-aisle trough.
The trough. Water.
A trough, cold water, and his head. That was it.
She grinned against her pillow.
It was hardly a well-crafted compliment. It wasn’t a sonnet of pretty verse written and recited in her honor. It was just a man soaking his
head.
Nevertheless, Jane had never felt so flattered in her life.
She fell asleep smiling, and dreamed of Gabriel’s voice and deliciously careless kisses.
She woke with a hand over her mouth and a heavy weight pressing on her chest.
Shock came first, chased closely by a rush of terror, but before she could do more than blink, Gabriel’s voice sounded in her ear, a low, urgent whisper.
“Stay still.”
It took a moment for her to shake off the dregs of sleep and orient herself to her surroundings. She was in the stable loft. It was Gabriel half-lying on top of her, pressing down.
Her eyes flicked toward the edge of the loft. She couldn’t see beyond the pile of hay that blocked them from view, but there was a golden light emanating from below. It danced about, casting long, eerie shadows far up the walls and onto the ceiling.
They weren’t alone.
Her gaze tracked back to Gabriel and she gave a subtle nod. She heard the voices then, too muted for her to understand, but there were at least two men, maybe more. They moved toward the stable door, then disappeared into the night. But the glow of the lamp remained, moving along the wall in the opposite direction. There’d been at leastthree men, she realized. And they’d separated.
Gabriel breathed into her ear. “Wait until I call for you. Don’t. Move.”
She nodded again and he eased away. Raising himself up into a crouching position, he edged slowly toward the side of the loft.
She held her breath, waiting to hear the crunch of stale hay beneath his boots, but if he made any sound at all, it was lost in the mix of shuffling horses and the creaks and groans of old wood buffeted by the wind.
He peered over the edge of the loft, and shifted slightly as if lining himself up for something. Then he quite suddenly dropped over the edge. There was a startled grunt below that ended abruptly with the sickening sound of bone connecting with flesh.
“Jane.” Gabriel’s voice rose clear and calm from below. “Quickly.”
Throwing off the blanket, she scrambled to the edge of the loft, then all but slid down the ladder. The second her feet touched the ground, she spun about and caught sight of a man lying still as death on the ground, his body bent awkwardly against the far stall wall.
“Is he… He’s not…?”
“Just unconscious,” Gabriel replied. He pulled a large blade out from somewhere beneath his coat, handed it to her, and pointed at the three new mounts in the stable. “Cut the reins. I’ll get the girths.”
“Right. Yes.” She dashed to the first horse and set to work. There was just enough light to allow her to use the knife without injuring herself or the animal. But her hands shook terribly, slowing her down, and she couldn’t stop looking toward the stable door, certain that the rest of Kray’s men would come rushing back inside at any second.
She wanted to run. Making sure Kray’s men couldn’t follow made sense, but the short-term danger of being caught standing about in the stable felt far more pressing at the moment than the long-term risk of being chased. She wanted to runnow.
Jane sliced through the final rein at last, turned around, and discovered Gabriel waiting for her in the center aisle, her own horse in hand.
“Keep low in the saddle,” he said as they mounted and headed out the far end of the stable. He led them away from the drive, across the small lawn toward the woods.
The storm had died down during the night, but a steady drizzle and cold wind persisted. Jane was obliged to repeatedly wipe water and windswept strands of hair out of her eyes.
When they reached the edge of the forest, she pulled up on the reins. She could make out only the front line of trees; everything beyond was a black void. “We can’t,” she whispered. “It’s too dark. We’ll not be able to see what’s in front of us.”
“We’ll follow the edge, then keep to the road hunting dog.”
“I…”Hunting dog had to be wrong, but following the line of woods instead of the drive made sense, as did keeping to the road in the dark. That much had to be correct. “The road. Right.”
Gabriel took up position beside her, placing himself between her and the house.
Their progress felt unbearably sluggish to Jane. They kept to a walk over the uneven ground, and it seemed to her as if they were traveling by mere inches. She still wanted to run. The urge to dart to the road or even into the trees despite the danger was nearly overwhelming. Even after they moved out of sight of the house, the fear of sudden discovery didn’t abate.
She spoke without thinking, desperate to take her mind off the terrible tension. “Are you sure they’re after us?” she asked in as loud a whisper as she dared. “Maybe they’re running away, like the man in town.”
“The man who held a knife to you,” he reminded her. “And no, they’re not running. We were tracked.”
“But how?”
