A Reckless Runaway

by Jess Michaels

  She took the knife and smiled. “It does.”

  She turned away and he remained on his feet, watching her, waiting to see if she would return to the more uncomfortable conversation about her arranged marriage and how that had brought her to Ellis. She threw the next knife, hitting the target on the second ring.

  “You asked about my father,” she said, taking the next blade without meeting his gaze. “There could never be a way to turn him from what he thought would benefit him. My sisters and I are tools to him, nothing more.”

  “So how did Ellis come into the picture?” he asked.

  The next knife hurtled from her fingers and she shook her head as it landed far short of the tree. She flexed her arms and stretched her fingers, but didn’t return to take the next blade. She stood there, staring out at the tree even though he doubted she saw it now. Memory seemed to take her over, unpleasant or pleasant.

  “It was a ball to celebrate our union in my future husband’s country seat,” she said softly. “I stepped outside on the terrace, and there Ellis was. Like he was waiting for me. Or like I’d been waiting for him. I thought that at the time, that it was some kind of destiny that had brought us together. I suppose that was how I justified it to myself. He was…charming.”

  Rook pursed his lips, tamping down the jealousy again. “He can be that.”

  “He was what I’d pictured a man should be.”

  “Handsome,” Rook provided, thinking of his cousin’s nickname and how he’d learned to use his looks to his advantage when it came to women and grifting.

  She shrugged. “Yes, that. But it was more that he saw me, if that makes sense. He seemed to like me for myself. He laughed at my quips—my fiancé never did that. And he offered this idea of adventure and romance and freedom that…well, it was all very attractive to me. It also felt like my only escape hatch.”

  She snatched another blade and threw it, wincing as it pinged off the tree and bounced into the sandy grass at their feet.

  “I doubted it,” she whispered. “Doubted him in my darkest moments when I was alone. But I still thought he was the better choice. The—the only choice.”

  Rook hesitated. He had never betrayed his cousin, not in all the years they had run together. Not even when he’d been against Ellis’s decisions. But now, looking at the young woman beside him, he wanted so much to help her. To make her understand that this wasn’t her fault.

  He wanted to comfort her. And the truth was the only way to do that.

  He cleared his throat. “You cannot be blamed. He made himself look that way, by design, I would assume.”

  She looked at him in confusion and, he thought, a little defensiveness. “By design? That would imply he had an ulterior motive. What do you think it was?”

  “He approached you, didn’t he? On that terrace you talked about. He came to you, probably from the shadows. He was mysterious. He asked about you, focused on you.”

  Her lips parted and her eyes went wide as saucers. “I-it is like you were there.”

  “Because I was there many times, when he did it before, even though I wasn’t that night.” He moved toward her a long step. “Anne, you must understand something and I don’t say it to hurt you. My cousin is a trickster, a liar. What he did to you…he’s done it a dozen times or more before. It’s his trade.”

  She stepped back, staring at him both as if she didn’t comprehend what he meant and as if she very much did and wanted to unhear the bell he’d rung in her head. “I don’t understand.”

  He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. Ellis grew up very…rough. We weren’t part of your world, but one far beneath yours. We had to learn to survive on the streets by any means necessary. For Ellis…for me…that meant crime.”

  She gasped and the color left her cheeks. “Crime?”

  “Petty things, mostly. Pickpocketing, stealing.” He shook his head as he thought of Ellis teaching him that trade, telling him his six-year-old hands were smaller so he could do it better. “Worse as we grew older. Ellis realized in his teens that his handsome face could get him more if he played at seduction. Games of love, he called them, meant to divorce a lady or her family from their purse.”

  Now she went from pale to green and she staggered slightly. He caught her elbow, supporting her so she didn’t collapse. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and filled with unshed tears. Her lower lip trembling. She was so very lovely. And now she was broken. Because of Ellis. Because of him.

  This was why he’d left that life. This and a great deal more. And yet here he was.

  She bent her head. “I am such a fool,” she whispered.

  He caught his breath and slid his fingers beneath her chin. Slowly, he tilted her face up and drew her a little closer, until her skirts tangled against his boots. Until he could feel her breath stirring his chin.

  “Anne,” he said, his voice rough. “You are not the fool. He is.”

  Her tears cleared with those words, replaced by something else in her stare that he didn’t want to focus on. Shouldn’t focus on. But couldn’t look away from. Her hand lifted and shook as she rested it on his chest.

  She licked her lips and he was lost. Need poured through him, rough and dirty and dangerous as any weapon he’d ever held. He wanted her to distraction and he knew that once he touched her, he would burn her to the ground, first with pleasure…but inevitably with pain.

  And yet he still wanted to kiss her. Just a taste. Just a moment they could both pretend to forget later. He found his mouth lowering toward hers, felt her shift as she arched up to meet him.

  But just before their lips met, the misting rain that had been falling off and on around them all morning turned to something heavier. It doused them both in a sheet of frigidity and he gasped as he stepped away, reminded by nature that this woman was not his.

