by Aliyah Burke
His first instinct was to shove his fist in the man’s throat for even offering her like that. Then he realized Adrys seemed put out by even making the suggestion.
“I need to hear it from her,” Colin said, his body alert, having honed in on the knowledge he could be alone with her sooner rather than later.
Adrys left and in a few short tics of time the man returned with Najja. She wore another drab gown and Colin longed to dress her in the finest silks, satins and velvets.
“You wished to see me, Mr. Faulkner?”
He bit back the demand to call him Colin. “Did you offer assistance?”
She unflinchingly met his gaze. “I did.”
“Why?” He had to know.
“You showed kindness to Lord Adrys and his family when they needed it. You need help, I am offering mine.”
It bothered him. Using her and how it was for the others.
“What about Miss Adrys?” he asked.
Adrys answered. “We will stay at Kittle Manor until your return. Then continue to London.”
“I accept Miss Najja’s help with one condition. Stay here while we are gone. My staff can keep you safe.” A click drew his attention from Adrys to discover Najja had slipped out. With a mental groan he resumed conversing with Adrys.
When that was over he strode from the room, the delivered missive laying forgotten on the desk. He sent footmen off to get things ready and one to find Wilkes.
The man arrived past midnight and they met in the kitchens. Colin sat on the counter and stared at his friend. His thick beard hiding a scar and only feeding the “mad” claim.
“Can you keep an eye out for me?” Colin asked.
Wilkes drank some coffee. “Here?”
“Najja and I are moving the whisky.”
Though it was hard to read, a knowing grin flashed across the normally stern face. “You think the daughter is in trouble without Najja?”
“The whole family is. You know that. They will stay here but…”
“No problem.” Wilkes rose and opened the doors before moving into the next room. Then the next. He stopped so quick, Colin almost slammed into his back. Before he could ask him what the problem was, he found it. Jo was tiptoeing towards the door. Her hair unbound and cascading around her cape.
Where is that chit sneaking off to? Colin stepped from behind his friend only to halt when Wilkes grabbed his arm.
“I want her when you tire of her, Faulkner.”
His brows nearly leaped off his head. “What?” he demanded in a choked whisper.
“The woman sneaking. Is she Adrys’ mistress then if not yours?”
“That is the viscount’s daughter, Josephine Adrys.”
“She is a nymph.”
Colin almost snorted. Wilkes spouted nonsense. “Hands off her, Wilkes.” Steel edged his tone.
Wilkes stiffened before grinning. “Sure thing.”
For a moment the face was the carefree one of his childhood friend. The one before the scandal of his family losing everything. But it was gone in a flash. Colin doubted Wilkes would listen but for the moment he had to stop Jo from leaving. Two steps were all he took before a voice floated from the dark.
“Where do you think you are going, Jo?”
Colin watched Jo freeze on the spot before turning to her right. “What do you care?” The question while haughty dripped pain.
From the shadows stepped the woman of his dreams. His throat went dry and the blood rushed to his loins. Najja wore black. No that wasn’t right, she wore skintight black. In the gentle light he could see her amazing shape, all the dips and swells. What the hell is she wearing?
“Why are you acting like this, Jo?”
“You are leaving.”
“You are acting like a child,” Najja said, her tone unyielding.
“You said you would stay until I was settled.”
“I did not lie.”
His gaze moved up and down Najja, shaft swelling, almost painful with its need for release.
“Then why leave?” Jo demanded with a stomp of her foot.
Najja launched into a spiel which although he had no knowledge of the language, the meaning was perfectly clear.
“She even speaks the language,” Wilkes muttered.
“Get your head out of your breeches, Wilkes,” he snapped. Pissed that Wilkes knew what was being said and he didn’t.
Jo stared at Najja for a while before she turned and headed upstairs without another word. Colin watched Najja rub her eyes before she began up as well.
“Listen to me, Wilkes,” he said directing his friend back into the kitchen. “Keep the family safe and your hands off Jo.”
Once Wilkes had departed he finally made his way to bed. He undressed in the glow from the burning fire and slid below the warm thick covers. He wanted to go see Najja, hold her, and kiss her. With a groan built from sexual tension he closed his eyes and waited impatiently for sleep to claim him.
His home bustled with a flurry of activity by the time he made it to the breakfast room. He chose his food and sat, noting how withdrawn Jo seemed to be. His Najja was not even in the room.
He never saw her until it was time for them to leave. Their horses were saddled and waiting. The air seemed even colder when Najja stepped from the house, a serene expression on her face. No, not serene. Composed.
Lord Adrys shared some words with her then assisted her into the saddle after she secured an item to the back of it. He swung up on Salvage and they were on their way. She didn’t say anything and he continued to wonder about the wisdom of his decision. Had he become so desperate to stop this he would risk a woman’s life?
After a few hours of riding where he couldn’t engage her in conversation, he slowed upon entering a bustling village, Stony Creek. People called out greetings to him and waved, he returned the pleasantries, casting furtive glances to his silent companion.
If the open and almost suspicious looks from the villagers bother Najja it never showed on her face. Her head bowed he didn’t surmise anything other than she observed everything around them.
