Romancing the Earl (28 page)

Elijah thought that was probably “you’re welcome.” He turned to say good-bye to Berwyn and lost his balance as the boy hugged him. He said something in Welsh. Elijah ruffled his hair in response and when the boy stepped away, gave him a warm smile.

Elijah climbed astride his horse and led Cate from the alley. They made their way quietly down the street and out of the small town. He directed them toward the hills, which were in the opposite direction of their ultimate destination: Kentchurch in England. Leaving town via the wrong road was just one of the many techniques Elijah was using in order to avoid detection.

They rode in silence for quite a while, the cool night air enveloping them in a comfortable cocoon. At least that’s how Elijah felt. He’d loved being out at night in Australia. The sounds and scents were so different there. Here, he could smell the sea, which wasn’t too far off, and hear the faint signs of nocturnal creatures moving about their business. They were fortunate to be traveling in midsummer, when it wasn’t too cold, and just as lucky to have the moon guiding them.

“How long will we ride?” Cate’s voice broke into his thoughts. He hadn’t forgotten she was there. On the contrary, he’d been even more attuned to her presence. It seemed as though they could be the only two people in the world. He’d felt like that often in Australia, where the spaces were so open and the population so sparse.

“Until the moon starts to set.” He’d told her they’d sleep under the sky until morning, at which time they’d alter course and head toward England. To her credit, she’d not only accepted the hardship, she’d exhibited an enthusiasm for it, having never slept outside before.

More than an hour later, they came upon a stream. “Time to stop.” He heard her intake of breath and looked over at her to see her hand covering her yawning mouth.

She offered a weak smile. “Sorry. I’m glad to take a rest.”

He nodded, then scanned for a place to camp. The hills rose beyond the stream to their left, where the terrain grew increasingly uneven as it marched toward the Snowdon Mountains. To their right were low shrubbery and intermittent crops of rocks. He spotted a particularly large group that would shield them from the path and decided to make camp there. He led Cate and her mount to it and dismounted.

He helped Cate down, his hands encircling her waist as she pulled her leg over and slid to the ground. “Give me a moment to mask our departure from the road then I’ll water the horses, ” he said.
 

“What are you going to do?”

He plucked a branch from a shrub. “Cover our tracks.” He completed his task quickly and returned to Cate.

“I’ll go with you. I’d like to wash my face.” She looked at him with curiosity. “Is that all right?”

“It would be best if you could keep the disguise for now. Can you do that?”

She exhaled, but smiled at the end. “I can.”

He guided the horses to the stream, whispering gratitude and encouragement. When he returned to her a few minutes later, she immediately set about removing her horse’s saddle to grant the animal a rest.

Elijah marveled at her capability and initiative. “You know what you’re doing.”

“My parents made sure I was educated, regardless of my sex.”

He thought he might like her parents. Provided her father wasn’t a member of some secret organization who was likely behind Matthew’s death. Elijah dispelled the thought. He didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Let me know if you require assistance with the saddle once you have it loose.”

“Thank you.” She shot him a look that said she appreciated the offer.

Elijah saw to his own horse. When he was finished and had fed both animals from their packs, he pulled a flagon of ale from his saddlebag and took a long drink. He held it out to Cate, who took it and satisfied her own thirst.

Cate crossed her arms and rubbed her hands up and down her biceps as she studied the sky.

“Are you chilled?” Elijah asked. They had a light blanket, which he removed from the bag. He wrapped it around her shoulders, his fingers grazing her arms. The touch reminded him why he’d worked so diligently to keep her at a distance the past few days. Since Stratton Hall. Since they’d been so fortunately interrupted. Not that his body agreed. No, his body was quite frustrated with her proximity and the fact that he couldn’t finish what they’d started.

She looked up at him, her eyes nearly as dark as the night surrounding her. “Thank you.”
 

“I’m sorry about your face.” There were smudges in the grime, but she was still dirty. It did nothing to detract from her beauty—at least to him—or his desire for her. “Tomorrow night we’ll stop somewhere we can tidy up.” He hoped. There were few villages along their route, and they’d likely have to depend upon the kindness of a stranger. He glanced up at the sky. “We’re going to lose the moon shortly. Let’s find a place to sleep.”

“Together?” she asked.

“There’s only the one blanket, though I don’t really need it.”

“You don’t?”

“I’m accustomed to sleeping with just my coat for warmth, but then summer nights in Australia are warmer than summer nights in Wales.”

“Are they?” she asked with keen interest. “Tell me how else they’re different. You’ve seen and experienced so much that I never will.”

He heard the envy in her voice and felt a pang of regret for her. She was well aware of how her sex impacted her ability to enjoy certain experiences and it really wasn’t fair. He could see her enduring—enjoying, even—many activities that would be unseemly for a woman. He’d already seen her deal with highwaymen and an attack that had left her friend wounded. Yet, here she was, undaunted.

With a gentle—and quick—touch against her lower back, he guided her to the rocks and sat down with his back against one. “Sit with me.”

She sank to the ground beside him and pulled the blanket from her shoulders. Cozying up to him against the rock, she draped the cloth over them both. “For now,” she said, correctly guessing that he meant to protest.

He should insist she scoot away from him, but sharing body heat would be a necessity as the temperature dropped even further over the next few hours. He’d known they would have to sleep against each other, but he’d hoped she might slumber before he gathered her close. And potentially spent a sleepless night.

She settled next to him. “Tell me about Australia.”

He lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders and stopped himself before he could stroke her—or think about why the action came so naturally. “It’s very big. At least, it felt that way because there were so few people.”

“Did you meet any of the Aboriginals?”

“You know their name,” he marveled. “I shouldn’t be surprised, given your intellect.”

“Thank you. Tell me about the people.”

He chuckled softly, enjoying her enthusiasm. “Yes, I met some of them. They are people, just like us, with families and traditions. But they live quite differently. They hunt and gather their food. I learned to hunt as they do.”

She turned her head to look at him briefly. “You did? That must have been quite thrilling.”

“It was.” He recalled the time he spent with a young man from a nearby group. “Using a spear takes some getting used to.”

“A spear! I can see you wielding such a weapon. I’d already envisioned you as a fierce soldier. What else?”

He wanted to ask how else she’d envisioned him, but decided that path led to trouble. Particularly when he thought about the myriad ways he’d envisioned her. “The food is different. I miss the macadamia nuts.” He’d brought some on the voyage, but they were long gone. “And various fruits.”

Her eyes sparkled with interest. “What are they like?”

“Sweet and delicious.”
Like your mouth.
This was a potentially dangerous conversation. He wondered if there was such a thing as a safe conversation when he was nestled under the stars with the most alluring woman he’d ever known, and he grasped for something to fill the pause created by his errant mind. “The stars are different in the southern hemisphere.”

“Are they? I didn’t know that.”

“My favorite constellation is called the Southern Cross. It’s used in navigation in southern seas.”

“It’s so strange to think you were so far away. Did you miss England?”

“No.”

She turned in his arms and studied him for a moment. “You answered that very quickly. And definitively. You were happier away from here.”

He couldn’t lie. “I was.”

“You wish you could go back.” The words were spoken softly, but with an edge of disappointment.

“In some ways. In other ways, I look forward to being here.” He did? He’d resigned himself to his new role, even if he didn’t like it. But he realized he hadn’t really felt a purpose, a
drive
beyond fulfilling his duty. The army had taught him that nothing was more important than duty. And yet here he was, with Cate, and he felt as though he did have a purpose—finding this sword with her and avenging his brother’s death. Avenging? Did he really plan to punish the men who’d killed him? Perhaps not personally, but he would see them suffer for their crimes under the law.

“You do?” Her lips curved into a smile. “I’m glad. But I wish I could go back with you. What do you miss most about it?”

“My horse.”

She laughed. “I see. So it isn’t really about the place at all, but about what you feel a connection to. I’m encouraged by this revelation. You don’t seem particularly close to your mother, and with your father and brother gone, I wondered if you cared about anything or anyone. Save Wade. It’s clear he’s important to you and you to him.”

“You’re right about that,” he said quietly. Wade was about the only person he cared about. Until now. He looked into her eyes, lost the sense of time and place, felt her shift as she turned into him and laid her hand against his chest, leaned his head down . . .

He pulled back, knocking his head back against the rock.

Her face creased with concern. “Are you all right?” Her hand came up and cradled the back of his head.

A shock of lust so strong it nearly took his sight, slammed through him. “We should sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day of travel.”

She didn’t retract her hand. “How far will we get?”

“Not near enough to Kentchurch, but we’ll find a place to spend the night.” He reached up and took her hand from his head. “You mustn’t be so familiar.”

“It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” she asked with more than a dash of irony.

“No, it is not. By necessity, we must sleep close tonight, but do not take anything else from it. There will not be a repeat of what happened at Stratton Hall.”

She exhaled. It was a sound of longing and disappointment, and it nearly cut completely through his resolve. How he wished they could get to Kentchurch tomorrow. The sooner he deposited her with her parents, the better.

She shrugged out of her coat.

“What are you doing?”

“I’d like a pillow.”

He pulled the coat back up over her shoulders. “Use mine.” He removed his garment and folded it for her before laying it on the ground.

“Won’t you be cold?”

“No.” He was actually quite overheated at present and predicted it would be some time before he cooled.

She looked at him with doubt, but eventually stretched out on the ground. He took the blanket off his legs, though he’d been quite thankful for it as a shield a moment ago. He settled the cloth over her and she drew it up to her shoulders. “Aren’t you going to lie down?”

“Not yet. I will soon.”

She gave him a saucy look. “I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to.”

“Cate, for the love of God, please stop.”

“Why? Is there any reason we can’t pursue our mutual attraction? And don’t tell me you aren’t attracted to me.”

“I can list many reasons, the primary one being the fact that you’re a virgin.”

“Who said I was?”

Hell and the devil.
She wasn’t a virgin? He suspected that bounder Iscove was to blame. Elijah vowed in that moment to make hunting him down his very next project—as soon as he brought Matthew’s murderers to justice. “You shouldn’t say such provocative things—true or not.”

She sighed. “I am a virgin, unfortunately. And probably destined to die one since I doubt I shall marry.”

“You could marry.” She was intelligent, beautiful, and moneyed. She
ought
to marry, regardless of what she’d said to him the other day following the highwaymen’s attack.

She arched a dark brow, barely perceptible in the fading moonlight. “Why would I? My life is exactly as I like it right now. Save the fact that you won’t bed me.”

She really was trying to kill him. “Good night, Cate,” he practically growled.

“Good night, Elijah. Don’t hesitate to inform me if you’ve changed your mind.”

He couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge her audacity with an answer. But that didn’t stop his brain from conjuring all manner of ways in which to satisfy her curiosity. How in the hell was he going to endure the next few days in her company?

Chapter Fifteen