The Gift (6 page)

The tavern owner's shout of anger mingled with Aunt Nora's gasp of fear. When she saw her niece draped over the stranger's shoulder her hand flew to her bosom.

"Is Sara hurt?" she cried out. Her mind was already picturing the worst.

Nathan shook his head. He opened the door of the carriage, then paused to grin at the old woman. "She fainted."

Nora was too relieved at that news to take exception to the fact that the man was amused over her niece's condition. She moved over to make room for Sara. Nathan placed his bride on the opposite seat, however. Nora gave her niece a quick once-over to make certain she was still breathing, then turned to look at their savior again. She watched him recoil the whip and hook it to his belt.

Nora hadn't expected him to join them inside the vehicle. When he did so she squeezed herself into the far corner. "Sara can sit next to me," she offered.

He didn't bother to answer her. He did, however, take up all the space across from her. Then he lifted Sara onto his lap. Nora noticed how very gentle he was when he touched her niece. His hand lingered on the side of Sara's cheek when he pressed her face into the crook of his neck. Sara let out a little sigh.

Nora didn't know what to make of the man. The carriage was in full motion before she tried to engage him in conversation.

"Young man, my name's Nora Bettleman. The dear lady you just saved is my niece. Her name is Sara Winchester."

"No," he said in a hard voice. "Her name is Lady St. James."

After making that emphatic statement he turned his gaze to the window. Nora continued to stare at him. The man had a nice, strong profile. "Why are you helping us?" she asked. "You won't convince me you're in the employ of the Winchester family," she added with a firm nod. "Could one of the St. James men have hired you?"

He didn't answer her. Nora let out a sigh before turning her attention to her niece. She wished Sara would hurry up and finish with her swoon so she could sort out the confusion.

"I've come to depend upon the child you're cradling in your arms, sir. I cannot abide the thought of anything ill happening to her."

"She isn't a child," he contradicted.

Nora smiled. "No, but I still consider her such," she admitted. "Sara's such an innocent, trusting soul. She takes after her mother's side of the family."

"You aren't a Winchester, are you?"

Nora was so pleased that he was finally conversing with her, she smiled again. "No," she answered. "I'm Sara's aunt on her mother's side. I was a Turner before I married my Johnny and took his name."

She glanced over to look at Sara again. "I don't believe she's ever fainted before. Of course, the last two weeks must have been a terrible strain on her. There are shadows under her eyes. She obviously hasn't been sleeping well. The worry about me, you see," she added with a little wheeze. "Still, she must have seen something quite frightening to make her swoon. What do you suppose…"

She quit her speculation when she caught his grin. The man was certainly on the peculiar side, for he smiled over the oddest remarks.

And then he explained himself. "She saw me."

Sara started to stir. She felt dizzy still, disoriented, yet wonderfully warm. She rubbed her nose against the heat, inhaled the clean, masculine scent, and let out a sigh of contentment.

"I do believe she's coming around," Nora whispered. "Thank the Lord."

Sara slowly tuny her gaze to her aunt "Coming around?" she asked with an unladylike yawn.

"You swooned, dear."

"I didn't," Sara whispered, clearly appalled. "I never faint. I…" She stopped her explanation when she realized she was sitting on someone's lap. Not someone, she realized. His lap. The color drained from her face. Memory was fully restored.

Nora reached over to pat her hand. "It's all right, Sara. This kind gentleman saved you."

"The one with the whip?" Sara whispered, praying she was wrong.

Nora nodded. "Yes, dear, the one with the whip. You must give him your appreciation, and for heaven's sake, Sara, don't faint again. I don't have my smelling salts with me."

Sara nodded. "I won't faint again," she said. To insure that promise she decided she'd better not look at him again. She tried to move off his lap without his noticing, but as soon as she started to scoot away he increased his grip around her waist.

She leaned forward just a little. "Who is he?" she whispered to Nora.

Her aunt lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "He hasn't told me yet," she explained. "Perhaps, dear—if you tell him how thankful you are—well, then he just might give us his name."

Sara knew it was rude to talk about the man as though he weren't even there. She braced herself before she slowly turned to look at his face. She deliberately stared at his chin when she said, "Thank you, sir, for coming to my defense inside the tavern. I shall be in your debt forever."

He nudged her chin up with his thumb. His gaze was inscrutable. "You owe me more than gratitude, Sara."

Her eyes widened in alarm. "You know who I am?"

"I told him, dear," Nora interjected.

"I don't have any coins left," Sara said then. "I used all I had to book passage for our journey. Are you taking us to the harbor?"

He nodded.

"I do have a gold chain, sir. Will that be payment enough?"

"No."

The abruptness in his answer irritated her. She gave him a disgruntled look for being so ungallant. "But I don't have anything more to offer you," she announced.

The hack came to a stop. Nathan opened the door. He moved with incredible speed for such a big man. He was outside the carriage and assisting Nora to the ground before Sara had straightened her gown. The man had all but tossed her into the corner of the hack.

His arms were suddenly around her waist again. Sara had only enough time to grab her reticule and her gloves before she was hauled out of the carriage like a sack of feed. He dared to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her up against his side. Sara immediately protested that liberty. "Sir, I happen to be a married woman. Do remove your arm. It isn't decent."

He obviously suffered from a hearing impairment, for he didn't even glance at her when she'd given that order. She was about to try again when he let out a piercing whistle. The moonlit area had been completely deserted until that moment. Within a blink of an eye she found herself completely surrounded by men.

Nathan's loyal crew stared at Sara. They acted as though they'd never seen a pretty woman before. He looked down at his bride to see how she was reacting to their stares of obvious adoration. Sara wasn't paying any attention to the men, though. She was occupied glaring up at him. Nathan almost smiled in reaction.

