She pulled her hand out of his and crossed her arms in front of herself. “Is this all a jest to you?”
“A jest? Nay.” He gripped her shoulders and kissed her hard. Lifting his mouth far enough away so he could speak, he added in a rough growl, “I see the need in your eyes. I heard yer breath draw ragged and felt your yearning when I tasted yer skin. Ye want me as much as I do ye. Do not tempt me to think I am a fool not to take advantage of this. Or more of a fool than I already consider myself. No man has that much restraint.”
She stared at him. She could see so little of his face, but an undeniable tension made his silhouette taut. His hands on her shoulders held her like a hawk’s talons curled about its prey.
“Nor any woman,” she whispered, not daring to speak more loudly. “I cannot stay here. Not with you. I must go to Bannatyne Hall.”
“Aye.”
“If you think that, why did you halt the messenger?”
“The fewer people who know where ye are, the better ‘twill be.” He released her and stood. Holding out his hand to her, he smiled icily. “Ye know I can keep a secret.”
Sian’s hand rose, but she quickly lowered it. “What is the price for you to keep my secret?”
“The same as if ye were to reveal mine.”
“Yours?” She frowned. “What secret do I know about you that no one else knows?”
He said nothing as he took her hand and brought her to her feet. “Maybe the answer to that is another secret I should keep.”
“You are talking moonshine.” She started to add more, then grimaced as she put weight on her left foot. “Dash it!”
He knelt beside her and without asking a by-your-leave, lifted the filthy hem of her gown again. Gently lifting her left foot off the floor, he picked up her shoe. She wobbled, then rested her hand on his broad shoulder. She knew he could hold her with ease.
“I am sorry,” he murmured. “This may hurt when I put yer shoe back on.”
“Then do not.”
“Ye must not walk any farther than necessary.” Reaching up, he took her hand to keep her from toppling. He handed her the shoe.
“If you had not waylaid the messenger, there would be a carriage waiting for me.”
“Where too many would have seen it. Bennath means well, but she cannot understand the cost of others learning ye sought refuge in an academy.” He scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than her shoe. “That means a brothel, in case ye did not know.”
She was not about to own that the term had confused her. “Put me down, Wraith.”
“Why? Ye cannot walk on that foot, and ye cannot stay in this room. If I do not carry ye from here, ye will be stuck long past dawn. Ye will not escape unseen then.” He walked toward the door, almost squatting to get beneath the low rafter, but holding her with the care of a mother with a child.
Sian did not argue further. He was right. If she could have walked to Bannatyne Hall on her own, she would not have stayed at the brothel. So many times she had chided Wraith for not treating her as a gentleman should a lady. Now that he was, she should not be annoyed.
“Take me home, Wraith. Please!” She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and buried her face against his neck. She sighed, letting the air seep past her lips.
He drew in a sharp breath, and she looked up at his still shrouded face which was as impossible to read as the ghost’s. His mouth covered hers. As demanding as his previous kiss, its fervor told her he was having trouble restraining himself from carrying her back to the pallet and making love with her. He nuzzled her hair, pushing it aside so he could run his tongue along her ear. As she quivered in his arms, she thought she heard him whisper her name. He had never used it before, and some wall he hid behind as Wraith had crumbled, allowing him closer and turning her name into a sweet intimacy.
“Wraith, I must not,” she said, even as her body begged her to surrender to his amazing touch.
“But ye want to?”
Even though she knew she should lie, she could not. “Yes. I want to. Very, very much.”
“But ye have no idea who I truly am.”
“I know you are a very enticing man whom I must not be with because I know who and what I am.” Her voice broke on the last few words, and she closed her eyes.
He started to speak, then cleared his throat. “I am taking ye to Bannatyne Hall. Now! If we stay here, we shall use this room as it was meant to be used. When I imagine making love with ye, sweetheart, it is not in a school of Venus.”
