Unmask Me If You Can

by Shana Galen

  “I need to ask you for one more favor,” she said.

  “Ah, the one you mentioned last night?” He put one hand on the wall behind her. Before she would have felt trapped. He stood in front of the exit, and he blocked her way. But she liked the way he’d moved closer to her. She liked that his arm almost touched hers and that in angling his body this way, he shielded her from Richard’s view should he pass the open door.

  “Will you...if we go with you, we might need protection. I don’t know what will happen when Withernsea realizes I’ve returned. He may not care. If he does, I’ll decline to see him, of course, and I should be safe at my parents’ home, but...I should be safe except...before...my parents couldn’t...Withernsea took advantage—”

  “I’ll protect you,” Jasper said. “He won’t touch you or the boy.”

  “It’s a lot to ask. I’m sure you have other work, obligations.”

  “You’re not an obligation.”

  “Then what am I?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He bent to kiss her, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

  “Not with the mask on. I want to see you.”

  He reached up and loosened the ties in the back so the eye mask fell away. Olivia couldn’t have said why, but the act was incredibly arousing. When he reached for the silk that covered his forehead and hair, she grasped his hand, lowered it, and took hold of the silk herself. She drew it off slowly, revealing his dark gold hair. She dropped the mask to the floor and threaded her fingers through his hair, tangling her hands in the thick strands. She tugged his head down, and he went willingly. This time it was she who brushed her lips over his first. The second time she did so, he kissed her back, his lips meeting hers more insistently. The kiss was dizzying, and she moved closer to him just as he caught her about the waist and held her steady.

  This was where she wanted to be. Here. In his arms with the scent of the sea and clean straw and man all around her. She drew back and looked into his eyes.

  “Close your eyes,” he said, moving to kiss her again.

  “But I want to see you.”

  His look was one of disbelief. “No, you don’t.”

  “But I do. I like you much better without the mask.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “It’s true.” She slid her hand from his hair to his temple. He jerked back as she traced the worst of his scars. “Does it hurt?”

  “No, but don’t touch it.”

  “Why? It’s part of you. I like touching you.” She ran a hand over his shoulder and along his back. But he caught her hand before she could trace his scar again.

  “I give you leave to touch me anywhere else.”

  Her throat went dry. “Anywhere?”

  Instead of answering, he kissed her again. The kiss was deep, and she returned it. She didn’t even mind so much when he traced her lips with his tongue. She rather liked it this time. She even liked when he coaxed her lips open and licked inside her mouth. She touched his tongue tentatively with hers and felt his hand tighten on her waist. But he didn’t move to touch her elsewhere. Instead he allowed her to tease him with her mouth, to taste him, and trace his lips. But when he reciprocated, sliding his tongue between her lips, warring emotions swept over her. Part of her wanted more, panted for more, begged for more. And part of her couldn’t forget Withernsea’s invasion of her mouth.

  That part won, and she pulled back. “I’m sorry!” she stepped out of his arms. “I just...I can’t.”

  She moved toward the door, needing to get away, to escape her embarrassment.

  “No, I’m sorry,” he said, and his words stopped her.

  “You did nothing wrong.”

  “I did something you didn’t like. I made that same mistake yesterday.”

  She stared at him. She’d never met a man who so readily admitted fault, especially when he was not at fault.

  “I’ll probably keep making that same mistake, unless you tell me what I’m doing wrong.” His gaze on her was steady.

  “There’s no point in correcting it. We shouldn’t...meet like this anymore.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t, but just in case we do, enlighten me.”

  She didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know if she should even say it. How could she tell him?

  He took her hand and held it lightly. “Just tell me. What am I doing wrong?”

  She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “When you kiss me...”

  “You like it at first,” he said gently prodding.

  She nodded. “But when you...” She could feel her cheeks flaming. “With your tongue,” she whispered. “It reminds me of...something unpleasant.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Then we won’t kiss with tongues.”

