“I don’t know,” she answered.
Her gaze dropped from his and followed the line of his naked chest. The water ran in rivulets down the hard planes of his stomach. He grabbed the cloth she was going to use to dry herself after her bath and rubbed it across his skin and hair. Her eyes followed each moment. She bit her lip, her breath growing shallow. He took his time drying off. The heat in her eyes as she watched sparked an answering desire in him.
She glanced up and caught him watching. He smiled and her cheeks flamed bright red and she hastily looked away.
“You don’t know?” he asked.
She straightened, jutting her pert little chin into the air. “Betraying you wouldn’t have helped me much.”
“They would have taken you home.”
“You’ve said you’ll take me. I believe you. I’m not in any particular hurry.”
Her words meant more to him than he expected. “You believe me?”
“Of course,” she murmured. “You’ve not harmed me. You’ve actually gone to great lengths to see to my comfort. As far as I know, you haven’t lied to me. You promised to protect me. And you have. So yes. I believe you.”
She was so beautiful standing there in the candlelight. In his whole life, he didn’t know if anyone had had as much faith in him as she did at that moment. He came toward her and she sucked in a breath when he reached out and brushed her hair from her face.
“You’re trembling,” he said. His fingers lingered on her cheek. He stood close enough hardly a breath of space was between them. Heat rolled through him in waves, though he’d just spent several minutes emerged in a cold bath. The creamy white of her exposed skin where the blanket had slipped flushed pink.
“I’m…” She looked up into his eyes. His thumb brushed across her lower lip and she shivered. “I’m…cold.”
He glanced down and grasped the quilt, pulling it more tightly against her. “So am I,” he said, surprising a laugh from her.
“Come.” He took her hand and led her closer to the fire. She sat on the bed while he stoked the flames. “I need to change out of the rest of these wet clothes,” he said.
Her mouth dropped open a bit and she turned around on the bed. He laughed and bent to tug his sodden boots from his feet. He finished peeling off the rest of his wet clothing and reached into the armoire for dry clothes. Though he stood with his back to her, he could feel her gaze burning into him. The thought of her watching him while he dressed stirred his blood, inflaming a passion he’d have difficulty containing if he let himself lose control.
Still, he couldn’t resist playing a little. If she wanted to watch, he’d give her something worthwhile to see. Though he’d keep his back to her so she couldn’t see just how affected he was by her sitting naked beneath that quilt, watching him dress.
He pulled a dry shirt on, letting the muscles of his back bunch and stretch as he lifted his arms to let the fabric slide over his body. He made sure the material fell slowly, past his broad back, over his tapered waist, and finally over his buttocks. A quick intake of breath from the direction of the bed was his reward for his ministrations. The thought of her sinking her nails into his backside while he moved over her hardened him to the point of pain and he had the sudden urge to see exactly how she’d react to the knowledge of what she did to him. He grabbed a pair of breeches and turned, letting her see him. All of him. She gasped and quickly resumed her perusal of the opposite wall. His chuckle had her cheeks burning so hotly he was certain her eyes watered.
He sat beside her, the bed sinking beneath his weight. “If you’d like a closer look, I’d be happy to oblige.”
Elizabet’s mouth dropped open. He didn’t know what had made him offer. Even if she desired him as he did her, and by the heat in her eyes he was certain she did, nothing good could come of it. He couldn’t keep her. And he wouldn’t take her maidenhead and send her back to her family, no longer virgin and unwed. It would ruin her. Her father he had no qualms ruining. The man was corrupt, cruel, and most likely a traitor. But Elizabet was not her father. And John had no desire to harm her, in any way.
Before he could move away she bit her lip and raised her hand. His forehead creased in a frown but he didn’t move away as she tentatively touched him, brushing her hand along his jaw. She ran her finger along his lower lip as he’d done to her. He sucked in a sharp breath and the sound seemed to ignite something within her. She leaned toward him. He knew he should stop. It was sheer madness. He was a highwayman, an outlaw with a price on his head. A man, not her husband, whose face she’d never even seen.
