Heavens, she really was an absolute treasure. It was a shame he didn’t deserve her. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘You take the bed. I’ll take the floor.’
‘Oh, no. I wouldn’t hear of it. We will share.’
‘So you intend to boss me around, do you?’ he said with a teasing note in his voice.
‘Certainly not. I am just being sensible.’
‘Sensible. Aye. Then I’ll accept your kind offer.’
* * *
His hands were unsteady as he laced her stays. Eva had returned her clothes along with the water for washing. He was glad Rowena had her back to him right at that moment and could not see his reaction to touching her.
He wanted her again. And she had given him so much already. In his heart he knew he would never get enough of her, and it wasn’t right. Not when his future was so unsure.
‘Your brother is going to be very surprised to meet us, I think.’
Us.
His fingers stilled. He’d been alone for so long, fighting for his own survival, it came as a shock to think of himself as something more. He pulled at the laces and tied off the bow. ‘Aye. He’ll be surprised.’
She seemed satisfied with his answer.
He went to the mirror and tied his cravat while she put on her stockings. Such lovely long legs she had. He glanced at the tumbled bedclothes and then at the clock and wondered if there might be time...
A knock sounded at the door. ‘Who is it?’
‘Eva with your breakfast.’
‘I’m ravenous,’ Rowena said.
So was he. And not only for food. With a regretful sigh he went to the door and opened it. The young maid bustled in with a tray.
‘Madam Belle wants to know if you’ll be wanting this room tonight, as well?’
He glanced at Rowena and discovered she was looking towards the bed with what he could only describe as a hopeful expression. His groin tightened at the thought that she was actually looking forward to another night with him. It seemed so improbable that he would meet a woman, who on the outside seemed so self-assured, and yet who craved what gave him pleasure.
How wrong her husband had been to call her cold and reserved. She was a passionate delight who had somehow filled a very empty place in the deepest reaches of his soul.
‘Tell Belle, yes, if she can spare us the room.’
The maid whisked off. He seated Rowena and as she lowered herself on to the chair she looked up at him with a pink wash of colour. How could he ever have thought she was plain, seeing that blush over her pale-as-milk skin that covered every inch of her body?
She spread butter and jam on her toast. ‘We will go together to your brother’s office,’ she said in the decided way that she had. She used it to hide her uncertainty, he realised. Her fear of rejection.
Such a small insight into her vulnerability, but it made him feel suddenly protective.
‘We will,’ he agreed, selecting bread and slicing off a lump of cheese. ‘After all, this is your business. Not mine.’ His business was with Ian. The urgency to face his brother seemed to have faded. Because it would mean leaving Rowena and likely never seeing her again? He pushed the thought aside, unready to deal with that part of his future.
He had sworn to give her his aid and he would see it through to the end.
* * *
Breakfast over, they dressed for the chill of a winter morning in Edinburgh. He wrapped his muffler around his face. ‘No sense in setting the dogs to barking,’ he joked when he saw her watching him.
She shook her head. ‘I hardly notice the scar any longer. It’s your expressions I see. Your kindness.’
As he had suspected the previous evening, but to hear her say it made something hard and uncomfortable rise in his throat. He swallowed it down without examining the emotion at its source, though he had a feeling it was gratitude. He was grateful to her for so many things, it seemed. Would it give her some sort of power over him? Make him weak? He pushed the thought aside. ‘Let us go.’
They hurried down the back stairs and out the side door. He gestured for her to stay in the shadows while he took a quick look to see who was about on the street. There were the usual hawkers—the baker, the milkmaid, a girl with a basket of turnips—crying their wares. A dustcart rumbled by. No sign of the smugglers. ‘Gardy loo!’ He dodged back into the alley to avoid a stream of night soil from a front room of the brothel.
‘All seems well,’ he said, holding out his arm.