  She stared up at him, eyes wide, unblinking, still heavy with desire and perhaps some disappointment that they hadn’t finished what he started.

  He stepped away so he wouldn’t dare to do it despite the rain.

  “You may keep throwing the knives or go inside out of the cold,” he muttered. “I ought to…to check on some things in case the storm grows worse.”

  He inclined his head and paced away without a backward glance. He didn’t need one. The image of her was burned on his mind now and he feared it would never go away. Nor would the regrets that he hadn’t done exactly what his worst impulses demanded.

  Anne stirred the fire she had been tending for the past few hours and tried not to look at the door behind her for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. Staring at it since sundown hadn’t brought Rook in from the cold. It wasn’t going to make him return any faster.

  Not that she was certain how to proceed once he did come back. How did one manage a man who had looked like he wanted to kiss her? Devour her? Then he’d just walked away. How did one manage the only person on this earth who knew how badly she had been used and discarded…and yet told her that her foolishness wasn’t her own fault?

  The door behind her creaked as it opened, and she spun from the fire to watch Rook step inside, removing his soaking wet hat and hanging it up before he followed with his coat. He ran a hand through his messy hair and cast his glance over to her. He looked disinterested. Like the man who’d nearly kissed her in the woods had never existed.

  Probably better for her and she ignored the sting his disregard caused.

  “Would you like something to eat?” she asked. “I warmed up the remainder of that broth from earlier today, and there’s bread.”

  His brows lifted in what seemed like surprise. He nodded once. “Yes. Let me dry off a bit, though.”

  He moved toward her at the fire and she skittered back, giving him space. Giving herself the same because she wasn’t certain if she would launch herself at him or not if he got too close. Rejection was something she’d become very familiar with lately. She didn’t want more of it from him.

  She cleared her throat as she paced
across the little sitting room, worrying the blanket draped on the back of the settee. “I’ve been thinking,” she began, wishing that her voice were more certain.

  He didn’t answer but continued to rub his hands together before the fire. So the grunting hulk had returned. Well, that was probably better.

  “I-I need to go home,” she continued.

  His hands stopped moving and he slowly faced her. “To England?” he said.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  He shrugged. “I suppose that is for the best considering that we’ve determined my lout of a cousin doesn’t have true intentions toward you.”

  She flinched. “But I-I can’t go alone. I’ve learned how useless I am by coming here, so I realize I wouldn’t even know how to go about it safely. It’s only a day or two, isn’t it? Such a small period out of your life? Please, won’t you help me?”

  His eyes went wide and he stared at her for what seemed like forever. “Anne—” he began at last.

  She rushed forward. “Please, I know you’ve been dragged into this enough as it is. I know it isn’t fair to ask you when you never wanted me here in the first place. But there will be money for you if you do this.”

  She hesitated, for she didn’t know if that was the truth. Her father could have cut her off for all she knew, or would the moment he saw her. Running away with a man, that was ruin, whether Ellis had ever touched her or not. It was a consequence that would destroy her as punishment for her recklessness.

  Still, she had to hope she could convince her father to pay for her return. If only to reduce the scandal by some portion.

  He shook his head. “It isn’t about the money, Anne. But you said it’s only a day or two, and that’s not true.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “The boat ride across the sea only took five or six hours. And the ride back to the earl’s estate a few more. It cannot be more than two days to get from here to where I need to go. Or even just to Beckfoot. I might be able to reach my father from there and you could return to your life here.”

  He pursed his lips. “We cannot take the boat.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  He motioned toward the rain that lashed the windows outside. “It has been raining off and on for days, sometimes heavily. The passage would be much more dangerous now, something even the larger, more steady boat couldn’t do. And even if we could contact that captain and convince him to brave the weather, he wouldn’t take us. We stiffed him on payment when we came in to the island. I’m certain he’s told every seafarer on the closest mainland cities not to give me passage anywhere.”

  Her lips parted. “Why did you not pay him when he…” She trailed off as the answer to the question became clear. “Ellis?”

  He nodded. “My cousin lied to me and said he paid for both ways of passage in order to protect you, but—”

  “But he never truly cared if I was protected,” she finished with a shake of her head. “And you were left with all the worst consequences of that.”

  He shrugged. “Not all worst, I promise you.”

  She glanced at him. He was trying to comfort her, she thought. But knowing he hadn’t hated having her here didn’t make things better. It only made her think of things she knew she couldn’t have.

  “What about your boat?” she pressed. “I saw it on the dock.”

  “It’s tiny,” he said softly. “Only meant to ferry me back and forth to the mainland for supplies every so often. Not to make a longer trip across a wild sea.”

  She scrubbed a hand across her face. “So if we were to do this, we’d have to go to the mainland with your smaller boat. And travel to England by land,” she said softly.

  “Yes. It would be a long trip, a long time on the road together. There would be…” He turned his face and his voice grew rougher. “There would be consequences.”

  “Like—like what?”

  He drew a long breath. “We’d have to stay at inns at night. For your safety, we’d have to pose as a married couple.”

