The Highwayman (Rakes and Rogues of the Restoration Book 3) (33 page)

Jack drew her to him so her arms were wrapped around him and her head was pillowed on his chest. “I will accept your apology, if you will accept mine. It wasn’t just a dance. Even if I didn’t know it was your first, it was our first dance together. I shouldn’t have let anything intrude. I regretted it. I still do. Perhaps you’ll let me make it up to you some day. The things I said to you were said in anger. You are nothing like the people I described and I knew it. I used my anger at others to justify my frustration with you, even though I knew I was in the wrong. It’s not a place I ever like to be.”

She smiled and kissed his chest. “I am sure it is a very rare occurrence.”

He grinned and mussed her hair. “The thing that really hurt was the note you left. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Oh, Jack! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean it. Not at all. They were foolish words. It’s easy to think them in the heat of an argument, but once written, so very hard to take back. I was wondering how to do so all the way home. I was overjoyed to see you. And not because of the danger. It was as though I had a chance to make it right again. I’d be desperately unhappy if you stayed away.” She laid several light kisses along his collarbone, and then kissed him lightly on his lips. “Can you forgive me for that, too?”

“I can forgive you anything, Bella. And as you forgave me so sweetly when I failed to send a message after my arrest, it seems the least I can do. Now tell me, love. Will you write about this night’s adventure?”

“You mean between you and me?” She brushed an errant strand of hair back off his brow. “I would write about it in my journal, but I fear it might burst into flames. I shall simply say that now I know why all the ladies I saw in those Italian paintings had those secretive smiles and that curious look in their eyes. I am one of them now. It was wonderful, Jack.”

“You are far lovelier than any painting, Bella. They are distant, lifeless things, while you are soft and warm and fit perfectly in my arms.”

She ducked her head, embarrassed by the compliment. She had always accounted herself capable and intelligent, but never beautiful. Jack made her feel that she was. “What was the first time like for you?”

“It’s not a thing I have any wish to recall, love. And any encounters since then have never lasted past the moment. I’ve tended to avoid entanglements. Life is simpler and safer that way. The first time worth remembering was tonight with you.”

She gave him a joyous smile. “Then it is a night of firsts for both of us.”

“Yes, sweetheart, it is.”

“Can it be a beginning, Jack? Is there some way we can be together? Something we can do?”

He grunted, and leaned over, snatching wine and a glass from a side table.

“You said it was impossible. Yet here we are again. Closer each time than the time before.”

“What would you us have us do, love?” he asked with a weary sigh. “Other than continue as we have been? How will you explain a highwayman? Even as Swift Nick, I couldn’t stay in London. Your friends, the ones from Shooter’s Hill, they would recognize me soon enough as Jack.”

“Have you never wanted a normal life? Have you never considered one?”

“Tell me what that is.”

“A home. A family. Children…”
Growing old…together.

“No. I have never considered it. I don’t imagine I was meant for such things. We have played this game before. I crave the adventure, Bella. You know it. You’ve felt it. You crave it, too.”

“Perhaps normal isn’t the word I meant. I don’t think you have to break the law or risk your life to have adventures. The most exciting part of this night wasn’t running over the rooftops or raising havoc in the streets of London. It was the last few hours I’ve spent with you.” She touched his face, trailing her fingers over his lips, and he caught and held them, flicking them with his tongue. Her body responded immediately, though she had thought herself exhausted.

He looked at her with smoldering eyes. “That does give pause for thought. I am an unrepentant rogue, and more honest about it than most, but you are a far more thorough thief than I....” He nipped her earlobe gently. “With a winsome smile you steal my breath. Your doe-like eyes ensnare me. Your dulcet voice leads me to temptation—and your every move is pure seduction. The night I stole your pearls you stole my heart. I never stood a chance.”

She snuggled tight against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Something has led us one to the other. There must be a way. You change your name all the time. Both your parents were of good family. Perhaps you might forge a new identity, built upon your heritage.”