She took it. They walked briskly. Rapidly enough to show they had purpose, without looking hurried or anxious. At the corner of the street where Niall’s office was located, Drew stopped. ‘Let me make sure it is safe.’ He’d been both hunter and prey. He knew better than to be caught out in the open.
She nodded. He peered around the corner.
Drew had no trouble identifying the man standing on the opposite side of the street against the apothecary’s window. His friend from two nights ago. Morris. Cursing, Drew came back to Rowena.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘The smugglers are watching Niall’s office.’ And they could be watching the nearby streets, too.
He grabbed her hand and they ran, ducking into alleyways and doubling back. He didn’t stop moving until he was sure they weren’t being pursued.
Out of breath and panting, Rowena leaned against the wall. ‘Did they see you?’ she gasped.
He shook his head. ‘No.’ He was almost sure they had not.
‘What now?’
‘We could try his house...’
‘But they might be waiting there, too,’ she finished.
‘Aye. Likely. If they know of his office, they would easily discover where he is living.’
‘And we wouldn’t want to put his family in danger.’
How did she know what he was thinking at the same moment he thought it? He grinned at her, then realised that beneath his muffler she wouldn’t be able to see his expression. Probably just as well. Right now he was feeling a little too besotted for comfort.
‘Do you think we could ask him to visit us at the brothel?’ she said. ‘Send a note.’
‘We will send a note, but we’ll not meet him at Belle’s. We need to find somewhere we can be sure he isna’ followed.’
‘What about Waterloo Place at Regent Bridge?’
‘They finished it, then?’ It reminded him just how long he had been away. A painful reminder full of resentment that made his fists clench as he thought about Ian and his treachery.
‘There is a clear view in both directions,’ she said.
‘It sounds ideal.’
‘Is something wrong?’
Clearly the bitterness in his heart showed in his voice. ‘No. Nothing wrong. Let us go back to Belle’s and write the note.’
* * *
Despite Drew’s assurance that nothing was wrong, he’d left her at Madam Belle’s the moment his note to his brother had been dispatched. He had wanted to look at the place they had set for the meeting. And he’d wanted to go alone, leaving Rowena sitting on tenterhooks fearing he’d be caught.
The lad they had sent to his brother’s office was to wait for a reply. Given their fear of interception, Drew had kept the note very brief. It had talked about there being no need to climb the bridge to collect the eggs. It would, he had said, let his brother know who was seeking the meeting, but would mean nothing to anyone else.
A rap sounded on the door. ‘Who is it?’ she asked, having been warned by Drew not to open it to anyone unless she recognised the voice.
‘Me, ma’am. Nat.’ The errand boy.
She opened the door. The boy grinned and waved a piece of paper.
‘You saw him? Lord Aleyne?’
‘Not me. His clerk. He’d no
t be letting the likes of me near his lordship. But he did send a reply.’
Too bad Drew wasn’t here to receive it. Heavy footsteps on the stairs made her look up. It was Drew. ‘We have a reply,’ she said.
He took the note from the boy, gave him a coin and came inside and closed the door, tapping the note against his gloved palm.
‘Open it,’ she said. ‘If he says no, then we will find someone else to help us. My father had a lawyer. Mr Murchison. He might be willing to talk to us.’
Drew set the note on the table, removed his gloves, coat, hat and scarf. She wanted to shout at him, he was so deliberately slow. But she did not blame him. This was his brother from whom he was estranged. She sensed that if the note was a rejection he would take it hard.
He sat down on the bed and patted the place beside him. She joined him on the bed. Breath held, she watched him open the note. He handed it over without a glance at the contents.
‘Read it.’
So commanding. Pleasure unfurled low in her belly. She took it from him.
The hand was bold and black and the words brief.
‘“Logan, what game are you playing? If you are in trouble with the law or with McKenzie, I will have your head on a plate. Niall.”’
She wrinkled her nose and looked at Drew. ‘He didn’t know it was you.’
