Her Reluctant Viscount (Rakes and Rogues) (5 page)

He opened his mouth but another voice interrupted.

“Jo, do not bleed Lord Wilkes. Your mother would not like it on her rug.” Najja’s calm voice jerked them apart.

Her face flushed, she swallowed hard before lifting her gaze to find not just Najja there but also her son, Colin, and Pug. Colin’s green eyes burned with murderous intent. Najja’s were bland but Jo knew nothing escaped her hawk like gaze. Pug’s seemed to mirror Colin’s.

“Tryst,” Colin rumbled.

He released her. Smoothing her hands down the yellow fabric of her day dress, she took a much needed fortifying breath. “What are you doing back? I thought you were staying in London.”

It amazed Jo that she came to her family’s country seat expecting to be alone with her parents away on a trip, to not only have Trystan arrive but the Faulkner brood as well.

“What is going on?” Najja said, placing her son on the floor where he immediately ran to Jo.

She scooped him up and peppered his face with kisses. Alexander Faulkner was a gorgeous mix of his parents. He had vivid green eyes like his daddy and skin a tad lighter than his mom. Holding him allowed her to ignore her desire for once.

“Jo.” Najja’s voice ran with reprimand.

With reluctance, she handed Alex off to Pug who carried him out of the room. “I was in another incident so I came home.”

“She refuses to draw the symbol on the
lone
page taken from her sketch book,” Trystan snapped, lifting and tossing the pad back down again.

“Maybe if you would ask instead of demand I would,” Jo retorted.

“You need to tell me,” he said, rounding on her, his eyes shooting sparks.

She refused to be intimidated. Crossing her arms, she matched him glower for glower. His blue eyes narrowed further.
Okay, perhaps I am a bit intimidated.

“You need some manners.”

He leaned close. “You already know what I think you need.” His words were low and intimate.

Another wave of longing crashed over her. She almost dared him, recalling exactly what he had told her.

“Perhaps more productive matters should be pursued.”

Najja was right. Jo held out her hands and backed away. “I will tell him.” She dragged her tongue against her lower lip, ignoring the thrill of pleasure his sharp intake of air gave her. “The moment he tells me why it is any of his business.”

“Seems reasonable.” Najja‘s agreement came as no surprise to her.

“I do not want to worry her if not necessary to.”

Jo scoffed, instantly forgetting to not square off with Trystan. “So you come barging into my house, into this room, and question if I can even redraw the image? Demanding I do? All because you do not want to worry me unnecessarily?”

“I had to know. And I am trying to protect you,” he thundered.

“From what?” she hollered back, nearly stomping her foot in frustration.

He threw up his hands and glanced past her.

“Jo?” Colin asked seconds later.

She flushed again, embarrassed she had forgotten others were there. Loosely clasping her hands before her, she met Colin’s waiting green gaze. “Yes?”

“Can you recreate the image?” Of course she could and nodded. “Please.”

She sighed and glanced to Najja who encouraged her to comply with nothing more than a look. Silent, she swiped the pad in one hand and took the pencil from her other book before sitting on the cushion.

Working quickly and not going into intricate detail, she did as they had requested. The page in question had been used for four drawings. She did them on different sheets and as the last stroke fell, she ripped them out. Slammed them against Trystan’s chest. Then with her head held high, she stormed from the room.

“Everything okay, Miss Jo?”

She gave a genuine smile to the one before her. Pug. With his intense blue eyes and thick dark hair, she knew he was going to be breaking hearts. He had already gained the height of a man even if he were a mere fourteen.

“Yes, Pug. Thank you for asking.” She reached out and touched the side of his face. “You are so sweet for inquiring about me.”

He flushed and she dropped her hand, thinking perhaps she had made him uncomfortable with her actions.

“Get back in here, Jo,” Trystan’s demand came from behind her.

Pug moved faster than she did, skirting her and placing himself between her and Tryst. Turning she frowned at the scowl on Trystan’s face. Blue eyes slid to her and a mocking grin flashed before vanishing, leaving him expressionless. With a sigh, she maneuvered around Pug and went toward the man who threw her life into such turmoil, sending him a glare. At his side, she peered over her shoulder and gave a glowering Pug an honest smile.

“You really need to stop ordering me around,” she said as they walked back to the room.

He did not speak just clamped a hand on an arm and directed her to a settee and sat beside her, crowding her. She jerked free, struggling to control her emotions. Trystan leaned forward and grabbed one of the sheets before thrusting it at her.

“Are you sure you saw this?”

“Yes.” She looked at the symbol before putting the paper beside her.

“Where?” His question was low and sent chills up her spine with the lack of emotion.

“I told you. At the museum. It was interesting so I drew it.”

He did not say anything else so she looked at him and nearly shrank back from the cold mask of fury on his face. Concerned she glanced to Colin and Najja. Their expression mirrored hers but Colin’s was angry as well.

“Did someone show it to you?”

Tryst’s question drew her attention back to him. She shook her head, realizing this matter was personal—extremely personal—to him. “No. I spied it on a man’s wrist. He reached out to take something from the man he was with and his sleeve slid up.”