  “We shouldn’t kiss at all. Richard could return at any moment.”

  Jasper nodded and released her. “He’ll play half the day, but if you don’t want to kiss me, I won’t argue.”

  She turned to leave the stable, pausing only because she’d forgotten to secure Clover in her stall. The mare was happily snoozing there as it was, but the door needed to be closed and locked. Jasper watched her complete the chore and as she walked past him, he said, “There are other things I can do with my tongue.”

  Olivia stumbled. “W-what did you say?”

  “You heard me.”

  She shook her head, but she wasn’t certain if she was denying she’d heard him or refusing his proposal.

  “You’re not even a little curious?”

  Oh, she was curious. She was terribly curious. Especially when just looking at him made her breath come short and her knees feel weak. “What sorts of things?” She felt wicked for asking.

  “I’ll show you.”

  That was a tempting offer, but she was not about to give in. Not yet.

  “I’d rather you tell me.”

  He blew out a breath, the first sign of frustration she’d seen in him. “If only I were Rafe.”

  “Who is Rafe?”

  “A friend of mine with a talent for words.” Jasper ran a hand through his hair, and she wondered if that was a gesture he’d made often before he wore the mask all the time. “Let’s see, what would I like to do to you with my tongue?”

  She caught her breath, but she didn’t walk away. She didn’t have to let him do it. She could just listen. He propped one shoulder against the wall of the stable and folded his arms across his chest. “If the skin on your neck is sensitive, I might use my tongue there. I could trace a path down to your collarbone.” His gaze roved where his tongue might, and even though her collarbone was covered by the modest dress she wore, she could almost feel his eyes and his tongue there. “And if that makes you shiver,” he continued, “I could make my way, slowly, to your ear lobe.”

  “My ear lobe?”

  He nodded. “I’m told the ear is one of the most sensitive parts of the body. Your ears are small and delicate. I think you might like it if I brushed my lips over them.”

  She couldn’t catch her breath now, and she knew he could see the way her breasts rose and fell with her rapid gasps. But his gaze didn’t flick to her chest. Instead he glanced at her hands, clasped tightly together. “I could push your sleeves up and bare your wrists.” He made this sound incredibly scandalous, though she rarely wore gloves and had long ceased to think of her wrists or hands as anything to protect. Now she looked down at her sleeve and imagined him pushing it up to reveal the pale skin beneath.

  “I would kiss you there, lightly, on the inside of your wrist where your pulse hammers. I’d like to taste your skin, press my mouth against that beating pulse, kiss a trail up your arm.”

  “No more,” she said, putting a hand to her heart. She feared it might jump from her chest if it beat any harder. “I don’t know this Rafe, but I’d say you have a facility of words equal to, if not better, than he.”

  “Then I’ve done what you asked.” He pushed off the wall. “Would you like me to show you now?”

&
nbsp; She should say no, but she’d never felt such longing before. She swallowed. “Maybe you could give me a small example to better illustrate.” Her cheeks went hot at her bold words.

  “I could do that. Perhaps I should close the door, so we’re not surprised.” He moved past her, almost brushing against her, to take hold of the large door and swing it shut. She readied herself for the darkness and then the feel of his body against hers, but it didn’t come. When she looked, he was bent by the side of the stable, examining the ground.

  “What is it?” she asked, following him outside.

  “Let me see your foot.” She raised her brows, but he waved a hand, indicating there was nothing sexual in the request. “I want to see your boot.”

  She lifted the hem of her dress slightly so he could see the worn half boots she wore.

  “Your feet are too small.”

  “For?”

  “To have made these prints.” She moved closer, examining the footprint in the mud next to the stable door. Several more led around to the side. They followed the prints to where they stopped at the window. Clover’s bowed head was clearly visible. Now Olivia’s heart hammered for another reason.

  “Those are too big for Richard. Are they yours?”