“I was a bastard to my mother’s family. They never accepted her marriage as legitimate, nor would they ever accept me. Doubtless, it would suit you better if I were more the earl and less the bastard,” he said pulling away. “I hate to disappoint you, but my heritage is one of murder and whoredom, betrayal and abuse. I want nothing to do with it. Don’t ask that of me again.”

“Does it suit you better if it
is
impossible?”

“Of course not. How could you think so? I don’t expect you to understand. But if your father had murdered your mother after years of selling her as a whore. If your mother’s family called you bastard and abandoned you both to your fate, you might well refuse your heritage too.”

She sighed and patted his arm and he let her pull him back down beside her again.

“Then instead of you staying with me, perhaps I should go with you,” she mused.

“No! There lies ruin. You would lose everything. And for what? A life of constant danger with a man who cheats the noose? My future is uncertain at the best of times. I would not have such a life for you.”

“The future is uncertain for everyone, Jack. I might have died earlier tonight. Not once, but several times. I could catch a fever or be struck down on the streets of London. I don’t stop living my life because of it.”

“Bella….”

“It is fine. As you say, it is impossible. I won’t spite what I have for what I don’t. Tomorrow you will be on your way, after leaving William Butcher or someone else to guard against my cousin. We will go on as we have been doing, and meet when we can. It will be easier once I resume my travels.” Exhausted, she rested her head against his shoulder and her hand on his hip.

He reached for her hand and took it, placing it firm against his chest. She closed her eyes and relaxed against him, listening to his even breathing close against her cheek as the rain pattered against the pane and the wind tested the windows, trying to find a way inside.

“Bella?”

“Mmmm?” She heard him as if from a great distance.

“You deserve so much better.”

“Then give me better, Jack.” The words had barely escaped her lips when sleep claimed her, pulling her into a jumbled world of dizzying chases, searing kisses, and tangled limbs.

Jack lay awake in her luxurious bed long after she had fallen asleep. He combed her hair, with his fingers, lifting a chestnut and copper-hued tress to admire its sheen in the firelight. When he had left Ferrybridge at full gallop, the only thought on his mind had been that she was in danger. He had not dared hope for an invitation to her bed, much less a declaration of love.

She had given herself with pride and dignity as befitted such a gift, but in the giving she had been curious, trusting, responsive and she had stirred things inside him he’d never known were there. His heart twisted and hammered when she talked. Her voice and her laughter were sweet as music, and when she held him like this, he felt peace. What better word to call it. This wanting. This pleasure. This endless preoccupation and delight in her, than love?

He watched over her until the sun crested the eastern horizon. It filtered through the windows, caressing expensive sheets and down-filled pillows and glinting off her skin. He pulled down the sheet, careful not to wake her, and kissed her naked body. And then he got dressed.

~

Arabella awoke alone in her bed, blinking and bewildered. She had slept in inns and coaches and under the stars, but it had been months since she’d slept in her own room and she wasn’t quite sure how she got there. She was sore all over. Her elbows, her knees, her back, her ribs, and there was a dull aching between her legs. She felt a burst of panic and her fingers clutched at a pearl necklace. It took a moment for her to realize it was the only thing she wore.

“Good morning, love. You look a little startled.”

Jack sat watching her with a lopsided grin as he lounged on a chair by the fire. It hadn’t been a dream then. Last night had really happened. Her heart sank. He was fully clothed and he carried his coat hooked casually over his shoulder. She clutched at the bed sheet to cover herself, feeling awkward and embarrassed.

“You are leaving?”
Don’t go, Jack. Stay here with me
. But she had asked him to stay last night, and she was too proud to ask him again.

“Yes. I’m afraid there is no choice. It’s not safe in London anymore. He tossed her a pair of stockings and a hairbrush. “This is all I could find. I’m afraid between one thing and another, I ruined your clothes again last night.” He gave her an apologetic grin. “Tell me what else you need and where to find it. I can try and be your lady’s maid and help you dress, but if you can manage on your own, I’d much prefer to sit and watch. But hurry if you please. ’Tis best if we are on our way before your cousin comes to call or your friends realize that you are back.”

