by Wendy Vella
He focused on her, remembering her lush breast in his hand and the feel of her sweet lips under his. She was an innocent, Ben knew that, but she’d been responsive and eager.
Was she safe?
Surely by now she’d reached help and sent word to his brothers.
Please be safe.
He heard the handle on the coach door. It wasn’t a decisive movement. Squinting in the darkness, he saw the door open a crack. The small hand that reached inside landed on his face, one finger nearly dislodging his eye.
Christ!
The hand moved to his mouth and pulled out the rag that Sanders had stuffed in there, and Ben took a deep breath.
He knew he couldn’t speak, just as she did. Instead he watched her slip through the door and into the carriage. Ben bit back a grunt as she kicked his head climbing over him onto the seat.
“Ben!”
Leaning over, she placed a hand on his chest. His eyes must be shooting flames as she looked into them.
“Hurry up!” he mouthed.
Something in his gaze had her scurrying down the seat.
“Slowly,” Ben hissed.
She did as he asked, and the coach didn’t sway, thank God. He felt her hands tugging at the rope that bound his ankles. Her little hiss of frustration had him tensing, but no one heard.
He was going to kill her. Wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. What the hell did she think she was doing, taking such a risk? Bloody little fool; if anyone looked in or came to check on him, they’d both end up in trouble. She could be captured and harmed. The thought made his blood run cold.
She finally undid his feet. Ben rolled, and she started on his hands. The pain of blood moving into his feet had his teeth gritting. Pins and needles followed.
He was too scared to acknowledge her bravery. Terrified, angry; so many emotions chased through him that they nearly choked him as he silently urged her to hurry.
His hands were harder for her, as he’d been constantly working on them and had likely tightened the knots. She hissed, and he could hear the rasp of her breath as she struggled.
“Get me out,” he whispered after a few more tense minutes.
“Your hands?”
“Later. We need to move now.”
She kicked him in the ribs as she tried to scramble out of the carriage. Ben bit back another grunt of pain.
He sat upright as she opened the door, then with a series of maneuvers, managed to swing his legs so they were out the door. Sliding out, he motioned to her to close it behind him.
“Move,” he whispered into her ear.
She ran into the darkness with him following. Ben struggled to coordinate his movements with his hands tied behind his back, especially as his feet were struggling to work. His balance was off, and he was listing from side to side, but he managed to keep up.
There were plenty of buildings frequented by people they could go into, but he wanted somewhere private. He needed to get his hands free so he could strangle Primrose.
Ben took the lead and circled a tavern. Slowing to a walk, he crept along the rear wall.
“We need something to free my hands.”
“Right.” Primrose started looking about her as if something would magically appear.
“A knife,” he said in a sharp tone.
“Right,” she said again, still looking.
“A sharp one.”
Her eyes fell on the back door of the tavern, and before he could stop her, she’d ducked inside.
“God’s blood!” Ben followed but did not enter. If she screamed, he be in there in seconds. Seconds later she came out.
“I didn’t mean for you to simply walk in there!”
“I have a knife. I took it off the bench. It was just sitting there, and no one was looking.”
He grunted something, not willing to concede how well she’d done. Anger was still riding him.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Just cut the rope, Primrose.”
She did, sawing gently through it. She only nicked him once.
“I’m sorry!”
“It’s fine. Let’s go.” Clenching and unclenching his fingers, he then shook them hard to get the circulation moving. Grabbing the knife in one hand, he took her fingers in the other, securing them inside his in case she disappeared again.
“Where?”
“Be quiet.”
“Oh, well I just—”
He placed his hand over her mouth, then leaned down until their eyes met.
“Not one more word, do you understand?” Smart girl that she was, she nodded.
They moved around the front to the tavern and walked beside the buildings and shop fronts down the street until he thought they’d put enough distance between themselves and Sanders. Ben doubted he would stray far from the carriage while he was supposedly still inside.
“Look!” She nudged him in his sore ribs again. He sucked in a deep breath.
“What?” he snapped.
“A sign, they have rooms for let.”
Ben pushed the knife into his boot and tugged her hand, perhaps a little harder than necessary, and soon they were walking up the steps and into the white weatherboard house.
“Good evening.”
A woman was knitting behind the reception desk.
“We would like a room, please.”
She looked him over, taking in the fact he had no necktie or jacket, and then Primrose, who looked rumpled. Her hair was down, and her dress torn.
“We had an accident. Our horses bolted, scared by a-a bunch of grouse which we unsettled. The carriage wheel broke, and it rolled onto its side. We’ve had to walk a great distance, and I fear we are very hungry.”
Ben glared Primrose into silence as she finished speaking. God’s blood, the woman would surely not be fooled by such a ridiculous tale.
“Oh, my dear, how awful for you. But at least you are not injured.”
