Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (29 page)

“I could count on you. I’m not afraid to try.”

“I’m an unreliable bounder, and whenever I traipsed off to attend to John’s affairs, you’d never know if I’d return. No woman should be resigned to such a fate.”

With that, he went to the dressing room, and she staggered to the bed and climbed under the covers. The conversation had chilled her, and she curled into a ball, listening as he moved around, as he put on his clothes.

She should have helped him dress, but she felt slighted and snubbed and foolish. She had tears in her eyes, but couldn’t figure out why. She hadn’t really wanted to go to France, so why be upset that he wouldn’t take her? It was just so sad to think that he would sail away with Mr. Sinclair and she’d never see him again.

How would she bear it?

Several minutes later, he emerged, attired for traveling. He proceeded to his wardrobe and opened it, pulling out knives and pistols, arming himself, stuffing weapons into every nook and cranny where they would fit.

“Are you expecting trouble?”she asked.

“Always.”

“I wouldn’t suppose Miss Dubois to be that dangerous.”

“You have no idea,”he said, and he chuckled.

He walked over and kissed her.

“Gad, but I’ve enjoyed knowing you.” It sounded like goodbye, as if he already suspected they’d never have another chance to be together.

“Why would you say something like that? You act as if you’re leaving forever, as if this is farewell.”

“Every parting could be the last with me.”

A shiver ran down her spine. “Don’t talk that way. You’ll court bad luck.”

“I was born under a black star, Caroline, but it hasn’t caught up with me yet.”

“Will you come back tonight? Swear that you will.”

“Of course I’ll come back. Don’t fret so much.”

“What about when Mr. Sinclair arrives? Will you leave me then?”

He was quiet, ponderous, then he admitted, “It’s possible.”

He whipped away and left.

“Raven!”she called.

He glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

“Be careful.”

“I always am. I’ll be home soon. Keep my spot warm.”

Then he was gone, an ominous silence settling in.

She lay very still, trying to calm her racing pulse, trying to chase away her perception of gloom, but she couldn’t dispel it.

She crawled out of bed and hastened to the window, hoping she might see him riding off, that she might hear his horse clattering away, but he was nowhere to be found.

* * * *

John slipped into the cabin on his ship. Sarah was asleep on his bunk, and he liked having her there. Her presence made it seem as if she belonged with him.

They were crossing the Channel, and she’d wanted to stay on deck, to watch as the sailors carried out their duties. But the seas had been rough, the temperature frigid, and he’d insisted she remain below.

The closing of the door roused her.

“John, is that you?”

“Yes.”

She extended her hand, and he hurried over and clasped hold.

He rested a hip on the mattress, leaned over and kissed her. It was sweet and delicious, and as he drew away, he sighed with pleasure. He nestled her to his chest, her cheek directly over his heart.

There was a small window over by his desk. Moonlight streamed in, casting the walls in an eerie blue color. Her auburn hair looked indigo, her sapphire eyes glittering like diamonds.

“When will we arrive?”she asked.

“In a few hours.”

“So I have you all to myself?”

“For a bit.”

“Lucky me.”

She tugged him nearer, thinking he would stretch out with her, but he didn’t. The notion of returning her to England had him extremely maudlin in a fashion he hadn’t previously allowed her to observe.

“What’s wrong?”she said.

“Nothing. I just don’t have much time. I can’t relax.”

“Are you sad?”

“Me? No.”

She was so attuned to him now; she could tell he was lying.

“It’s hard for you to visit Bramble Bay, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say
hard
.”

“Disconcerting, then.”

“Perhaps.”

“You haven’t changed your mind about Mildred, have you?”

“No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

The topic disturbed him, and he slid away and went over to stare out the window at the rolling waves.

Over the past few days, she’d been able to extract many promises that he was regretting. He couldn’t deny her any request, and he thought he might be in love with her. Yet he’d never been in love before, so he had no guide to explain what was happening. He could barely look at her, because when he did, he was overcome by such a rush of affection that it almost knocked him to his knees.

If that wasn’t love, what was it?