She wisely said nothing. Until tonight, she had tried to persuade herself that his seductive words and beguiling kisses were meant only to distract her so she would not intrude further on his crimes. But she had tasted the truth on his lips and she had sensed it as his hungry mouth slid along her eager skin. Even if he had originally intended only to keep her off-balance in order to deflect attention away from his forays, something had changed before he woke her with that searing kiss.
As he opened the door and bent his head once more to go beneath it, the hood of his cape caught. It was flung back, and she heard his curse.
“Let me,” she said.
“If you see—”
“My eyes are now closed.” She ran her hands down past the domino that tied behind his head to find the hood. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“What if I said no?”
She flipped the hood up over his head and opened her eyes. “I would be a fool to answer that question.”
His playful grin sent a renewed longing along her. “Aye, ye would. Quiet now, sweetheart. It would do neither of us any good to be discovered now.”
Sian nodded. She had not considered that Wraith had put himself in danger by coming to the brothel. If some of Gillis’s men were cavorting with Bennath’s women and espied Wraith, there could be trouble. She did not want his reward for saving her to be his death.
Had the floorboards creaked so loudly when she came along the hallway with Bennath? She heard voices below, then a triumphant shout.
Wraith chuckled under his breath and said, “Someone is celebrating his good fortune. Fool! Announcing it with such glee is sure to make others eager to help him lose his winnings.”
“They are playing cards?” she asked, astounded. “Here?”
“Bennath is happy to provide all sort of sport for her patrons, even the ones who bellow like rams in heat.” He laughed again.
If that infectious sound teased her into laughing, too, she was not sure she would be able to stop. Hysteria tickled her throat, ready to burst out at the slightest provocation.
When they reached the staircase, Wraith kept on walking. She tugged on his sleeve and pointed at the stairs. He shook his head and mouthed, “Trust me.”
She clamped her lips closed before she released the sobs bubbling within her. She had no idea what he planned, but she was certain of one thing. He did have a plan to get them both out of this volatile situation.
“I am putting ye down,” Wraith murmured against the top of her head. “Just for a moment. Stay where I put ye.”
Dozens of questions battered her lips, but she only nodded.
Agony thrust up her left leg as he set her on her feet. Tears blossomed into her eyes. She shook her head when he whispered, “Is it intolerable?” The pain was nasty, but not as bad as being discovered by Gillis’s band of killers. It did not matter tonight whether he led the wreckers or not. He could command these men to slay her and Wraith.
She leaned back against the uneven wall and raised her left foot off the floor. Watching Wraith creep forward, she wondered how such a tall man could move with the stealth of a cat. He peered around an open doorway, then edged back. She heard him mutter his prayers backwards.
“What is wrong?” she asked when he came close enough so he would be able to hear her whisper.
“Digory is at the base of the backstairs.”
“Who is he?”
He gave her a taut grin. “‘Tis his task to make sure none
of Bennath’s customers leave without paying for the house’s services.”
“You seem to know a lot about this place.”
“I make it a practice to know as much as I can about everyone in the village. I would be a stupe not to know who might help me and who could give me trouble.” He chuckled. “Like ye.”
“Will he let us pass?”
“Aye, but his silence does not come cheaply. There must be another way.” He paused, then his smile returned. “Aye, I know just the way.” Without giving her a warning, he swept her back up into his arms.
She bit off her shriek of surprise, but a small squeak escaped. A chair scraped at the base of the stairwell.
Wraith did not hesitate. He opened the closest door and stepped into the room. The light from the hallway flowed in with them. Setting her on a rickety chair next to the bed, he ordered, “Wait here.”
“Wraith—”
He silenced her, as he had so often, with a thrilling kiss. “Give me two minutes to get Bennath alone so I can persuade her that she would be wise to say nothing of your visit here tonight. Then ye must come to the window.” He pointed to a double window. “Can ye walk that far?”
“I will.”