The muscles in his jaw flickered. ‘Perhaps it is just as well. If he had guessed it was me, he might not have replied.’
‘Oh, Drew,’ she said, feeling the hurt in his voice as a pang in her chest.
He squared his shoulders. ‘But he will come for Logan. So perhaps it is just as well he did not recognise my writing.’
‘He mentions McKenzie, too.’
‘Aye. God knows what Logan is about. He always was a wild scamp.’ He looked at the small clock on the mantel. ‘It is but a half hour to the time I set for the meeting. We had best get going.’
* * *
The clouds had rolled in over the city, grey and heavy with the threat of snow. People in the streets scurried head down about their business. To Rowena, everyone looked suspicious, but after a circuitous route, Drew stopped for a second.
‘No one is following. Unless they are very, very clever.’
She breathed a sigh of relief, trusting him to know and happy to leave such matters in his hands.
Finally, they were in sight of the bridge. Standing right at the centre was a young man in a dark coat and hat, pacing up and down and slapping his arms across his chest.
‘That’s him,’ Drew said, at the place where the bridge began to cross the old Calton Road. ‘Niall.’
She took his hand, as much for his comfort as for hers. He tucked it into the crook of his arm and patted it lightly.
Niall stopped his pacing and looked towards them. He was dark, not blonde like Drew. He took a step in their direction and then stopped, frowning, but he wasn’t looking at Drew, he was looking at her, and as they came closer his frown deepened.
‘What the devil is going on?’ he said as they came within earshot. His gaze dropped to where their arms linked. ‘Who is this?’
‘Is that a proper greeting for a brother you haven’t seen in six years?’
There was a careless drawl in his voice. A devil-may-care note she hadn’t heard before. His arm beneath her fingers had tensed. It was as rigid as a board. He was ready for his brother to turn away. Steeled against it.
Rowena could only watch as the other man peered into Drew’s eyes uncertainly.
Drew pulled down the muffler.
Niall reared back. ‘What? Who? My God, Drew!’ he whispered. ‘Can it really be you?’
Drew nodded stiffly. ‘It is.’
Niall lunged forward, clutching his brother to his chest, then leaning back to look at his face. ‘We heard you were dead.’
‘Not yet,’ Drew said drily.
‘Hell’s teeth,’ he said, his eyes taking in the scar. ‘What happened? Why didn’t you come to the house? Why the strange message? I have been standing here for the past half hour, thinking Logan was in some sort of trouble. Just wait until Ian knows you have returned. And Mother.’
‘Mother is... She’s well?’ His voice sounded strained.
‘She’ll be all the better for seeing you.’
If Drew noticed the evasion, he didn’t mention it. He glanced around. ‘To tell you the truth, Niall, I am in a wee spot of trouble. Is there somewhere we can talk? Somewhere we won’t be seen?’
Niall stared at him, smiling, seemingly lost in some sort of reverie. ‘You have to meet my wife. And Ian’s Selina. And—’
‘Niall, we don’t have time. There are dangerous men—’ He looked over his shoulder. ‘Damnation.’
Rowena followed the direction of his stare. Her heart sunk. Walking towards them was the man whose narrowed gaze focused only on them.
‘You were followed,’ Drew said. ‘My note said to take care no one followed you.’
‘Damn it, Drew. I bloody well did.’
‘There’s no time for this,’ Rowena said. ‘We can’t risk—’
The smuggler must have realised he had been spotted because he started to run, one hand tucked under his coat. Probably holding a pistol. Drew looked the other way and groaned. Another one was coming from the other direction.
‘There’s only one thing to do,’ Niall said. ‘Rush the man coming from the far side of the bridge.’
‘Come on, then,’ Drew said grimly. He took Rowena’s hand and she hoiked up her skirts in the other and they ran straight at the smuggler.
He must have thought they hadn’t seen him because he started to grin and unbuttoned his coat. Rowena could see the grip of a pistol sticking up from his waistband.