And she didn’t seem to care.
Just one kiss.
His lips hovered over hers. She pulled back slightly. “You said you wouldn’t kiss me until I asked,” she said with a small smile.
“You can ask me later.”
His lips touched hers and she sank into him. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. His heart thundered in his chest. Her lips were sweet, soft. She yielded to him, following his lead with an eagerness that made his head swim. This woman was a dream. A lovely, intoxicating dream from which he never wanted to wake. She moaned, a soft sound that had him threading his fingers through her hair and nipping at her lip. She opened for him and he delved inside.
His body burned for her touch. She pressed herself closer, wrapping her arms about his neck. She plunged her fingers into his hair and held on tight, which only spurred him on. But when she touched the bottom of the mask, he grabbed her hand and pulled away from her, shaking his head.
“No,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Why?” she asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “Haven’t I proven that I can be trusted? That I’ll protect you? And your secret?”
The hurt in her voice cut him deep. But there was no help for it. “This is for your protection,” he said. “You can’t be made to tell what you do not know.”
Elizabet searched his eyes and finally nodded. “All right.” She sighed and dropped her hand. “As you wish.”
He reached up to cup her cheek. “What I wish is of no consequence. It’s just how things must be.”
She nodded, swallowing as though a lump had formed in her throat. Her eyes looked suspiciously moist and he regretted having caused her pain. But it would save her greater pain later on.
“Come, lie down,” he said. “It’s been a long night. And we’ll have to leave at sunrise.”
“What? Where are we going?”
He gently pushed her down on the bed and dragged the coverlets over her. “It’s far past the time I took you back.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “I’ve enjoyed our time together. Far more than I expected. But you have to go back. You don’t belong in my world.”
She flinched at that and he tried again. “The soldiers might be returning. You’ve shot one of them. Even if you didn’t kill him, that isn’t something they can allow.”
“And if they return for me, that means my presence is now a danger to you.”
“Yes. I suppose it is. But more importantly, you are in danger. I would fight for you, my lady, until my dying breath. But even I cannot win against so many.”
He caressed her cheek and leaned down to gently kiss her. “Get some rest. I’ll watch over you tonight.”
She looked like she’d protest. He understood completely. He’d rather spend their last moments together finishing what they’d started. But that couldn’t happen. John moved off the bed and sat in the chair by the fire, turning the clothes drying there. He noticed her chemise swimming in the cauldron and fished it out, laying it out to dry with his clothing. Elizabet rolled to her side and watched him until her eyes began to close.
John remained awake for hours, just watching her. He didn’t want to sleep, but they were as secure as he could make them and sleep dragged at him. But instead of retreating to the pallet on the floor where he’d been sleeping each night, he climbed into the bed and lay next to her. His arms wra
pped around her from behind and pulled her close to his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to her head and she settled back against him. He still ached for her touch. Still longed to kiss the lips that were pleasantly swollen with his kisses.
Perhaps someday. If things were different. Only he wouldn’t pull away when she touched his mask. He’d let her remove it. And then he’d finished what they’d started.
Chapter Five
Elizabet watched Jack ride off with a sinking heart. Her real life beckoned. One that included familial obligations, rules, and etiquette. Most definitely no romantic highwaymen who could set her blood to fire with a mere brush of his lips. Jack would only live in her fantasies now. Perhaps she should take to riding around in carriages full of treasure and see if she could instigate another meeting. Though she’d probably only succeed in encountering an outlaw with a much smaller sense of honor and gallantry. Jack was a breed unto himself. Any other highwayman she might meet would mean only danger or death for her.
Jack had left her in the dark of night near the main road within sight of a respectable inn. He’d given her more than enough money to hire a carriage and keep the innkeeper from asking too many questions. He’d promised he’d watch her from the tree line until she was safely inside, protecting her still. But he of course couldn’t accompany her all the way to her home. Or risk being seen at all.