He stopped by the large stable. A tall lad came out front to meet him.
“Good afternoon, George.”
“Mr. Faulkner, good to see you.” Blue eyes flickered to the woman beside him. “Ma’am.”
“You will take good care of my horses?”
“Of course, sir. They will be just fine when you return.”
“Good.” He dismounted and moved to reach up for Najja. Colin did his damndest to appear merely a gentleman while he lowered her to the ground. Ignoring the feel of her sliding along him, the scent of crisp fresh air, horse, and her own culmination of vanilla and spiced roses.
“Keep others away from the stallion, he can be a bit testy.”
“I will see to him personally,” George said with all seriousness.
Colin believed him. The lad loved horses. His eyes, however, asked why a woman had been on a stallion, even if he never voiced the question.
“Very good.”
Najja stiffened slightly when her horse was led away. Colin watched an ear flick back toward them and he heard Najja say something in a low tone to the animal. Both ears swiveled forward and he carried on.
“Come, luv.”
She walked behind him, her items in hand. He wanted to slide an arm around her and have her at his side. Eventually he stopped and turned to her. She waited, again, head down. A low grumble filled his chest.
“Damn you,” he hissed, pleased when her head snapped up. “Walk beside me. I am escorting you. You are not my servant.”
Silent, she stepped up beside him. More than ready to growl in frustration he struck out for The Garble, the inn he used in the village. Najja beside him this time.
The inn fell silent at his entrance. Their entrance.
Mrs. Grand approached with a smile. “Mr. Faulkner, I have your room ready.” She frowned and looked at Najja.
“She stays with me,” he said in a tone which booked
no room for discussion.
“Yes, sir.” She led the way to a private dining area. As a maid brought in food, Mrs. Grand touched his arm. “I am sorry, Mr. Faulkner, but the wagon is not ready yet. They had to fix a wheel.”
He struggled to contain the grin. “Not a problem. Let me know when all is ready.”
She bobbed a curtsey. “Very good, sir. Does your…does she require anything else?”
“Ask,” he said with impatience, shrugging out of his coat.
He watched as a hesitant Mrs. Grand went to Najja. The women spoke in tones too low for him to understand but when she left, Mrs. Grand had a slight smile on her face.
Colin remained by the small table until the door closed, leaving them blissfully alone. He blinked and with languid steps moved to stand before her. Najja tipped her head back and stared at him from pooling eyes.
He didn’t give her a choice, just swooped in and kissed her. Poured all the feelings he carried with him into it. Hands on her hips he pulled her tight to him, her strong yet feminine physique matched perfectly in his arms.
A longing for her exploded within him. He wanted nothing more than to lay her down, remove her clothes and…
She stopped kissing him. He frowned and stared at her. Large and luminous eyes, kiss swollen lips. Damn it all he wanted her.
“What?” he asked.
“People are coming.”
Her statement was said with conviction. One more kiss, a mere brush of lips and he had them seated when the door opened. They ate leisurely, glad to be out of the cold and waited in the room once finished. A few people passed in to talk to him. Najja sat in a corner chair, most of the time, eyes closed.
Now she looked serene. And damn if he didn’t want to change that. Make her look pleasured, sated and mussed. He wanted her hair unconfined so he could wrap it around his hand while he plundered her mouth.
“Mr. Faulkner,” a male voice snapped him back. Jerked him from where he and Najja were naked and in bed to the private dining parlor in the inn. One last glance to Najja who had not moved at all and he gave Tucker, one of his men, his full attention.
Chapter Seven
Najja sat cross-legged in the chair and took deep, even breaths. Below the dress she had on her breeches as well as her sais. Around her flowed voices. Colin’s deep and resonating. But she catalogued the pitch of each he spoke to and the smell surrounding them.
She’d told Mrs. Grand that Mr. Faulkner was escorting her north as a personal favor for Viscount Adrys. The woman had accepted that. Najja had no wish to leave Fineas behind but she hoped he would be safe.
Her hand flexed and she stopped herself from reaching for a weapon. Eyes open, she gazed about the room while Colin closed the door behind his last visitor, and they were alone. Her instincts screamed otherwise.
Colin gave her a look that spurred her into action. She slid off the chair and bobbed a curtsey. “Thank you, Mr. Faulkner for sharing your meal with me.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. She retook the chair and spoke when he took another step in her direction.
“I wonder if this new house will have such rooms as Kittle Manor.” His brow lifted. “Done in blues, browns and greens. Beautiful rooms.”
Colin sat in a chair and stretched out his long legs before him. “Sounds like it.”
He asked nothing else and stayed away from her until someone came to inform them the wagon was ready. She on the other hand meandered slowly around the room searching for the person she could feel spying on them. All the while she could also feel Colin’s heavy stare fixated upon her.
At the wagon he helped her up and she thanked him. The cold air sliced through her clothing making her grateful for extra layers. The two heavy horses seemed ready and eager to begin.
“What was that about?” he asked as the village fell away behind the moving wagon.
“Someone hid behind the wall and watched.”
He cursed and she looked at him. Again the urge to comfort this man filled her.