“Good. Two minutes, sweetheart.” With his cape swirling behind him, he rushed from the room. He closed the door, and she was left in darkness.
Through the thin walls, Sian heard Wraith go down the stairs. The rumble of male voices filtered up to her, but she could not discern any words. He must be talking with Digory. Then she heard both men laugh.
She clasped her hands in her lap and stared at them. Wraith had not been worried about Digory seeing him. His concerns had been for her. For the first time, she wondered what Wraith would say to persuade Bennath to keep the owner of the brothel from revealing that Sian had been under her roof.
As she counted off the seconds, two minutes seemed to stretch into an eternity. She had reached 70 seconds when she heard footsteps outside the door. The latch on the door rattled.
Paying no attention to the pain in her left ankle, she hobbled to hide behind the opening door. She pressed her hands against the wall and drew in a deep breath to scream if she must. The captive air began to burn in her chest, but she did not release it as the door pushed toward her.
“Thought ye said she was here,” grumbled a man.
No one answered him.
She wanted to see what he was doing. The door stood between her and the man. His shadow stretched into the room. That gave her no clue to anything about him, because she could not recall what Wraith’s shadow had looked like. Was the man as tall as the shadow suggested, or was the light from the hallway stretching it?
Reminding her curiosity that satisfying it would betray her, she let the air sift softly past her lips. Just as quietly, she drew in another breath.
“Maybe she told me the wrong room.” The man scratched his head, but did not leave.
How much longer would he remain here? Two minutes and more had expired. Wraith expected her to be at the window by now, but she could not leave her hiding place.
The window rattled.
The man started for it.
Sian leaped from her hiding place and, paying the agony in her left ankle no mind, grabbed the chair. She swung it at the man before he even saw her. He fell face first to the floor, then struggled to rise. She struck him again. One of the legs flew off and hit him on the skull before caroming off the wall. He dropped back to the floor.
Half-hopping, half-running to the door, she realized the shoe on her right foot had come off. In the hallway, no doubt. She did not dare to retrieve it, so she closed the door. She listened for footsteps and screeching floorboards, but the hallway remained silent. For a moment, she was astonished; then she realized the thuds might not have been enough for Bennath to leave a customer and investigate.
She limped across the room. Unlatching the window, she swung both sides open. Below, she saw a cloaked rider on a bay horse. Not even the darkness could conceal Wraith’s broad shoulders as he motioned for her to climb out the window.
“Have you lost your mind?” she gasped, so startled that she spoke aloud.
He replied in a hoarse whisper, “Come quickly, or ye will lose something more than yer mind.”
She looked toward the door as she heard someone climbing the stairs. The man on the floor was stirring. She had no choice.
Just moving sent pain through her ankle, but she had to get out of the room. Propping the three-legged chair against the wall, she carefully knelt on it. She gripped one side of the window as she sat on the wide sill.
“Feet first,” he ordered from below in the same hushed voice, “and hurry.”
She whispered a prayer as she turned onto her stomach and let her feet drop out. Hanging from the sill, she tried to dig her toes into any space between the stones. Pain scored her left foot so fiercely she almost released the sill.
Wide hands clasped her at the waist and guided her down. Wraith’s hands! He was settling her on his legs at the same time he steered the horse into the thickest shadows behind the cottage.
“What took ye so long?” he demanded quietly.
“Him.” She pointed back at the window where the man she had struck peered out the window. “Oh, sweet—!”
His gloved hand covered her mouth, muffling the rest of her gasp as they watched Gillis scan the yard beneath the window. Could he see them in the shadows? Her heart thundered in her ears. She told herself he could not hear it, but he looked directly toward them. Wraith tensed behind her, holding the horse still.
Then Gillis drew his head back into the room and closed the window.
Wraith did not move until a light burst through the panes. Someone must have brought a lamp into it, effectively making the night even more stygian to anyone in the room.
At a slow, quiet walk, Wraith’s horse carried them away from the house.