“No indeed, we all escaped unscathed,” Primrose continued.
“Well, you and your husband have no need to worry, we have a room that will suit you for the night. Are you to sail in the morning?”
Primrose nodded. “We are. Hopefully our driver will have the carriage fixed by then and arrive with our luggage.”
“You’ll be comfortable here until morning, I can assure you of that.”
“Oh, how very kind of you.”
Ben was sure there was smoke coming from his ears. His rage was an unreasonable inferno and rising by the second.
“We’ll need half the money up front, you understand. We’ve had a few scoundrels leave without paying their bill,” the woman said.
“No. Really? That’s shocking,” Primrose replied, appearing ready to settle in for a nice long chat.
“Here.” Taking the small purse he carried around his neck out, he handed over some notes, and a few more to keep her from asking any questions.
“I want food and a bath. Is there anywhere we can get some clothing?”
The woman nodded, happy to do anything he wanted. “I’ll see to it. Your lovely wife is about the size of my daughter.”
“This is indeed kind of you, and of course we will be happy to pay. You have a lovely establishment here,” Primrose said.
Ben was fairly sure the top of his head would explode if he didn’t get Primrose up those stairs and into the room. He would have plenty to say to her then. First, he had to get her to shut her mouth!
“Right, if you’ll follow me, please.” The woman took one look at Ben’s face and hustled around the desk.
They followed her up the stairs and into a room. It looked clean enough, and the bed somewhere he could sleep for a week and half, which was what his body was craving.
“I’ll send someone up with your bath, food, and those clothes,”
Ben shut the door behind the woman with a decisive snap. Turning, he noted that Primrose had placed herself on the other side of the bed. Her eyes were suddenly wary. Perhaps she had
noted his mood after all.
“What the hell did you think you were doing!”
Chapter Twenty-Five
She tried not to wince at the roar. Primrose had felt his anger from the minute she opened the carriage door to find him lying on the floor.
“When?” She played for time.
“Primrose—”
“I couldn’t let them hurt you,” she rushed to add.
“How the hell did you follow us?”
The words were fired at her like bullets from a gun. Primrose dug her toes into her shoes to keep from retreating as he stalked closer.
“I… ah, I climbed on the back like you did.”
“You did what?”
This time his voice didn’t rise but stayed dangerously low. She winced.
“You bloody fool. Do you have any idea what could have happened? Why didn’t you go for help?”
“I couldn’t let them take you away, because then we wouldn’t know where you were.”
The words sounded rational to Primrose. Rational and completely the right thing to do, she reassured herself.
“Christ!” The word was an angry hiss. “You should not have taken that risk. The entire journey, all I could think about was that you were now safe, and yet you weren’t. You spent it on the back of the coach!”
“I did what I thought was right!” Primrose felt the heat of her own anger take hold. “I did what you did… felt you needed to do.”
“You took a foolish risk and could have been hurt. They could have captured you again! You could have tumbled from your perch and no one would have known!”
He prowled toward her, looking like a large beast seeking vengeance. His eye was darkening, and she found other bruises on his jaw. Dark hair stood off his head, and he was many miles away from the nobleman she had come to know… had thought she knew.
This man was bordering on a feral beast. Primrose should be scared.
“I did what I thought was right.” She raised her chin. “You rescued me, and I rescued you.”
“So we’re even?” he scoffed. “This is not a game, Primrose. These people would kill you in a heartbeat to get what they want.”
“I’m not a fool, so don’t treat me like one. I did what I thought was right,” she said again. “You may be stronger and a man. Therefore, in your opinion it was your responsibility to keep me safe. But I didn’t see it that way. I wanted to ensure you w-were safe too.”
“Don’t cry.” His words were flat and cold.
“I’m not, I’m angry.”
“So am I, but you don’t see me crying. Tears don’t affect me like they do other men… especially when a woman uses them for emotional manipulation.”
The injustice of his words robbed Primrose of speech. Luckily, it was only a momentary condition.
“How dare you suggest my tears are not real! I don’t know what women you’ve been associating with, but I assure you these are real.” Primrose swiped a finger under one eye and waved the damp appendage at him.
He looked at her then. A long, hard stare, and then his lips twitched.
“Your nostrils are flaring.”
“That’s because I’m bloody furious,” Primrose snapped. “My brother used to run for the hills when he saw me in this state!”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“And I’m not scared of you.” Primrose braced her hands on her hips, defiant.
“You should be,” he muttered, closing the distance between them completely. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her to his body.
“Thank you for rescuing me.” He whispered the words into her hair. “I’m sorry if my words upset you.”
“Your words told me that you have a deep-seated mistrust of women. Is that the fear you would not share with me?”
“No.”
Primrose was sure he was lying, and the sudden tension in his arms suggested she was right.