  He put his own booted foot beside the print. His foot was larger, the mark his boot made in the soft ground different. She stared at the ground then gasped. “Richard!”

  And without a word, she ran.

  JASPER FOLLOWED HER. He wanted to examine the prints more, trace the path whoever they belonged to had taken, but he had to make sure Olivia and Richard were safe. What if the man was still nearby?

  His legs were longer than Olivia’s, and he easily caught up with her. She knew the area better than he, so he allowed her to lead. She called Richard’s name several times, and it took only a moment for the boy to answer.

  “I’m here, Mama!”

  “Thank God!” She rushed toward the sound of the boy’s voice. Since the lad had sounded unconcerned, Jasper followed more slowly, looking for any signs the intruder might be watching and, though he wouldn’t admit it, catching his breath. His knife wound hurt like bloody hell from the exertion of running. If the intruder was still around, Jasper wouldn’t be much good in a fight if he didn’t conserve his energy.

  Ahead of him, Richard walked through the clearing, wielding a large stick like a sword, and his mother swept him up in her arms. The boy tolerated it in a way he wouldn’t in another year or so, and then she set him down and checked him from head to toe.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why isn’t Lord Jasper wearing his mask?”

  Jasper started. He’d completely forgotten the mask. And now he stood in the open, his scar openly on display. And yet the boy didn’t scream or run or even looked upset.

  He glanced at his mother then back at Jasper. “I like you without the mask. You don’t look as scary.”

  Jasper almost laughed. That was the last thing he’d expected the child to say.

  “Thank you.”

  Richard studied his mother again. “What is it, Mama?”

  “Nothing is wrong.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jasper, giving him a meaningful look.

  He nodded. He hadn’t planned to tell the boy of their fears. He might not have much experience with children, but he wasn’t an idiot.

  “I wanted to make certain you weren’t hurt. The ground is still slippery.”

  “It’s mostly dry, Mama.”

  Obviously, that was true. Whoever had made those footprints had managed to climb up here, a feat that wouldn’t have been possible even a couple of days ago.

  “Come play near the house,” she told him.

  “But Mama!”

  Jasper put his hand on the boy’s shoulder to soften his disappointment. “I’ll play knights and dragons with you.”

  “You will! Hoorah!”

  Olivia threw Jasper a grateful look. It almost made up for losing the opportunity to kiss her neck. “Richard, you fed Clover this morning and mucked out the stable?”

  “I did it all by myself!”

  “Did you notice anything unusual when you went into the stable?”

  “What’s unusual mean?”

  “Something that isn’t how it should be?” his mother clarified. “Something out of place?”

  “No.” He looked at Jasper again. “Can I wear your mask?”

  Jasper ruffled his hair. “No.”

  “Awww. Please?”

  “What about it the woods?” Olivia asked. “Was anything different in the woods?”

  “Why can’t I wear the mask? Can I just try it?”

  “Richard! I asked you a question.” They were in sight of the house now, and she paused and turned Richard to face her. “Was anything in the woods different?”

  He nodded. “Lots of tree limbs fell down.” He brandished the one he still held, and Jasper caught the end before it smacked him in the face. “And I found a puddle with tadpoles. You should come and see!”

  “I will,” Jasper said. “I’ll want you to show me later.” He looked at Olivia over Richard’s head. “Is there a way to reach the top of the cliff besides the trail?”

  “Not that I know of. That’s the only way we’ve ever taken. The southern side is surrounded by water and the northern side is too steep.”

  “Can we play knights and dragons now?” Richard asked impatiently.

  “Yes. Since you have the sword, I’ll be the dragon.” He pointed at Olivia. “Stay where I can see you.”

  Jasper tired Richard and himself out playing in the sun. But though he might have liked to nap with the boy after lunch, he made his way back to the stable to examine the footprints again. He’d left Olivia at the cottage, keeping watch, so he was surprised when she appeared a few minutes later. “I didn’t think you’d want to leave him alone.”