At least part of his answer was lost in a particularly strong gust of wind, but Jane thought she heard the wordsinn,bribery,road, andbad luck.
Even if she’d had the courage to ask him to explain, she wasn’t given the chance. A shout rose from the direction of the stable, and then another.
She threw a terrified look over her shoulder but saw nothing but darkness. “Gabriel—”
“Nearly there.”
He sounded exceedingly calm. Jane wished she felt just as composed, but her heart raced until they finally reached the smooth ground of the road.
“Jane, go.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Jane urged her horse into a gallop, and Gabriel followed close behind. They rode without speaking; the only sound was the pounding of hooves against wet earth. A minute passed, then five, ten. And with every second that ticked by, every inch of ground they put between themselves and Kray’s men, Jane felt a little of the gnawing fear slip away. Until, at last, she knew they had gone far enough that Kray’s men couldn’t hope to reach them.
***
Gabriel kept them to the road until the first rays of dawn appeared. The moment the light arrived, he led Jane off into the woods and allowed himself to relax, just a little.
He was exhausted. Right down to the bone. He’d had little sleep the previous two nights, and none the night before.
Rest had not been an option. He’d known there was a chance Kray’s men, who had the advantage of being able to travel on the nearby road when it was dark, might find them during the night. Between the scene in the village, taking the train, and purchasing the horses, they’d left a trail a child could follow. He’d hoped to push on farther from the town with the inn before they stopped, or at least have the chance to alter direction to throw off their pursuers. But the storm had come on fast, and with no idea when the next shelter might present itself, he’d thought it best to stay at the abandoned cottage.
The worst of the weather had blown itself out halfway through the night. He’d considered waking Jane then so that they could take to the road, but ultimately decided that riding in the open while Kray’s men still had mounts was a greater risk than staying put.
He’d been wrong.
Mistakes were hardly an anomaly in his work. Much of what the Thief Takers did was guesswork, taking risks, hoping for the best and preparing for the worst.
That had never bothered him before. In fact, he quite liked it. He was good at quickly amending his plans as needed, at making things up as he went along. He enjoyed the danger of his work, the unpredictability of it, the mad chases and last-second escapes. If it had been Samuel or Renderwell in the stable with him, they would be laughing about their run-in with Kray’s men as they rode through the woods.
No, actually, they would have stormed the house after subduing the first man, and be laughing about it in the relative comfort of the parlor. But, either way, it would have been fun.
He damn well wasn’t enjoying this. He wanted Jane safe. Not running and hiding, not afraid, and sure as hell not fighting off armed men in an alleyway.
He wa
s frustrated at himself and the circumstances, angry that he’d not foreseen the possible complications, furious that he’d not kept her out of harm’s way as he’d planned.
And he was… He glanced over at Jane, watched the early morning sun bring out strands of dark gold in her hair… God help him, he was afraid. Absolutely, bloody terrified that he would fail her completely.
“This ends today, Jane.” Devil take the list, the Foreign Office and, God forgive him, but even the Harmons. He was getting her to safety.
Jane looked over at him and blinked twice. “I’m sorry, I was woolgathering—”
“I said this is over. We’re done baiting Kray’s men.”
“But you said we’d go on as we have been.”
“And we did, for nearly another twelve hours. We don’t need to do it anymore.” He hoped that was true. “The plan was for Fulberg and the Harmons to reach their destination this morning. Even with delays, they’ll arrive no later than tomorrow morning. We won’t be far behind them.”
“You’re certain they’ll be safe?”
“Yes.” No, but he was certain Jane would be safer if she believed it. And at the moment, nothing was more important.
“All right,” she agreed with a nod. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
For the first time since the chase had begun, Gabriel turned them due south. He would avoid houses and towns until they were far away from their eastbound path. He would leave no trail for Kray’s men to follow.
The game of cat and mouse was over.
Chapter Twelve
Gabriel hadn’t mentioned the conversation.
As Jane steered her mount through an open meadow, her gaze routinely sought out Gabriel’s silent form. He’d not said a word about her promise to tell him her secret. Not a sound. Not a hint.
She kept expecting him to bring it up. In fact, she almost wished he would. She still didn’t want to tell him, but she’d resigned herself to the inevitability of it, and now she found herself eager to simply get it over and done with so she could stop dreading the consequences. Instead she was caught on a terrible seesaw of waiting for him to say something, and fearing that he would.
A Dangerous Deceit (Thief-Takers) Page 21