Arriving home in the wee hours of the morning had garnered the expected reaction. The sleepy butler had taken one look at her and sent a squealing maid running for her mother. And then all hell had quietly broken loose.
Elizabet knew her parents wouldn’t be happy about what had happened but she’d assumed, hoped, that their anger would be aimed at the man who’d taken her. Not that she wanted Jack in trouble, but he wasn’t there and knew how to keep himself out of trouble. She probably should have known better. Her mother did at least show some concern over her state. But once the doctor that her mother had insisted on sending for confirmed that Elizabet was all right and her wound had healed rather nicely, her mother’s concern focused on other things. Had anyone seen her getting out of a strange carriage? In the dead of night? Unaccompanied?
Pointing out that no one was likely to have seen her as they were probably in bed sleeping did not improve matters. Mother was furious.
“We must keep Sir Robert from discovering anything about this…distasteful business.”
“I’ve been gone for over a week. Where does he think I’ve been?”
“We’ve put it around that you’ve been ill.”
Elizabet eyes widened with surprise and hurt. “You didn’t tell the authorities? You had no one looking for me?” The small fissure in her heart that had her mother’s name on it cracked open wider. “Didn’t you care at all?”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Of course we cared. We were trying to protect your reputation! What do you think would become of you if it was known you’ve spent the last week God knows where with a man not your husband? And a notorious highwayman at that! You’d be ruined. We assumed there would be a ransom demand for you eventually. ”
“And if no ransom demand had come?”
Lady Harding’s lips pursed. Then the fight seemed to drain out of her. “I don’t know. I…your father…” She walked over and slumped to the sofa, leaning back against the cushions with a tired sigh.
“Come sit by me,” she said, patting the cushion next to her.
Elizabet hesitated, not sure if she trusted this calmer version of her mother. She went to the sofa and perched on the edge. Lady Harding sat up and took her hands.
“My dear child. I know you think I’m some sort of terrible monster, but I only have your best interests at heart. You’re home. Safe. Unharmed and unspoiled by the grace of God.”
Elizabet opened her mouth to argue that point but thought better of it. Her shoulder still ached. But she didn’t think her mother would appreciate being corrected.
Lady Harding continued. “Sir Robert is a good man with a good family name and connections, beautiful homes, and enough money to keep you extremely comfortable for the rest of your days. There is not a girl around who wouldn’t be thrilled to be his wife. I love you too much to risk all of that. Whether it was your doing or not, what happened to you could ruin any chances of your marriage. Sir Robert might be willing to take you without a dowry, but not if there is scandal attached to your name. All anyone must know is that you were ill.”
Elizabet weighed her words carefully. She knew her mother had her future in mind. Elizabet’s heart would never pound in her chest when Sir Robert was near. She wouldn’t dream of him night after night, or find herself staring off into space as she relived every moment of their time together. But he would ensure her comfort, if not her happiness. It was more than many women got.
Her mother was waiting for a response. “I understand, Mother. I know I’m lucky to have Sir Robert. I won’t jeopardize our agreement.”
“Good. Now, hurry up to bed.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Elizabet.”
She turned around and glanced back at her mother.
“I am glad you are home.”
Elizabet smiled, warmth spreading through her at her mother’s words despite the ache in her heart left by her highwayman. “I am too.”
* * *
Elizabet twitched her fan open, sending a faint breeze across her heated face. How she could be could be so thrilled and excited and yet so full of despair all at the same time bemused her. A ball at the palace of Whitehall in London with the merry court of King Charles II was a sight to behold. The fact that it was most likely the last ball she’d attend made the experience bittersweet. Her decrepit but extremely wealthy betrothed, Sir Robert Whitely, was not one for merriment. Or so she’d been told. In fact he rarely left his country estate, preferring the quiet life far from the hustle and bustle of the court. Though at his age that was probably to be expected.