  She stared at him as what he was suggesting became clear. “You mean we’d be expected to share a room.”

  His gaze found hers, held there, heat and regret all at once again. “Once we did that, whatever is left of your reputation would be gone.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, blinking at the tears that filled her eyes. Tears because she knew he was correct. Only her reputation had been gone since the moment she stepped into Ellis’s phaeton what felt like a lifetime ago. And being alone with Rook didn’t seem like the worst thing, despite being a terrible temptation she shouldn’t want so much to face.

  He watched her face closely, as if he were trying to read her thoughts. At last he folded his arms. “I wouldn’t pursue you, Anne. I hope I’ve proven you aren’t in danger from me during the last week.” He shook his head. “I just need you to understand what you would be facing if we make our way toward your family together.”

  “What would the alternative be?” she asked.

  “Trying to get a message to your father or your former fiancé, I suppose,” he said. “Which could take just as long to reach them from here. And then hope they would come here or to the village on the Scotland side of the mainland and fetch you.”

  She shivered at the idea of waiting so long without any guarantee she would be found or fetched.

  “Think about it,” he said softly. “Now, why don’t we have that supper you warmed?”

  She flinched. “Just the idea of eating a bite makes my stomach turn right now. I think I’ll just go to my room and do exactly what you suggested. Think.”

  He nodded. “Very well. Good night.”

  She repeated the same and slipped to the bedchamber. There she paused and watched him go toward the kitchen with that certain, long stride she had come to know so well from watching him since her arrival.

  She stepped into the bedchamber and shut the door, leaning against it as she closed her eyes with a heavy, shaky sigh. The problem she faced about traveling with Rook wasn’t that she feared he would take advantage of her. It was that she thrilled at the idea of being alone with him in a small room at an inn every night. She thrilled at the idea of being confined in a carriage at his side.

  She thrilled at the idea of pretending they were married.

  And the kind of person those feelings made her was…well, she had to face that as much as the consequences of her actions if she said yes. If she wanted to go home, she had to face what she desired and figure out if she could control it as easily as the man in the other room seemed to be able to do.

  Chapter 8

  Rook bent to tug his boot up over his calf. The fire had burned low during the night and there was a chill to the air in the main room. He was about to get up and add a few logs to make the room brighter when the door to the bedchamber opened.

  Anne stood there for a moment, watching him with those green eyes that were like emeralds he wanted to steal. She reached behind her and drew out her small bag, and his heart somehow soared and sank at the same time.

  “I know there will be many difficulties,” she said softly. “But I also know I need to get back to my family. And since I put myself in this mess with my own bad decisions, I must try to make it right somehow. If you’re willing to help me, I’d like to take the mainland route together. At least to Gretna Green, where I can probably find a way home on my own.”

  Rook took in her face in the dim light of the early morning that filtered through the windows. Her shoulders were thrust back, her hands clutching the bag at her side. Her gaze might be a little uncertain, but it was also strong. And in that moment he knew how much trouble he was in. He could try to pretend it away all he liked, but he wanted this woman. He wanted to strip her naked and teach her to beg for his tongue. He wanted to bury himself deep inside of her and feel her fingers dig into his back. He wanted to taste her release, watch it flow across her features, feel it ripple around his cock.

  He wanted all those things and more, and it was going
to be harder than ever to ignore those desires when they were in the close quarters travel required.

  “Give me a moment to gather some things,” he said, breaking the hold of their gaze with difficulty. “We can leave straight away.”

  She stepped aside and allowed him to pass by her into the bedchamber. He gathered a few items for the road in a small bag, including a stash of blunt he had hidden in the floorboards. He sighed as he counted it. There was enough here to get them where they needed to go, but little extra. It was too late to dig out more of his hidden reserves off the island. It would be a lean trip.

  When he exited the room, she was no longer in the main living space, though her bag was by the door. He left his beside it and went into the kitchen. He found her standing at the table there, gathering apples, bread and cheese, which she wrapped up.

  He lifted his brows as she looked at him with a weak smile. “I thought we might need food on the road.”

  He nodded, though he was shocked she would think of such a thing. In the week she’d been on his island, she had certainly taken on more than she’d likely ever considered in her life in Society.

  He took the food and placed the packet carefully into his inside pocket, then motioned her to the door. They exited the cottage into the cold morning air, made darker by the clouds rolling in toward them. He frowned in the direction of the coming storm. Still, there was no choice, this was the path now. She followed him not to the dock where they had come in from England a week before, but to the opposite side of the island, where he had another boat tied to a stake buried deep in the sand.

  He loaded it before he glanced back at the approaching clouds. “If we go now, we may get ahead of that storm. Though I warn you, it might not be steady sailing.”

  She nodded, but he could see the green enter her pallor even before he took her hand and helped her into the tiny craft. She situated herself in the back of the boat to create stability and he took his place at the oars. With a quick push they were off, and he angled them in the right direction, toward the shores of Scotland, which they could already see on the faint horizon.