“So you drew it? Damn it, Jo, do you not ever think before you do things? Or do you jump in with your eyes closed?” He jumped up and shouted down at her.

Her restraint crumpled, like a dead leaf beneath a boot heel. She shoved to her feet, face aflame with the shame of his censure. “I am an artist. I see something I like, I draw it. And I do think before I do things.”

Crack! She slapped him hard across the face. “I thought that through. Now get the hell out of my house!”

She ran and bolted for her room.

Trystan shook with the force of his anger. How could she be so foolish? He expelled a sharp breath and numerous curses. Nothing else had mattered once he had seen the sheet which had the symbol for The Alchemist on it. That had been his entire focus. He saw flashes of his murdered team and the rest of the patrons at that tavern. Could not forget the mocking smile of the bastard. Then there was the shame he had failed his men. His friends.

Seven years he had been waiting to find this person and avenge the deaths of his friends. He just had not been prepared for it to circle around Jo.

“I will check on the children.”

Najja’s voice an intrusion to his ranting and mental trip. Snapping his head around, he spotted the purple fabric of Najja’s dress as she disappeared out of the parlor. He was alone with Colin.

“How bad is it?” His best friend asked.

Trystan collapsed on the settee Jo had just vanquished. His cheek still stung from the strength of her swing.

“She is a marked woman, Colin, if this is true. The Alchemist…” He ran a hand over his face. “She needs to be protected.”
I have to get word to Jack.

“I thought The Alchemist was dead.”

He fingered the scar on his jaw, feeling the phantom burn of the night it happened. “So did I. I sent him to the gaol. Watched him hang and apparently killed him again.” Apparently, he had been wrong.

“A protégé?”

He had not a clue. “Perhaps. But these attempts have been very real on her life.” Unable to sit still, he shoved to his feet. “I will get some protection arranged for her.”

Colin leaned back and stroked his chin. “Do you really think it wise?”

Was he kidding? “I cannot leave her unprotected while I go after him, Colin.”

“I meant, do you think it best to assign another man to be around Jo? To keep her safe?”

Jealousy tore through his gut with the mere thought. The smirk on Colin’s face told him, his friend knew of his feelings for the spirited and lively Josephine Adrys. “Yes,” he ground out.

“Okay. I am sure Major McCutcheon would be glad to do it.”

He snarled at his friend who merely lifted a black brow in response. “I will get someone with experience.”

“He has been to war, Tryst. He has plenty.”

“No,” he said adamantly. “She would bat her lashes at him and get her way.

Colin laughed. “I have never seen Jo do such a thing.”

Neither had he but he was not about to admit it.

“I will head back, inform Jack, and return with someone. Can you keep an eye on her until I get back?”

“Of course.”

“And why do I need protection? Never mind. Why are you still in my house? I told you to leave!”

Trystan looked at her. Her stance fierce and warrior like. Jo’s blue eyes shot flames at him. Lord help him, he wanted to kiss her. Again and again. All over.

“If Jo is in danger, I will protect her.” Najja entered the conversation.

“No.” This from Colin. He rose and went to Najja’s side. Pug and Alex appeared as well. “I cannot allow this. I will
not
allow it. You are carrying our next child. This is no time for you to be a bodyguard.”

Trystan slipped his gaze to Jo to see how she took the news. Her anger segued into pure joy and she hugged her friend with a squeal of honest pleasure. “I am so happy for you, Najja. Colin is right, your first priority is your family.”

“You are my family, Jo.” The women hugged again.

“I think this is crazy. There is no reason for anyone to be after me. It is all nothing. I will stay out here and avoid London until my parents return.”

Tryst ignored her, knowing she was his weakness. Now was not the time to get drawn into her fight. Still, he had to force himself not to look at her. Focusing on Colin’s face, disregarding the amusement in his friend’s eyes, Trystan continued to talk. “No more than four days, Colin.”

His friend nodded and Trystan headed for the door, the etching Jo drew in his fist. He paused to pull on his coat—still wet—grab his cane and halt before Jo. Her amazing blue eyes burned with fire and he could clearly identify the stubborn set of her jaw.

Words burned his tongue and he longed to say them to her but he refrained, instead brushing past her and out to his carriage. Thankfully, his driver was waiting and he swung in the saddle of his stallion who had been tied to the back. “Follow me back to London.” At the man’s nod, he set his heels to his stallion and they rode off into the rain.

He stopped to rest his horse the bare minimum before pressing on. Wet and sodden he reined his horse in before Jack’s dreary building. A waiting footman took the reins from him.

“Rub him down well and see he gets a good measure of oats. He has earned it.”

“Very good, my lord.”

With a final pat to his horse, he pushed through into the house and strode to the normal room, uncaring of the water he left behind, trailing in his wake. Without knocking, he entered the back room. Jack sat at his desk, writing. He paused and glanced up. The man arched a silvered brow at the intrusion.

Reaching into his coat, Trystan withdrew the paper he had taken great care to keep dry. Silent he tossed it on the desk.

Jack opened it and stared. Even though he said nothing, Trystan could tell of his displeasure. His boss stood, went and poured two drinks, then handed him one. They drank together after Trystan shed his wet overcoat.