The music swelled and she watched the swish of the women’s skirts as they danced. She longed to be back on the dance floor herself, but any more exertion and she might make a complete disgrace of herself. For a moment she wished she hadn’t had her maid lace her up quite so tight. But Mother had wanted her looking her best. For him. The man she’d soon be tied to for the rest of her life. Though she doubted the old curmudgeon could even see her, so the effort seemed wasted.
Then again, she was free to enjoy herself for the moment as he’d failed to make an appearance. And at least one man seemed to appreciate the efforts which had gone into her dress for the evening. Their eyes met for the dozenth time and she hid a coy smile behind her fan. She’d seen him around court before and had always noticed him. It would be difficult not to. The man exuded a vitality that seemed to draw women to him like bees to a banquet. She’d never asked about him though, not wanting to be just another of his multitude of admirers. But now…something about him seemed so familiar.
“Alice,” she said, nudging her friend in the ribs.
Lady Alice Chivers, bell of nearly every ball they’d attended since they were old enough to lace up their first gowns, turned to her. Elizabet held her fan high enough to hide her mouth as she spoke.
“Who is that man over there? The large one who fills out those breeches so well.”
Alice looked with interest in the direction Elizabet indicated. “Ah yes. I see what you mean. That satin is no match for the strapping body it’s encasing, is it?” she asked with a giggle.
“Shh,” Elizabet warned, her eyes darting about for signs of her mother.
“Oh, have a little fun, Bess. You’ll have little enough of it once you’re wed, that’s for certain.”
Elizabet sighed. “That’s true enough.”
“Poor Bess.” Alice wrapped her arm around Elizabet’s waist and hugged her, her perfect brunette ringlets tickling Elizabet’s face. “You must be optimistic. Surely he can’t live for too much longer. And then you’ll be a rich widow, free to do whatever you please.”
>
“Alice!” Elizabet said, though she couldn’t hold back her laugh.
“Oh, you know you’ve thought it. And if you are too miserable in the meantime, perhaps a discreet dalliance with a sinfully handsome gentleman will cheer you.”
Alice nodded in the direction of the man Elizabet had indicated. “He certainly seems taken with you. I wouldn’t mind a bit of a distraction with him myself.”
Elizabet gaped at her and Alice winked. “That is Lord John Ramsay. Devilishly handsome, richer than Croesus with several sizable holdings including some godforsaken pile of rock in Scotland he inherited from his mother. Lucky for us, he prefers his English roots and stays mainly with the court. Very good friends with the king though not one to flaunt it. Too bad your parents couldn’t have made you a match with him.”
Elizabet sighed. “Like most eligible men in court, he’d have expected a decent dowry. Sir Robert was the only man of any substance willing to take me without one. He’s gained enough wealth from his previous three wives that he’s not too concerned with accumulating more. What he still hasn’t managed to get is a son. The only thing he’s interested in is a new wife young enough to get an heir on and pretty enough to make the deed enjoyable. At least according to my father.”
“Your father told you that?” Alice asked, horrified.
Elizabet nodded and Alice’s eyes flashed with fury. But before she could respond again, Lord Ramsay stood before them. He politely greeted Alice and then turned his full attention upon Elizabet. She gazed up the long, muscular length of him, her eyes finally meeting his. He bowed his head, his gaze hidden from her for a moment.
He was dressed as most of the men at court were. Silk hose and knee breeches covered legs that looked as strong as tree trunks. His waistcoat, shirt, and elaborate coat were of the finest material, embroidered and embellished until they gleamed under the light of the chandeliers. His curled wig lay over his shoulders, but there was no hint of powder or rouge on his face. Against fashion, maybe. But it suited him. Even in his finery he still managed to look rugged. Dangerous.
A Highwayman's Honor: (A Highland Highwayman Novella #1) Page 4