She seemed smitten too, and he was flirting with the idea of marrying her.

Should he? If he coerced her into it, he’d have to make some major concessions, and he was greatly torn. He’d have to abandon his pirating. Bandits lived short lives, filled with injury and early death, and he was running on borrowed time.

It wouldn’t be fair to wed her, then promptly get himself killed. If he truly wanted her, he’d have to renounce his rampaging, his vendettas and revenge. He’d have to shift his illegal enterprises to legal ones, finally mourn his mother, forgive his father, stop lashing out.

He’d walked on the criminal side of the law for too many decades, and the prospect of completely reinventing himself was annoying and daunting.

He’d already begun to accept small compromises that didn’t sit comfortably on his shoulders. She wasn’t a vindictive person, and she was determined that Mildred and Hedley not be punished.

She was also determined that John and Mildred reconcile as much as possible, that aunt and nephew come to terms, but the concept was galling and wouldn’t occur.

She’d wanted Mildred and Hedley to remain at Bramble Bay, which he wouldn’t permit. So he’d agreed to give Mildred six months to leave, plus he’d furnish her with funds so she could establish herself in London.

But he’d drawn the line on Hedley. Hedley had to depart immediately, and John wouldn’t provide him with money he’d simply gamble away. Hedley was an adult who needed to take the lumps life threw at him, who needed to cut the apron strings and stand on his own two feet.

John didn’t care what transpired, except that Sarah be safe from her relatives. He’d considered giving her title to the property, but he couldn’t now. If she owned it, Hedley and Mildred would run roughshod over her. She’d never be free to manage the place.

Reggie Thompson, John’s clerk, had accompanied them from France, and he would stay at Bramble Bay to watch over Sarah and enforce her wishes.

“I’ll never understand your kindness and ability to forgive.” He was still staring out at the endless water.

“And I’ll never understand your bitterness and anger, but I’ll help you move beyond them.”

“You’ll make me into a better man, will you?”

“I’m very stubborn, so you can’t win against me. Not in this.”

He peered over at her. “Why would you bother?”

“Why bother? Are you joking?”

“No.”

“I’m mad for you, you thick oaf.”

He scoffed. “You shouldn’t be.”

“That’s fine talk from the cad who ruined me. You wore me down until I can’t bear to be separated from you, so you’re stuck with me. You’ll need a crowbar to pry me out of your life.”

“Why do I feel as if nothing will ever be the same?”

“Because it won’t be—now that I’m interfering and bossing you.”

“I didn’t think I’d like it, but it’s not so bad to have you around.”

“If you keep flattering me like that, I’ll get a big head.”

“Perish the thought.”

He smiled, but it was an odd smile. He was dying to share the issues that were roiling him, but he couldn’t. He was too used to being alone, to having secrets. He wondered if he’d ever fully trust her, if she’d ever be a friend and confidante.

He didn’t like that he was so far away from her, but he was too overwhelmed by her, and he had to put some space between them so he could clearly evaluate all the changes he was mulling.

Was she worth it? Did he actually intend to relinquish everything just for her? When she gazed at him with those pretty blue eyes of hers, he believed he absolutely should, so he had to go somewhere quiet—away from her—where he could make more prudent decisions.

She had this absurd idea that they could travel to London to meet his siblings, to meet his father, and like magic, they’d be one big, happy family. It was an intriguing picture to ponder, but he’d seen too much of humanity and recognized that many things simply couldn’t be done—no matter how fervidly you yearned for them to occur.

“Come here, Jean Pierre.” She patted the empty spot next to her on the mattress.

“I have to be up on deck very soon.”

“Rest with me until then.” He didn’t take a step toward her, and she added, “You seem troubled. Let me soothe you.”

“I’m not troubled,”he lied.

Still though, he pushed away from the window and went over to her. He stretched out, and for a minute, they fumbled around, trying to get comfortable. The bunk was narrow, designed for one person, not two, but the confined area guaranteed that they had to snuggle closely.

He rolled on top of her, and he kissed her. He was gentle, tender in a way that was worrying. He felt as if he was saying goodbye. Was he?