He gave her a quick squeeze to get her to quit her show of insolence, then turned his attention to the old woman. "Do you have any baggage?"

"Do we, Sara?" Nora asked.

Sara tried to shove herself away from her anchor before answering. "I told you I was a married woman," she muttered. "Now unhand me."

He didn't budge. She gave up. "Yes, Nora, we do have baggage. I borrowed some of my mother's things for you to wear. I'm certain she won't mind. Nicholas stored the bags at the Marshall storefront. Shall we go and claim them?"

She tried to take a step forward and found herself hauled up against the giant again.

Nathan found his man Jimbo in the back of the crowd and motioned to him. A tall, dark-skinned man walked over to stand in front of Sara. Her eyes widened at the sight of the near-giant. She stared at him a long minute, then came to the conclusion that he might have been attractive if it weren't for the odd-looking gold earring looped through his ear.

He must have felt her stare on him, for he suddenly turned his full attention on her. He folded his massive arms across his chest and gave her a good scowl.

She scowled back.

A sudden sparkle appeared in his midnight-dark eyes, and he gifted her with a full smile. She didn't know what to make of that strange behavior.

"Have two men see to the baggage, Jimbo," Nathan ordered. "We'll board the Seahawk at first light."

Sara couldn't help but notice that the Viking had included himself in her plans.

"My aunt and I will be perfectly safe now," she said. "These men seem to be… pleasant enough, sir. We've wasted enough of your valuable time."

Nathan continued to ignore her. He motioned to another man. When a thick-muscled though squat-framed older man came forward, Nathan nodded toward Nora. "Take care of the old woman, Matthew."

Nora let out a gasp. Sara thought it was because they were about to be separated from each other. Yet before she could argue with their unwanted protector Nora straightened her shoulders and slowly walked over to the enormous man.

"I'm not an old woman, sir, and I take grave exception to such an insult. I'm only one year past fifty, young man, and feeling as spry as can be."

Nathan's eyebrow rose a fraction, but he kept his smile contained. A strong gust of wind would topple the old woman, so frail did she appear to him to be, yet she had the tone of voice of a commander.

"You should apologize to my aunt," Sara said.

She turned back to her aunt before he had time to react to that statement. "I'm certain he didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Nora. He's just rude."

Nathan shook his head. The conversation was ridiculous to him. "Matthew, move," he ordered in a clipped voice.

Nora turned to the man hovering by her side. "And just where do you think you're taking me?"

In answer, Matthew lifted Nora into his arms.

"Put me down, you rascal."

"It's all right, lovey," Matthew replied. "You look a might peaked to me. You don't weigh more than a feather."

Nora was about to protest again. His next question changed her mind. "Where did you get those bruises? Give me the name of the bloody infidel, and I'll be happy to cut his throat for you."

Nora smiled at the man holding her. She judged his age to be near her own and had also noticed what a fit man he appeared to be. She hadn't blushed in years, yet she knew from the sudden heat in her cheeks that she was certainly blushing at that moment. "Thank you, sir," she stammered out as she patted the bun back into place on top of her head. "That is certainly a kind offer."

Sara was astonished by her aunt's behavior. Why, she was I fluttering her eyelashes and acting very like a flirt at her first I ball! She watched the pair until they were out of sight, then | noticed that the crowd of men had also vanished. She was suddenly all alone with her contrary savior.

"Is my Aunt Nora going to be safe with that man?" she demanded to know.

His answer was a low growl of obvious irritation. "Does one grunt mean yes or no?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered with a sigh when she poked him in his ribs.

"Please let me go."

He actually did as she asked. Sara was so surprised she nearly lost her balance. Perhaps, she decided, if she could maintain her pleasant tone of voice, she could get him to obey other commands. It was certainly worth a try.

"Am I going to be safe with you?"

He took his sweet time answering her. Sara turned until she was standing face-to-shoulders in front of him. The tips of her shoes touched the tips of his boots. "Please answer me," she whispered in a sweet, coaxing tone of voice.

He didn't seem to be impressed with her attempt to have a pleasant conversation. His exasperation, on the other hand, was evident. "Yes, Sara. You'll always be safe with me."

"But I don't want to be safe with you," she cried out. She realized how foolish that statement sounded as soon as the words were out of her mouth, and she hastily tried to correct herself. "What I mean to say is that I do always want to be safe. Everyone wants to be safe. Even villains…"

She stopped rambling when he grinned at her. "I want to be safe without you. You aren't planning to sail with Nora and me, are you? Why are you staring at me like that?"

He answered her first question and ignored her second one. "Yes, I'm sailing with you."

"Why?"

"I want to," he drawled. He decided to wait a little longer before giving her the particulars. Her cheeks were flushed again. Nathan couldn't decide if the cause was fear or temper.

His bride still had freckles on the bridge of her nose. He was pleased by that fact. It made him remember the little hellion he'd held in his arms. She wasn't a little girl any longer, though. She'd grown up quite nicely, too. She was, however, obviously still a bit of a hellion.

She actually nudged him in his chest to gain his attention again. "I'm sorry, sir, but you simply cannot travel with Nora and me," she announced. "You're going to have to find another boat. It wouldn't be safe for you to be on the same vessel with me."

That strange statement gained his full attention. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because my husband won't like it," she announced. She nodded when he looked incredulous, then continued. "Have you heard of the marquess of St. James? Oh, of course you have. Everyone knows about the Marquess. He's my husband, Viking, and he's going to pitch a fit when he finds out I'm traveling with a… protector. No, I'm afraid it won't do. Why are you smiling?"