“Is it because of your mother?”
“No.” Cold and hard, that one word told Primrose she’d touched a nerve. But now was not the time to pursue the matter further, and to be honest, she was too tired. Standing here in his arms was the first moment’s peace she’d had since he’d been captured.
“I still wish you’d run away to safety, Primrose.”
She rested against him, placing her head on his shoulder and simply enjoying the feel of his strength around her. Slipping her hands around his waist, she felt all the tension and fear finally ease.
“I’m tired.”
“Me too,” Primrose agreed.
“We will eat, then bathe. But first I’m going to find out what I can about when Sanders is leaving. He’s getting a boat to France, I’m sure of it. And it’s there he’ll hand over the book.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.” He cupped her cheeks. “And not because I’m trying to protect you. Okay, maybe there’s some of that. But it will be easier for me to get information if I am alone. I also want to send word to my brothers. So please stay here, Primrose.”
“But what if they see you?”
“They won’t. But if I am not back in an hour, then you can come looking for me. This time I give you permission, because let’s face it, there’s no one here to stop you.”
She nodded.
He kissed her softly, then released her.
“I will be back soon, I promise.”
Primrose felt ill as she watched him walk to the door.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?”
“No.”
“But—”
“No. Now be a good girl and stay out of trouble.” His smile was gentle.
“Mr. Sanders said I was a busybody,” Primrose blurted. For some reason, those words had hurt her.
“You are, but in a very nice way.” He opened the door, but stopped before stepping through. “By the way, I like a woman with opinions.”
He shut the door gently behind him, leaving Primrose to wonder what that actually meant. She was never one to just accept a comment, she had to chew on it, tear it apart, and then usually reform it into something completely different. She wasn’t a confident person no matter the persona she portrayed.
A knock on the door a few minutes later had her hurrying to open it. A maid stood there.
“I have a tray of food, and the bath is following, Madam.”
“Thank you.” Primrose pressed a hand to her stomach as it rumbled. The food she’d eaten seemed a long time ago now.
He will return.
“I have some clothes for you and the gentleman, ma’am,” the maid said. “I’ll leave them on the bed.”
“Thank you.”
When she’d left and the tub was filled with steaming water, courtesy of a footman, Primrose decided on a wash first. Stripping, she climbed in and sighed. The water felt so good. She scrubbed herself and washed her hair with the coarse soap provided. Once she was done, she dressed in the chemise left by the maid. It was too big, but clean. Wrapping a blanket from the bed around her, she ate.
Leaving a healthy portion for Benjamin, Primrose pulled a chair up to the window and sat to wait.
She woke as someone lifted her.
“Benjamin?”
“Yes, sleep now.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Sanders is not leaving until the morning.”
“Oh, that’s good news. We can still get the book back.”
He didn’t reply, just laid her on the bed.
“Sleep.”
She closed her eyes, but did not go back to sleep. Primrose heard him move around the room, then the splash of water as he washed. Cracking her eyes open, she saw broad shoulders and arms corded with muscle. The candlelight cast him in a golden glow.
She should be shocked but wasn’t. What she was, was intrigued. She’d never seen a naked man before. Not that she could see all of him, but what she saw was beautiful, sculpted muscle beneath golden expanses of skin.
He washed
himself, then threw water over his head, and it cascaded down his body. Her mouth went dry. When he started to rise, she closed her eyes. She was only so brave.
“You can open your eyes now, I have my breeches on.”
“How did you know I wasn’t sleeping?”
“Your breathing.”
Rolling onto her back, Primrose grabbed the blanket and sat upright against the headboard.
“Thank you for leaving me some food.”
“I could not eat all that.”
“I could have.”
“Shall I call for more?”
He shook his head. “This will do for now.”
The shirt was loose and too big on him. It billowed around his body, open at the throat. She thought he looked like a pirate.
“What happens now, Benjamin?”
“We need to get you back to Rossetter . I have sent word to my brothers, explaining what happened and that I have just found you now.”
“Because otherwise people will think I have been in your company… alone?”
He placed the last of the meat into his mouth, then lowered the fork. Getting to his feet, he came to sit on the other side of the bed beside her.
“I wanted to save your reputation.”
“Thank you.”
“Primrose, what happened between us should not have. But no one will ever know.”
I will know.
“Of course. I have no wish for you to in any way be forced to do something you do not wish.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that I know you are an honorable man, and should someone challenge my reputation I would not want you to have to step in.”
Before he spoke, she hurried on.
“Besides, I am to go back to Pickford. If my reputation were ruined, it would be of no consequence.”
His brows drew together. “It would be of consequence to me.”
She didn’t know how to answer that, so she ignored it. “Will we contact the authorities in the morning to help us retrieve the book?”