‘He’s got a gun,’ she gasped.
‘I see it,’ Drew said.
‘He’s not the only one,’ Niall said. He reached under his coat and pulled out an ornate duelling pistol. He cocked and fired. The smuggler hit the ground with a howl.
And then they were over the bridge and running alongside a building.
Rowena glanced over her shoulder. The man they’d seen first was catching them up and he had drawn his pistol. She tried to run faster.
‘Stop them,’ the smuggler behind them yelled at passers-by. ‘Stop, thief.’
A burly man on the pavement in front of them put his arms out to block them.
Chapter Thirteen
‘Let them pass,’ Niall shouted at the man standing in their path. To Rowena’s surprise he stepped aside.
‘Guard the door,’ Niall said to him. ‘Don’t let anyone in.’ He dived through the building’s nearest door.
Drew thrust Rowena ahead of him, lifting her off her feet in his rush to get her inside.
Niall slammed the door and locked it.
‘What the devil?’ Drew said, staring at his brother. ‘Who was that outside? I thought we were done for.’
‘Bodyguard,’ Niall said. ‘I’ll explain in a moment.’ He led the way down a narrow corridor that opened out into the great hall of a sumptuous office building. A porter hurried forward to greet him with a bow. ‘My lord?’
Drew made a snorting noise through his nose.
Niall ignored him. ‘We need a room where we can be private, and brandy.’ He glanced at Rowena.
‘Tea, please,’ she said, still gasping from their wild run. How they had managed to cross the bridge ahead of their pursuer she wasn’t quite sure. It seemed that with Drew holding her hand, her feet had barely touched the ground.
The servant opened the door to a small sitting room tucked away behind some columns. ‘Will this do, my lord?’
‘Excellent,’ Niall Gilvry said. No, he was Lord Aleyne, Rowena reminded herself.
She s
ank down on to the nearest sofa and perched on its edge, watching Drew eye his beaming younger brother warily.
Aleyne stepped towards Drew as if he would offer an embrace, but Drew stiffened and took a half step back. Aleyne shook his head, but his grin remained. ‘I can’t believe you are here.’
‘Believe it.’
‘We heard you were killed in a hunting accident.’
‘Heard from whom?’
‘Carrick. By way of the hunting party.’
‘Is that so? Well, whether you like it or no’, I am still alive.’ His voice was hard and grim.
‘Good heavens, Drew! Are you saying you think I would be glad if you were not?’
The muscle in Drew’s face flickered as he fought some emotion he did not let show in his eyes. Rowena had the feeling it was pain. But it could just as easily have been anger.
‘You’ve been missed,’ Aleyne said. ‘By Mother, especially. You were always her favourite after Logan. She refused to accept you were gone. Not without proof. And, by Jove, she was right.’
At that last, Drew turned away and paced to the window.
Aleyne stared at him, a puzzled frown on his face. ‘Dammit, Drew, so much has happened since you left, I have no idea where to start. All of us are married. Even Logan, and to the unlikeliest of women. Though she has been good for him. Settled him down no end.’ He shook his head. ‘And you? What happened to you? Why didn’t you let us know you were alive until now?’
‘It is a long story,’ Drew said. ‘And not relevant to our current situation. What is all this I hear about you being a lord? And why the bodyguard?’
Aleyne’s handsome face hardened. ‘Also long stories. But since you ask, my title came through my wife.’
Drew curled his lip. ‘Married an heiress, did you? Ian thought it was all right for you, then.’
‘Ian had no knowledge of it until it was done. Ours is a love match.’ His tone held disapproval.
Drew winced. ‘And he married the Albright woman.’
‘Lady Selina is a grand lass and has been very good for our Ian.’
‘Not to mention good for the family coffers. She brought him Dunross, I understand.’ Drew’s voice and eyes were as cold as ice. ‘Whereas I was banished for trying to save the family fortunes.’
Return of the Prodigal Gilvry Page 19