Once they had put a quarter mile between them and the brothel, he took his hand from her mouth and asked, “Did he see ye?”
“No.”
“Are ye sure?”
“I hid behind the door until I hit him with the chair.”
“Ye did what?” He laughed and set the horse to a quicker pace. “That is twice ye have triumphed over Gillis.”
“But he does not know I hit him.”
“And he must not find out.” He drew his cloak around her as they neared St. Gundred. “Be silent.”
Sian was glad to obey that order. She rested her cheek on his chest and closed her eyes, but she could not shut out the memory of everything that had happened. The shivers began as Bannatyne Hall came into sight. She could not halt them.
“It is all right,” Wraith said when she apologized. “It is the aftermath of battle. We all get those shudders sometimes.”
She did not want to think about his battles. She wanted to stay close to him and forget about the reasons they should not be together. And give herself to the one reason they should.
Keeping the horse on the grass so its hooves would not clatter on stone, Wraith brought them close to a small terrace she had not seen before. He edged out of the saddle and dismounted before lifting her off the horse. Carrying her to the terrace, he set her on the low wall.
“This is as far as I should take ye,” he said with a rueful smile. “We cannot chance me taking ye into the Hall.”
“I wish it did not have to be that way.”
“Aye, so do I.” He raised his head to look up at the house. “I would gladly take ye to yer bedchamber and tuck ye in myself.” Without a pause, he said, “Ye will want this.” He held out the shoe she had thought lost.
“Thank you.” She drew it on and then lifted her left foot cautiously to slip the other shoe on. She wobbled and would have fallen off the wall if Wraith had not steadied her.
“What are ye doing?”
“I cannot go inside with only one shoe on. If I chance to see someone, there will be questions. Questions could lead to
St. Gundred and beyond, and then all your kindness will have been for naught.”
“Ye risk doing more damage to yer foot.”
“A lady—”
“Curse yer sense of propriety.” He snatched the shoe from her. Drawing a knife, he ran it along one side of the sole. The shoe split wide enough so she would be able to slip her swollen foot into it.
She held out her hand for the shoe, but he knelt and slid it gently onto her foot. “Does that feel all right?” he asked.
“Yes. It is good no one can see us, or someone would mistake you for my charming prince.” She put her hand up to cover her mouth, but it was too late. The words, fueled by fatigue and anguish, had escaped before she had time to consider them.
Again.
“I have done all required of a gallant fool by rescuing ye from what ye would consider a life of shame.” He rose and tweaked her nose. “Go inside, sweetheart. ‘Tis time for the princess to return to her castle. Ye are, ye must own, a very bedraggled princess.”
“Thank you for all you have done tonight, Wraith.”
“All?” With a laugh, he drew her into his arms once more. There was nothing teasing about the kiss he placed on her lips. As her hands stroked his shoulders, he sought deep within her mouth for his pleasure. The eager puffs of his breath caressed her tongue, and she had no doubts of his yearning to satisfy his need for her.
“Another time, sweetheart,” he whispered. “And in another place.”
She said nothing as he released her with slow reluctance. What could she say? If they had met under other circumstances, then. . . No, that was absurd, because in any other situation, it would have been unlikely they would have done more than exchange a pleasant greeting.
Standing, she watched him turn to where his horse waited. “You avoided explaining one thing. Why did Bennath’s messenger reveal his message when you stopped him?”
He faced her. “Because I asked.”
Her eyes widened as pain that had nothing to do with her ankle bit into her. “He is one of your wreckers, isn’t he? Bennath said she was sending a lad. How can you involve a mere boy in your crimes?”
His smile vanished, and his voice grew as deep as the shadows. “Do not assume anything with me. Ye know nothing of what I ask of my friends or what they expect of me. Ye know nothing of the coming war between the wreckers, the war that will be set off by the slightest thing. Maybe just a single crate washing ashore and both groups laying claim to it.”
Sea Wraith Page 13
