Noble Scoundrel (Peril & Persuasion Book 1)

by Amy Sandas

  “Something to drink?” he asked as he glanced at the cupboard behind him. “No fine wine, I’m afraid, but there’s ale aplenty.”

  “I can find something,” she said quickly, preparing to rise herself. “There’s no need for you to serve me, Mr. Hale.”

  “Sit, dove.” His voice was stern, but the command was followed by an easy grin. “I’m already up.”

  Sinking back onto the stool, she conceded. “Whatever is easiest will do.”

  “Ale it is, then.”

  Grasping a metal pitcher, he poured a healthy dose of ale into a mug. After setting the pitcher and the mug on the table, he reclaimed his seat. Then they stared at each other as Claire quietly licked the sugared glaze from her pastry and an awkward silence filled the room.

  She shouldn’t have sat down. She should have turned and left the kitchen as soon as she’d noted him there with his daughter. The house was too quiet around them. The room too dark under the flickering flames of only two candles. The night was simply too...intimate.

  Then again, it was always like this when she was near him. Breathless one moment, heart racing the next. Always on the edge of her seat, uncertain of her balance and her position.

  Finally, he broke the tension with a low sound before turning his attention back to the food. Without hesitation he chose a piece of ham and brought it to his mouth with his fingers. Noting her regard, he gave a wink. “I reckon there’s no need to break out the silver.” Then he placed the morsel on his tongue before closing his mouth around it.

  Momentarily distracted by the way his jaw muscles flexed and released as he chewed, she cleared her throat. Smiling at Claire, she reached for a honey-coated bun. “No, I suppose not.”

  His approving grin made her belly flutter, but she ignored it to direct her focus toward the food rather than the man across from her. For being a cold meal of leftovers, it was wonderfully satisfying. And the ale was a perfect accompaniment. She’d enjoyed ale a few times before, during village festivals and once at the wedding of the local blacksmith. But tonight, the drink seemed exceptionally potent as it warmed her bones and softened her spine. Though it didn’t quite dispel all the tension she’d been carrying, it was a lovely feeling.

  A soft sound drew her attention to Claire. Having finished her pastry and a small glass of milk, the two-year-old sat with her legs tucked up beneath the ruffled hem of her nightgown, as she rubbed at her eyes once again.

  “Someone’s awful sleepy,” Hale noted in a low voice, but the girl quickly lowered her hands and pouted in protest.

  “No sweepy.”

  Turning away from her father in an unexpected show of defiance, Claire slid across the table and stretched her pudgy, sugar-coated hands toward Katherine, who did not hesitate to take the girl in her arms as an odd ache expanded in her chest. Within moments, Claire was settled comfortably in her lap. Pale curls rested against her shoulder as the toddler’s chubby little fingers plucked at the ribbon decorating Katherine’s gown.

  Surprised and quietly charmed by the girl’s unexpected demonstration of trust, Katherine wrapped her arms around her soft, warm body and gave a gentle squeeze. Looking up, she smiled apologetically. “Sorry. If you want to take her upstairs, I can—”

  “No,” he interrupted in a quiet but stern voice, his attention focused on Claire, who had started breathing in a heavy rhythm as her fussing began to slow. “There’s no rush.” His gaze flicked up to hers. “Unless, you’d rather not—”

  “No,” she answered quickly, smoothing her hand in slow circles over Claire’s back. “She can stay.”

  He grunted softly before turning to lift the pitcher of ale. “In that case, would you like another pour?”

  Katherine hesitated for only a second, but the midnight peace of the kitchen was too contented to let it end just yet. “Yes, thank you, but just a little.”

  When he set the pitcher back on the table, she nodded toward his own mug. “No more for you?”

  “None at all.”

  She lifted a brow in surprise. “You’d don’t like ale?”

  “Love it,” he replied gruffly. “But I won’t touch the stuff. Not anymore. No more ale. Nor wine. Nor gin, whiskey, or brandy.”