“I believe it was more searching for gossip. They wanted to see if you had a thing with the maid you escorted. If you were after a dalliance.”
His chuckle was dark and decadent. “I wanted one. Still do.”
Heat unfurled in her belly. Forcing her attention to the reason she had accompanied him here, she cleared her throat. “The final man you spoke to, Mr. Leigh, he is angry.”
Colin sighed. “Explain.”
“His face filled with defiant anger every time you looked away. Have you known him long?”
“Yes. His brother…” his voice trailed off and she understood.
Didn’t make him any less suspect to her but she understood. Colin Faulkner had a fault which set him apart from the others with wealth.
He cared.
They stuck to normal procedure. However since they started later, it was that much later when they halted for a break to rest the horses and feed themselves. She took care of the fire while he saw to the horses.
“I should have left you at the house,” he said warming his hands before accepting the offered food.
“Why?”
“You are a woman. I must have been insane to listen to Wilkes and Adrys.”
“I know I am a woman.” She ate some dried fish. “Think about it this way. Those who attack will have the same view of me as a woman and a maid. Meek, scared, nonthreatening. That will be their mistake.”
“Do you fear anything?” His eyes glinted in the firelight.
My feelings for you. “I fear the day I leave Jo. I have never had a friend and I fear the pain that will come with losing her.”
His jaw clenched briefly. When he spoke, however, his tone didn’t reveal whether or not he like her explanation. A cry from above preceded the winds picking up and smashing them with biting force. Then the first flake fell.
Snow.
Their eyes met across the fire. “We should get going,” he stated. “We have another couple hours to the night stop.”
She gathered up their things while he readied the horses that’d benefitted from the rest. A lantern their only light in the night. Her skin prickled and she shifted on the wood seat.
“You okay, luv?”
“Did these attacks always happen in the same place?”
“No.” He was silent for a few seconds. “Why?”
“We are being watched.”
Colin stiffened a tiny bit but showed no other outward reaction. “How can you tell?” he asked, his tone pitched lower than the sound of the horses’ hooves.
“Years of experience.”
“Want to stop?”
“No, let them make the first move. We still have the advantage.”
“I will never forgive--”
“Stop,” she interrupted. “Remain focused.”
“How am I not supposed to think about the fact I am placing your life in danger? I want you safe.”
“Would you be this concerned were I a man?” She wrapped her hand around the handle of her whip before forcing herself to release it. “Of course you would not be,” she answered for him. “I am supposed to be a maid, you hovering protectively over me will not help in the deception.”
He didn’t speak just shifted his leg so it pressed intimately along hers. All instincts screamed she should maintain distance. As usual with Colin, she ignored common sense and stayed still, allowing the contact. The hard muscle spread added warmth throughout her, assisting in the battle against the chill which encompassed the night.
She closed her eyes and relied on her hearing to search the night. Blocking the familiar sounds, the creaking of the heavily loaded wagon, the horses’ steps, and Colin’s breathing, she sorted through the others. Nothing out of the ordinary could be ascertained.
Whomever watched them did so from a distance. Opening her eyes, she blinked away the snowflakes that resided upon her lashes. In the meager light she studied Colin surreptitiously from behind lowered lashes. Snowflakes dotted his beaver hat and lin
gered upon his hair, which wasn’t protected, as well as gracing his powerful shoulders. His face concentrated on directing the horses on the safest part of the road. He handled the ribbons with calm assurance.
“You are staring, luv,” he said without taking his attention from the task at hand.
“You make it hard not to,” she replied with candor.
He responded by pushing tighter against her leg. The rest of the way to their next resting place was accomplished in silence. Each of them ready for anything the dark night sought to throw at them.
Out from the blackness shone a welcoming light. She figured it was all normal for the trip. A small cottage could be made out the closer they drew. A small, wiry man abandoned the house and met them. His white hair stuck up in tufts around his head. Small glasses perched precariously upon his bulbous nose.
“God be praised,” he said, holding one of the horses. “I worried those brigands got ye, Mr. Faulkner.”
Colin jumped down with ease as he laughed. “Had a late start, Gentry. Thanks for keeping an eye out.”
The man he’d identified as Gentry puffed out his chest at the praise. “I always wait, sir.”
“Good man, I know you do. Can you see to the horses, we would like to get out of the cold for a spell before we carry on? Give them some oats. They have earned it.”
She dismounted and grabbed her bag before standing off to the side, allowing the dark to obscure her.
“Of course sir. There is some stew over the fire. The missus made it.” Gentry led the horses off to a lean-to which would at least offer them some shelter.
Items in hand, she followed Colin inside the small house. Very tiny. This worked well since the single fire in the hearth warmed the interior, banishing the cold which had seeped into her bones.
England in the winter…how I miss Africa.
A sharp knock came to the door while she was at the fire. Gentry entered at Colin’s bid.
“All set, Mr. Faulkner. You and--my goodness, a woman? You are travelling with a woman?” His words displayed his astonishment.
Najja watched the man’s eyes nearly jump from his head. Biting the inside of her cheek so she didn’t laugh at his shock, she dipped a curtsey. “Good eve, Mr. Gentry.”