“What will the servants think if I leave without speaking to them?” she asked as she scurried around gathering her journal and armfuls of clothes. Anticipation and excitement banished all her aches and pains. She had no idea where she was going or how long she would be gone. Wherever they were heading, she was going there with Jack.

“I expect it will very exciting for them. The cause for many stories and much speculation. Perhaps they will think they were visited by a ghost.”

When she was finished dressing he caught her to him, giving her a kiss that made her tingle from head to toe. “You didn’t really think that I would leave you behind, did you?”

They left through the window, the same way they’d come in.

‘Newark is a very neate Stone built town, the Market place is very Large and Look'd ffine; just by it is the Great Church wch is Large and with a very high Spire. There remaines the holes in the Church walls that the bullets made which were shott into the town in the Siege Laid to it by the Parliament army in the Civil wars.’

On the outside, The Talbot Inn in Newark was not unlike a score of other inns Arabella had visited on her journeys, but she knew it was special to Jack. His protégé Allen resided here, as did the Winslows, the couple who had provided him a home in his troubled youth. He spoke of the place with the same fondness that other people spoke of their homes, and she felt in a way, as anxious and excited as if she were a bride to be about to meet her new family.

She peeked over Jack’s shoulder as they stepped inside. The delicious aromas of fresh baked bread, slow roasting meat, and the rich smell of coffee welcomed them into a busy room packed with beer drinking, card playing, storytelling locals, and a fair smattering of well dressed travelers. The place hummed with conversation and laughter, the clinking and clanking of eating utensils and dishes, and from another room, the strains of pipe and fiddle.

Jack’s arrival was greeted with shouts of welcome and before they had taken three steps into the room, a well-rounded, merry-eyed woman with hair as white as her snowy apron enveloped him in a warm embrace. “Lord save us all! If it isn’t the devil himself, come to call. You had us worried, Jack. Ever since
that
sorry lot said they lost track of you in London.” She nodded toward a group of men in the far corner by the hearth.

Arabella turned to see them eyeing her with great curiosity. She was not surprised to see the burly, baldheaded Mr. Butcher among them. He caught her gaze and returned it with a quick salute and a pirate’s grin.

“Mr. Winslow and I scarcely slept a wink these past three days, wondering what became of you! Isn’t that so Mr. Winslow?”

A gaunt, severe-looking gentlemen standing behind a counter gave them a solemn nod.

“Don’t blame them, Maggie. When I want to move fast no one can catch me, except perhaps for this one.” He placed a hand on the small of Arabella’s back. “Ben…Maggie…I’d like to introduce you to my very dear friend, Miss Arabella Hamilton. Arabella is a travel writer and will be staying with us for a little while. Her goal is to visit and write about every county in England,” he added with pride.

Arabella shot him a pleased smile.

“Oh my…how exciting!” A beaming Mrs. Winslow gave her an exuberant hug. “You must be Jack’s, Bella, and every bit as brave and lovely as he described.” She shooed away Mr. Winslow, whose greeting, though warm, was a bit more restrained. “Give the girl some room to breathe the both of you. We are so pleased to meet you at last. Come with me, Miss Hamilton, and I will show you the inn while the maids ready your room.”

“Please, call me Arabella.”

“Then you must call me Maggie. Come, Arabella. Let’s get you settled in your home away from home.”

The room Mrs. Winslow took her to was actually a bedroom and sitting room in one. Arabella had no doubt it was the grandest lodgings the inn had to offer. It was almost as luxurious and comfortable as her room in London, with a heavy oak bed with thick damask curtains, a substantial hearth, and a velvet-cushioned window seat next to wide mullioned windows that opened out over a garden and the countryside below. As lovely and as private as it was, she didn’t truly appreciate all its charms until later that night, when Jack came catlike through the window, to slide in beside her and warm her body with his own.

She hadn’t stopped aching for him since they had left her bed two days ago. His lovemaking was slow and exquisite. His tongue stroked and coaxed with lazy kisses. Each new touch of his hand was a revelation. She relaxed and embraced it, opening herself to him, letting him give her wave after wave of sweet delight that only left her wanting more.