  “I don’t,” she whispered. “But I also want to know who has been skulking about my home. I set up a trap that will alert us if anyone goes in or out of the cottage.”

  Jasper looked up at her from where he kneeled beside the footprints. “You set up a trap?”

  She nodded. “I made it when Richard was about two and would sometimes get out of bed. I couldn’t always stay inside. I had laundry to collect or herbs to pick for dinner, so I would leave a pot filled with metal utensils above the door on the outside. A rope holds it in place, but if the door opens, the rope slackens and the pot turns over, dumping all the utensils on the stones outside the door. It makes an awful clatter.”

  Jasper considered. “We could have used you in the fight against Napoleon.”

  “England probably would have won much more quickly if women had been running the war.”

  Jasper smiled. She was so clever and confident, and she looked lovely with the sun glossing her dark curls. He wanted to kiss her, but now was definitely not the time. “It looks like whoever came up the trail made his way around the cottage and then to the stable. It doesn’t appear he went into the woods, and I think he left the same way he came. I can’t be certain. Richard and the two of us walked over much of the same ground. I’m a decent tracker, but it will take me time to piece it together. That time might be better spent packing to leave.”

  He saw the way her eyes went wide with fear. “When?”

  “At first light?”

  “That’s too soon.”

  “You told me you wanted to go to London.”

  “But I meant in a week or so. I’m not ready yet.”

  “That was fine when the only concern we had was one attack on me that might or might not be related to you. But at this point we have to assume we’ve been found. You and Richard have been found.”

  “You think whoever hurt you and made these footprints was hired by Withernsea?”

  Jasper stood and wiped his hands on his trousers, considering his next words carefully. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s the same man. It’s possible your parents hired another man to track you in
case I was unsuccessful, and the footprints are not made by the same man who attacked me.” The idea of it annoyed him, but he wasn’t ready to rule it out. “But we cannot rule out the possibility that whoever wounded me on the trail has come back or that he was sent by the duke.”

  She grabbed his arm, an action that surprised him because she’d so rarely initiated contact with him. “You think we could be in real danger?”

  “I don’t want to wait and find out. We leave in the morning, stopping in Penbury to arrange transportation to London.”

  “There’s a mail coach—” she began.

  He waved a hand. “The mail coach will be crowded and slow.” And the last thing he wanted was people gawking at him. “I’d like to arrive in London quickly and quietly. If we take the coach we either have to lie about who we are or else word will spread quickly you’re back. Even if we lie, there’s a good chance I’ll be recognized. Not that many men wear masks when not at a masquerade.”

  Her hand dropped and he quelled the impulse to take it in his own. “I don’t have the funds to afford a coach and four. It would cost...I don’t even know what it would cost to travel to London that way.”

  “I have coin enough.”

  Her brow furrowed, most likely because he hadn’t had any blunt on him when she’d found him. He’d left his belongings and his money at Penbury’s inn. He could retrieve them and if he needed more blunt he’d whisper a few names and receive credit easily enough. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle the travel. That will be the easy part.”

  She sighed and glanced back toward the cottage. “What should I tell him? This is the only home he remembers. Do I lie and say we’ll be back? Do I tell him about his father? How do I explain why I’ve been hiding all these years?”

  “I don’t have those answers.” He hardly knew what to say to the boy at any given moment. “Whatever you say will be right.”

  “That isn’t very helpful.”

  He shrugged. “I’m more concerned he’ll tell everyone he meets every detail about us. I’ll try to avoid public places, but we won’t be able to stay away from people entirely. We’ll need to pretend you are someone else.”

  “Your wife?”

  Jasper shook his head. That would have been an easy ruse if he wasn’t so recognizable. There were times when being a scarred war hero and the son of a marquess did not work in one’s favor. “Let’s say you’re the widow of one of my fellow soldiers.” He thought of the men he served with. “You’ll be Mrs. Peter Collins.”