Perilous Risk (28 page)

“And why is that, sweeting?”

“Because it would be too easy for an earl like himself to have my words dismissed as the ravings of a jealous former mistress. He says no self-respecting prosecutor would ever take such a case and that Maria will find herself out in the cold once more.”

“He’s either bluffing for your sake or deluding himself. Seeing as Ruel is an intelligent man, I think the former. Being a gentleman, he doesn’t want you to worry on his account. Yes, Maria Seymour doesn’t have the power to make an accusation like that stick. But the Earl of Barnet does. Ruel knows that.”

Stephen made a wry expression. “Ruel thinks he can intimidate and storm his way out of this situation just as though he were still facing a battle in the Dragoons. One would have thought politics would have taught him better.”

“If he fails at that, I shall simply testify to whatever Maria wants and then Jon can have me declared an insane, jealous bitter woman.”

Stephen shook his head slightly. “No, the Earl of Ruel is never going to allow that kind of scandal and speculation to touch himself or his name or his house. You don’t understand the least thing about noblemen if you think he would.”

But this whole discussion did give Stephen a sudden insight into what Barnet might be intending. The realization left him reeling for a moment.

She had crossed her arms over her chest and leant back in her chair.

“I don’t think he’d allow you to be ruined like that, either. The gentleman in him would not be able to do it. He’s telling you what he thinks will ease your mind. But I don’t know what he intends to do. Perhaps he thinks he can point the finger of accusation for Saxby’s murder at Maria or even Barnet.”

Her brow wrinkled with a frown. “Barnet? How could he possibly factor in Saxby’s death? He wasn’t there.”

“Ruel may be thinking of pointing a finger of accusation towards Barnet for something far greater.” Yes, Ruel might well be considering that. And if he made any move to do that, Stephen would be forced have the Earl of Ruel detained in some fashion or else he would interfere with too much that Stephen had worked months to bring about. He would endanger Stephen’s mission and Stephen would allow nothing and no one to interfere with his mission.

But he didn’t want to disrupt Jonathon Lloyd’s life at such a delicate moment as was currently unfolding, so he was watching that matter closely.

Rebecca frowned. “Far greater—like what?”

Stephen compressed his lips. Damn, he had nearly told her more than he ought. The opiate was making him loose-lipped. Why was he even allowing the discussion to deepen? He fixed her with a stern gaze. “It doesn’t matter in any case. You will never be able to stand before a prosecutor and tell lies that could send your former lover to the gallows.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I know you. You’re simply not capable of that kind of subterfuge.”

Her shoulders sank a little more, if that were even possible. He knew his point had been made and he let the matter drop.

She continued to study him. “Jon says you do not work for the Home Office.”

Tension sparked along Stephen’s nerves, tensing his neck muscles. “The Earl of Ruel would not know about the circumstances of my employment.”

She made a sceptical moue. “I see. He says you were sent home from Vienna because you were uncultured.”

With his neck muscles going stiff as boards, Stephen twisted his mouth. God, he was damned weary of having to defend and explain himself. “Again, what would he know about the circumstances of my employment?”

“He says it is common knowledge.”

“It does not matter now and it has no bearing between the two of us.”

“So you will not explain?”

“There is no need.”

She looked stricken. “Of course you feel that way. You will not share anything of your past.”

His chest tightened at her obvious hurt. But he couldn’t allow himself to soften. If he told her the truth about Vienna, she would be horrified. Again, he fixed her with a stern stare. “Listen to me carefully, Rebecca.”

Her nostrils flared slightly. “Yes, I am listening.”

Her voice held a sharp edge. It could have cut a man’s throat as easily as any stray arrow at an archery contest. Unconsciously, he touched his collar, then passed it off as adjusting his cravat..

He made his own voice firm. “You must not attempt escape. I have my men guarding the door. You will not succeed in any attempt to flee again.”

Bright red colouring flared in her pallid cheeks, a most dramatic sight. “I see!”

“Don’t overexcite yourself. The situation is not nearly as dire as you are making it seem.”

“I have already had a taste of your men’s gentle ministrations.”

“I sent Gerard back to London. You needn’t worry. In any case, if you simply stay by my side, you will come to no harm.”

“So I am your prisoner?” Her voice rang with hurt.

“I didn’t want things to be this way, Rebecca. You gave me no choice.”

“You persist in saying that.”

“It is the simple truth.”

She turned her gaze back to the window.

Pressure increased in his guts, the rat trying to gnaw through the numbing effects of the opiate. He placed his hand over his stomach and rubbed slowly. “I want you to eat.”

“I am not hungry,” she said woodenly.

“Are you punishing me?”

She turned and gaped at him.

“Are you?” he insisted.

“You’re so arrogant.”

“How’s that?”

“You think everything revolves around you.”

He raised his brows. “Do I?”

“Yes. You make it impossible to trust you.”

“You didn’t trust me before this morning. You haven’t trusted me at all, not this whole time, regardless of my sincerity or actions.”

“How could anyone blame me? You share so little about yourself.”

“I am at liberty to share precious little of myself with anyone. I told you more than I should have already.” He took the bread and broke off a portion then handed it to her. “Eat some of this.”

She took the bread and held it limply.

“Try it,” he urged. “You’ll find it is exceptionally fresh.”

With a gentle rise and fall of her shoulders in a sigh, she broke a small piece off and put it into her mouth. Chewed slowly, her eyes glassing over again.