  Katherine paused, sensing the gravity of his declaration. Tilting her head, she asked simply, “Why?” It seemed the ale had warmed her tongue as well as her bones.

  He looked back to Claire as a shadow passed over his features. “I imagine Freddie told you Claire had been with him when we found them in that bastard Bricken’s warehouse.” She nodded. “You also probably know we barely found those children in time. Another couple hours and we’d’ve lost them.”

  The reminder sent a shock of cold through her chest, but when his gaze met hers, she was surprised by the pain she saw there. Pain and guilt and quietly burning fury. She might have been discomfited by the strength of his anger if it wasn’t so clearly directed inward.

  His brows furrowed heavily over his eyes. “If I hadn’t spent several days in a drunken stupor—if I’d faced my failings instead of trying to drown them—I could’ve found her long before she fell into Bricken’s hands. She never should’ve been there.”

  His hand curled into a fist atop the table, the veins in his arm bulging as his knuckles turned white. The instinct to comfort him had Katherine shifting her hold on Claire to reach out and cover his fist with her hand before she even thought about it. Strength and violence seethed within him. But she also felt his control. He wasn’t a man to be ruled by such emotions. He was a man who mastered them.

  The hard lines of his jaw clenched then released and his eyes narrowed. Staring intently at her face, he didn’t reject her touch. In fact, she wasn’t even sure he’d noticed it.

  “I was no better’n my own drunken arsehole of a father. More concerned with my troubles than the needs of my child.” His voice dropped to a low growl. “I’ll never fucking forgive myself for that.”

  Katherine didn’t know what to say. Perhaps there was nothing to say.

  The conviction in his voice was undeniable. Though plagued by his prior mistakes, he was clearly determined to do better. To be better for the sake of his daughter.

  As she held his gaze, feeling the remorse and shame he carried for his past mistakes, something changed in the air around them. It was subtle and quiet. A moment. A sigh. Then his large fist—still covered by her hand—turned and opened to match hers.

  A tingling wave rushed through her from her scalp to her toes, and she glanced down to where her hand now rested in his. The roughened texture of his palm didn’t bother her—in fact it intrigued her—but something about the difference in size between them and the warmth of his touch gave her a distinct sense of uncertainty. So much strength and capability in his hands. So much experience and power.

  He didn’t even have to curl his fingers around hers to hold them in place. He simply opened his palm and she was momentarily helpless to pull away.

  As she watched, he brushed his wide thumb once across her knuckles. Goose bumps rose on her arms and something twisted in her sternum.

  With an unsteady breath, she lifted her gaze. Tension was evident in the line of his jaw, and his eyes were unreadable as he stared intensely back at her. There was just a moment of poignant expectancy before the corner of his mouth curled and he gave a short laugh. Abruptly releasing her hand, he swiped up his mug and lifted it in a mocking toast. “Goat’s milk is about as potent as it gets for me.”

  “A noble refreshment,” she asserted with a smile. Doing her best not to reveal the sense of loss she experienced at his withdrawal, she reached for her own mug to complete the toast.

  At Claire’s soft snore, Katherine glanced down. The little girl’s lips were softly parted in her sleep, and a delicate sweep of golden lashes fluttered against pink cheeks.

  Hale cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “I suppose it’s time.” He looked down at the platter that had previously been heaped with food but now held only a f
ew crumbs. His grin when he glanced up again was almost boyishly wicked. “D’you reckon cook’ll be angry to discover her larder’s been raided?”

  Aiming for the same casual tone, Katherine replied, “She’s used to it, I imagine. Frederick frequently sneaks into the kitchen between meals.”

  With another short laugh, Hale cleared their dishes and set them into an empty washtub. “Growing boys tend to have inexhaustible appetites.”

  “Well, that’s certainly proving to be true in his case,” Katherine agreed.

  Securing Claire in her arms, she carefully maneuvered her legs out from under the table, but before she could stand, Hale was there in front of her.

  “I’ll take her,” he said roughly.