“What’s vexing you so much?”she inquired.

“I’m glad we met.”

“Well…I’m glad we met, too.”

“That first day—when you’d sprained your ankle out on the road—you were so fetching.”

“You silver-tongued devil. With all these compliments, I’ll become annoyingly vain. You’ll turn me into a female version of yourself.”

“I never thought a woman like you could care about a man like me.”

“A woman like
me
? What about me?”

“You’re so…different from the women in my world.”

“I should hope so.”

“You’re so fresh and innocent.”

“I’m not so innocent anymore.” She grinned, trying for levity.

“I hate that I’ve corrupted you. When I think of Bramble Bay in the future, I want to remember you just as you were that afternoon on the lane.”

The comment sounded too final, and she definitely noticed. She frowned. “Why are you talking like this? You act as if we’re parting, as if I’ll never see you again once I’m home.”

He studied her eyes, his expression affectionate and warm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

He started kissing her again, and quickly, they were swept into a pool of desire.

There wasn’t time for disrobing or a slow sizzle of passion that could build and build. At any moment, a crew member could knock on the door and request his assistance up on the deck.

He didn’t unbutton her dress, and she didn’t tug off his shirt. He didn’t suckle her breasts, and she didn’t caress his body as he loved her to do.

He opened his trousers, widened her thighs and slipped into her, the hem of her skirt bunched between them. He filled her completely, but still, he could never get near enough, could never hold her as tightly as he needed to, and this occasion was the same.

Though he tried, he couldn’t conceal his despair, and she perceived his anguish. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and gripped him fiercely, as if—should she release him—he might float off into the sky.

He thrust into her over and over, his movements almost desperate. With a moan of distress, he spilled himself and collapsed onto her.

For a lengthy interval, they lay like two marble statues, frozen in place. Eventually, he slid onto his side, spooning himself to her. She reached up to find his cheek, to stroke it, and he clasped her palm and kissed the center.

He sighed, his chest rising and falling as he exhaled a heavy breath.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,”she said.

“I’m just tired.”

She elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re awfully maudlin tonight. It’s not like you.”

“I apologize.”

“We’ll always be together, John. We’ll be fine.”

“Yes, we will be,”he agreed. “Why don’t you get some more sleep?”

She yawned. “Will you stay until I doze off?”

“Of course.”

He waited, feeling her relax, her respiration slow, then he crept away and tiptoed out. He lurched over to the ladder and plopped down on the bottom rung, his head in his hands.

Could he leave her? Could he deliver her to Bramble Bay, then ride away?

He didn’t know, but how could he travel the other path?

It led to marriage and commitment and a tedious existence as a country gentleman and farmer. He’d go mad the first week. He’d drive her mad shortly after, and she’d wind up hating him. There was no route to happiness for them.

It was only a matter of time before he met a bad end, and she deserved a husband who would love her and be with her forever.

What to do? What to do?

The question pounded through him like a blacksmith’s hammer striking an anvil. Sick with regret, with confusion, he was frantic to return to his cabin, but in his current state, there was no predicting how foolishly he might behave.

He pushed himself to his feet, clambered up the ladder, and walked to the helm. He had to focus on England, on docking the ship safe and sound.

What would happen after that—how he would proceed, what he would choose—he couldn’t begin to guess.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Am I doing the right thing?”

“Absolutely.”

Mildred looked over at Sheldon. They were in the front parlor, enjoying a pot of tea, which they were both having trouble drinking. They chatted like the friends they were, as if there was no chaos looming on the horizon.

With all that was approaching, she’d needed his steady presence, and she was so glad she’d asked him to stop by, that he’d agreed to assist her.

Sarah didn’t want him as a spouse, but Mildred wondered what Sarah’s opinion would be when she returned from France and was faced with the reality of her situation.

No doubt she’d surrendered the only item a single female had that was of any genuine value—her chastity—and her home was lost. Hedley had squandered her dowry, so she had no money. Her prospects were quite reduced from what they’d been earlier in the summer.