His heart twisted painfully. She was so overset about his having taken matters into his own hands. Frustration beat through his blood and he tightened his jaw against the urge to speak sharply, to vent his emotion.

She had forced him to it.
He’d had no other choice. She
must
be in his protective custody at all times until he could arrange things so that he could be assured of her safety. The Earl of Barnet was a man who held extraordinary influence. Stephen doubted that Rebecca could even comprehend the scope of the man’s power.

I have to know his intent. I don’t even fully understand what he hopes to gain with Rebecca.

But after interrogating Barnet’s man and having had the previous night to reflect on things, Stephen had a fairly good idea.

That realization had turned his blood to ice crystals. And set his guts burning all night. He felt as though he had heaved up everything he’d eaten since Rebecca had run from him.

He studied her delicate profile, her girlish features. Candlelight softened the fine lines that the glaring sunlight in the carriage had thrown into stark relief.

Those little things only made her face dearer to him.

Love for her pressed on his chest like pain and he had to pause and breathe more slowly.

If he failed, if she came to harm, he would never be able to bear it.

He would die for this woman.

A sharp, stabbing pain jolted through his stomach.

Warning him.

Underneath the table, he fished in his pocket for the vial and took out an opiate pill. Then, with Rebecca’s attention fixed on the window, he slipped it into his mouth and washed it down with some of the claret. Then he took her wine glass and moved it closer to her. “At least have some of this. It will relax you and then you’ll see the whole matter between us more clearly.”

She didn’t turn back to him but she shook her head weakly.

Damn it all anyway.

He stood then strode over to his satchel and rummaged through the contents until he set his hand on an amber bottle. A roil of distaste twisted through his guts. He knew where this had come from. But still, he returned to her with the bottle. “You left this behind at the inn.”

She looked up, then stared at the bottle. But she still said nothing.

He took her wineglass and tossed the contents into the hearth. The wine hissed as it hit the flames. An oddly satisfying sound.

He opened the whisky and poured three fingers into the glass. Then he put it in front of her, setting it on the table with a heavy thud. “Drink it.”

She flickered a glance at the whisky and then to him.

“Drink it.”

She put the glass to her lips and drank. Slowly at first, then more quickly.

“He gave you that, didn’t he?”

Without looking up, she nodded.

“He knows that you prefer Scotch whisky to claret. But you wouldn’t tell me.”

She jerked her gaze to his. “You insist on regarding my association with him as a direct affront to you.”

“I admit to being resentful of how easily you allowed him into your life. You showed him yourself, all of yourself. Gave him all of your trust.”

Something sparked in the depths of her pale, pale blue eyes. “I didn’t just give him all of my trust at once. And he didn’t just demand it. He never rode roughshod over me the way you have. I knew exactly who he was and what he was. He didn’t keep secrets. He didn’t keep parts of himself hidden away. He earned my trust.”

“How did he earn your trust?”

“He
courted
me.”

“I see.”

But then the Earl of Ruel was a civilised, urbane gentleman.

What did Stephen know of being civilised? He wore a veneer of civility when he needed to but in truth he was a savage. A predator. A hired killer.

What had such an animal to offer any woman?

Rebecca was watching him closely. She narrowed her eyes. “And by courted me, I do not mean that Ruel slung me over his shoulder and hauled me to his tent and tossed me onto his bed, just in case you do not understand the meaning of the word.”

“So that’s what you want? You want courtship?”

“A little courtship is always nice.”

“I know seduction.”

“Yes, you do.” Her tone was accusing.

He felt a twinge of guilt. It rested uncomfortably upon him. He wasn’t used to being troubled by conscience. He had his duty and he enacted that duty. But he had—how had she put it? Ridden roughshod over her. Seduced her at time when she was weak, when another man likely would have offered her tenderness and comfort.

But he hadn’t had the time. He had his duty.

And he also was driven to ensure her safety, and he knew no other way to keep her safe except to enthral her and make her stay by his side.

Yet, he had failed in that endeavour.

She had not remained enthralled. She had run from him. Twice.

He should have paid less attention to seduction and courted her. Yet…

“I know precious little about courtship,” he admitted to her. The rare self-revelation left him feeling weak. Exposed.

“I want to be able to trust you.” Her gaze cut into him, seeking to penetrate his layers. “I’d like for you to fill in some of the missing gaps in your life. But I do not want more of your empty stories, such as you were unlucky at an archery contest or whatever quips you chose to cover the truth with.”

“There are too many things I cannot share with you, Rebecca, and believe me, you wouldn’t want to know in any case.”

“See, see!” Her face flushed and her eyes sparkled with anger. “That’s just what I asked you
not
to do!”

Telling her more about himself wasn’t going to help anything. He knew that. But what should he do?
Court
her?

The best he could do would be to attempt to court her.

Stephen didn’t like attempts. He preferred to act from a place of rock solid assurance. He would take in all the variables, study people, read books, seek training from a master if possible. He would do anything and everything to learn as much as he could before attempting anything.

Rebecca deserved to be courted.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the time at present.

* * * *

Anger boiled like molten metal in Rebecca’s blood. She reached across the table and grabbed the whisky bottle. Be damned to Stephen if he didn’t like to see a woman drink hard liquor, she no longer cared about his opinions. He had absolved her of the need to give him any consideration today with his insane actions. She poured a generous amount of the amber fluid into her glass, put it to her lips and tossed it back. Then she filled her glass again.