  At Katherine’s nod, he gently eased the little girl from her lap. Claire breathed a soft protest, but once she was settled against Hale’s broad chest, she curled her hand around his thick neck and sighed. The sight of it filled Katherine with warmth. Though Claire was timid and often uncertain when awake, in sleep, her instinct to find comfort and safety in her father’s arms was evident and sweet. As evident as the quiet hope and barely perceptible vulnerability in her indomitable father’s eyes as he gently stroked her pale curls.

  Katherine’s breath caught.

  There was so much emotion swirling in his gaze. More, she suspected, than he knew what to do with. More than she knew what to do with in that moment.

  She glanced aside. “I’ll lead the way.”

  The candle Hale had brought down had died out a bit ago, so there was just the one she’d brought from the study.

  Rising to her feet, she preceded them from the kitchen to the back stairway that would take them up to the third floor and Claire’s bedroom. Her insides were still stirring in reaction to what Hale had revealed to her and those strange moments of intimacy they’d shared across the kitchen table. It was all she could do to keep her spine straight and her steps sure as they made their way in a silent procession to the second-floor landing. There, Hale stopped Katherine with a short sound.

  “No need for you to go any farther. I’m sure you’d like to find your own bed. We can manage the rest of the way on our own.”

  “Nonsense,” she replied simply as she continued to light the way up the next flight of stairs.

  They were met at the door to Claire’s bedroom by her nurse, who stood wringing her hands as she gave a flustered curtsy. “My lady, I didn’t expect you to be...I mean, I’m so sorry you’ve been disturbed...I would’ve managed the child, but Mr. Hale insists I fetch him whenever she wakes.”

  “It’s quite all right,” Katherine assured as Hale swept past them into the room.

  He gently lowered the sleeping child to her bed before placing a kiss to her blonde curls and tucking the bedcovers up beneath her chin. It should have appeared odd to see the large brute of a man taking such care with the small child, but it didn’t. It looked right and lovely.

  Passing by the nurse on his way out, he instructed firmly, “If she wakes again, let me know.”

  The woman glanced nervously to Katherine before giving a nod. “Yes, sir.”

  Hale and Katherine made their way back downstairs in silence. Stopping at his bedroom door, Hale turned to face her. Katherine stopped as well and lifted her candle. Unfortunately, the small movement caused a twinge of pain through her shoulder. It wasn’t much, but due to the tightness and soreness that had settled into her muscles while spending so many hours bent over her desk, her entire body tensed in reaction.

  “What’s the matter?” A note of concern lowered his voice.

  “Nothing.” She lifted a hand to rub at the back of her neck. “I’m fine.”

  A heavy frown of displeasure darkened his face. “I know the look of pain in a body when I see it. You’re not bloody fine. And where the hell is your sling?”

  “I left it in my room. It’s been nearly two weeks since the injury. I need to start moving my arm more if I’m ever going to use it again.”

  “It’s too soon.”

  “It’s not,” she argued, tipping her head back to glare up at him as he towered over her.

  The simple cotton of his shirt did nothing to keep his heat and scent from surrounding her, soaking into her. And why did she find the smell of him so enticing? Purely male. She breathed deep on instinct, taking more of him into her body.

  Still frowning, he took the candleholder from her and set it on the hall table beside his bedroom door. “Turn around.” The word slid from his lips like a heavy, gravelly hiss, allowing no dissent.

  Katherine turned. It seemed the safer option in the midst of her sudden, heated physical reaction. Though if she’d known what he intended next, she likely would have risked arguing further. She may have even embraced a moment of cowardice and fled.

  But then his large, warm hands fell to her shoulders, gently pressing down. Subtly commanding her muscles to soften.

  Instead, her spine stiffened even more as she turned her head and tried to look over her shoulder at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Relax, dove,” he murmured in a graveled tone.

  She nearly gave a snort at the unlikelihood of that happening while his hands were on her, but then he began to circle his wide thumbs into the muscles bracketing her upper spine. Her head tipped forward as a sigh passed through her parted lips.

  It was odd to have someone show such concern for her well-being. Even if it was in Hale’s gruff, domineering manner. From the time she’d been a small child, she’d taken care of herself. And then Frederick. Their father had occasionally inquired after their studies and other domestic needs, but he’d never taken much interest in their happiness or comfort. A few servants might have cared more than others, but not enough to break protocol. And though Katherine had vague memories of being embraced by her mother, it had been so long ago.

  In truth, the lack of such consideration had never really bothered her. It was difficult to feel the loss of something she’d barely known. Besides, she’d had Frederick’s well-being to focus on.

  So, when Hale began to touch her with the sole purpose of easing her discomfort, she wasn’t quite sure how to respond. But as he continued to work out the tension in her muscles, Katherine slowly submitted to the expert attention of his fingers. Her eyes closed and her breath evened. The man was truly magic with his hands. He seemed to know exactly where to add more pressure and where to ease up. He even took some time lifting and rolling and manipulating her injured shoulder, eventually issuing a low sound in his throat before moving on to her lower spine.

  It felt wonderful. Bone-melting. Calming.

  “Freddie’s worried about you.” His words seemed to come out nowhere.

  “Worried?” Her chin came up and her brow furrowed as the momentary haze of contentment dissipated in an instant. “What? Why? He has no reason to worry.” She was the one who was supposed to worry.

  His smoothed his hands up her back, forcing a re-release of her sudden tension. “He knows you close yourself in your study every day, obsessively searching for answers that might not exist.”

  “I’m not obsess—”

  “Aren’t you?” he interrupted as he worked his fingers up the back of her neck.

  Her chin dropped toward her chest as shocks of pleasure spread up the back of her scalp and down her spine. “You do realize the threat to my brother is still out there,” she muttered.

  “I’m aware,” he said gravely. “It’s the reason I’m here, isn’t it?”

  With a rough sigh, he turned her around to face him again.

  Tipping her head back, she frowned into his stern features, noting the odd glint in his gaze.

  “There is only so much you can do,” he stated softly. “The house and grounds are secure. The footmen are coming along. Newton and the two men he recruited are taking turns watching the house from the outside. My mate is digging up all the information he can on the people from your list.” He arched a brow. “Trust me, your brother is about as
safe as he could get.”

  Katherine drew a long breath as she allowed herself to lean back against the wall behind her. Staring directly into his too-close gaze, she replied, “But we’re no closer to identifying our enemy than we were two weeks ago.”

  “We’ll find the bastard. And we’ll end this. I swear it.”

  A feeling like confidence welled inside her. In that moment, she believed him.

  Then he tilted his mouth in his customary grin that made her belly twist and her heart flutter. “Until then, I think you’ve spent enough time closed off in that damned study. You need to get out.”

  She tilted her head. “I am out.”

  His gaze narrowed dangerously. “Out of the house, duchess.”

  “I don’t think—”

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest and gave a look of arrogant command. “Tomorrow. We’re going on a drive through the park.”

  She arched her brows. The domineering tone that typically annoyed her now only sparked a hint of amusement. His wonderful hands might have softened more than her muscles. “We are?”

  He gave a nod. “You and I,” he confirmed and the light flickering in his gaze did not come from the candle.

  “You want to go for a drive?” She was finding the concept difficult to grasp for some reason.

  His lips curled. “Isn’t that what ladies like you do on a sunny afternoon? Drive around in circles in the park? Flash coy smiles at passing gentlemen? Show off your fine clothes and pretty horseflesh?”

  “Some ladies do, I suppose. But I’m not sure what you expect such an outing to accomplish.”

  He shrugged. “Consider it a demonstration of sorts.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Of what?”

  “My ability to protect you,” he replied. “And Freddie, of course.”

  “As Frederick will not be leaving the house until the threat is resolved, I don’t see what a carriage ride can tell me.”

  A frown weighed down his tawny brows as he looked down at her. “You won’t be able to keep him locked up indefinitely.”