Chapter 10 #2
As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she found James stretched along a patterned blue sofa, a wool blanket spread over him.
He lay with his head on a pillow, one arm resting over his eyes.
Had he drifted asleep in the few minutes it took her to walk to the room?
She moved closer and the worst of her dread eased.
Other than a bandage wrapped around his head, she could not see any other injuries. She leaned forward to inspect the bandage, instinctively adjusting a loosened edge.
“Kate.”
She startled at the deep voice. James’s arm was now lying at his side, and he was fully awake.
The steadiness of his gaze unnerved her. She cleared her throat. “Lord Brenton, I believed you were sleeping, or I would not have presumed to disturb you.”
He dismissed her apology. “I have no complaints about your nearness, though I was resting until Hadley woke me with the news that there was a lady at the door insisting on an audience.”
“I did not insist,” she countered. “I merely . . . inquired.”
James let out a low chuckle. “And to what do I owe the honor of your inquiry, Kate? I am afraid I cannot take you on our ride in Hyde Park this afternoon.”
She examined the bandage around his head, but all she could see was his body collapsing to the ground. Her easy reply died on her tongue.
His teasing expression faded, his voice now tense. “Tell me you attended one of the card parties last night. Or a musicale. I would dearly love to hear of it.”
Silence was the only answer she could give. He searched her face, questions tightening his features.
“You do not appear surprised to find me injured,” James said as he gestured toward the bandage. When she still gave no response, his voice became little more than a whisper. “I had a dreadful certainty that you were there last night, Kate.”
Kate opened her mouth to answer, but the words she needed stuck in her throat, her emotions too tangled to let anything past. It appeared James was more observant than she had supposed.
“Then it was you,” he said, the words low and rough.
Perhaps the only way to get honesty from him was to offer some of her own.
“How did you know?”
“Kate, it’s impossible for me not to notice when you are near.”
His tone was light, but his answer was not.
He smiled. “Besides, I can still smell the scent of orange blossom.”
“Aunt Edith gave me a vial of orange flower water last year. I forgot I was wearing it when I left home last night.”
“I suppose I should not be surprised to find you were in that alley. When we were children, wherever there was chaos, you were not far behind.”
Her smile broke free, and the air between them turned into something lighter. Easier. “I seem to remember following you into trouble many times.”
He answered with an easy smile and their old friendship returned. She much preferred this camaraderie to the unsettling awareness he stirred in her too often, but it was also frustrating. It made it easy to forget the unanswered questions that had brought her here.
“Then you were there because of me?” he asked.
His assumption provided a convenient cover for her secrets. There was no need to tell him about the paper or the symbol. It wounded her pride to let him believe that she had simply trailed after him, but it was preferable to him discovering the truth.
No answer came readily. She sat on the upholstered rosewood chair closest to the sofa, giving herself a moment to gather her thoughts. Perhaps visiting today had not been wise. She had come for answers, but James was the only one asking questions. She had already told him more than she meant to.
“Kate, please, I need to know. I have lived a thousand lifetimes since I thought I saw you standing in that alley.” He braced an arm to push himself to a sitting position.
The blanket covering James slipped, revealing a white linen shirt open at the neck, offering Kate a shocking glimpse of his bare chest.
Kate entirely forgot what James had said. A faint, betraying warmth bloomed in her cheeks. She averted her gaze only to meet his eyes, dark and dancing. He smirked. “If I knew I simply had to take off my shirt to get you to stop asking questions, Kate, I would have done so long ago.”
She scoffed, unwilling to admit her attraction out loud even if the vexing man had seen it. “Are you certain you did not hit your head harder than you believed?”
He burst into laughter, followed by a grimace. Her concern rose. “You are seriously injured, then?”
“Nothing that won’t mend. A bruise on my torso and a considerable knot on my head. The physician assured me I will be back to my charming self in a few days.”
The tightness in her chest eased. “I am relieved to hear it. When that man hit you . . .” She could not finish as tears pricked at her eyes.
“You should never have been subjected to something so brutal, Kate, but it cannot compare to the horror I felt thinking that you were alone in that dark alley.” He ran a hand down his face as though trying to wipe away the memory.
“I was not alone, precisely. Tess was there with me.”
Shock flashed across his face. The playfulness from earlier was gone. “Do you truly not know what danger you were in? What if that man had decided to hurt you?”
A strangled sound escaped him, though whether from pain or disbelief over her choices, she could not tell. James went rigid as his hand fisted the blanket. The rhythmic sound of the clock echoed in the silence.
“Please do not be angry with me. I did not mean to put myself, or Tess, in danger.”
“Angry with you?” The question seemed to unsteady him.
“Kate, I am angry that you were in danger at all. I feel ill at the thought of you at that tavern, and worse knowing I may have led you there.” His voice trailed off, and the haunted expression on his face left no doubt he meant every word.
“And yet I find myself grateful you were there to rescue me.”
She had expected James to be angry with her, not beholden. Had she misjudged him? Perhaps he was not the prideful, impenetrable earl she thought him to be. Worse, it was terribly inconvenient to discover that the man beneath the mask interested her far more than the boy she had remembered.
She tentatively laid her hand on his forearm, his muscles turning to iron at her touch. “I regret having caused you concern, Lord Brenton. It was not my intention.” She offered a soft smile. “However, I find myself vastly curious how you came to be at that tavern.”
Surprise crossed his face, but it was immediately extinguished, his features settling into an unreadable calm. He leaned back, severing their connection. “I was meeting someone, but the man didn’t show. What you witnessed was nothing more than an attempted robbery by a common footpad.”
His answer was too smooth, too practiced. The wall between them had risen again.
“Kate, that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you are about to go searching for mischief.”
A muffled laugh sounded from the corner where Tess sat.
Kate gave a wry smile. “I am merely . . . curious. That is all.”
“Yes, and I know what happens when your mind becomes curious. Please, Kate, do not go courting conspiracies. I plan to ask Bow Street to investigate and be done with the affair. Promise me you will leave it alone too.”
She would promise no such thing. He seemed determined to keep the truth from her. Did he truly have no interest in discovering what this all meant? “So you have no plans to investigate further? You cannot tell me you are content to let the matter rest.”
No answer came. He had asked her once to trust him. She had no right to resent him for holding secrets when she was doing the same, but the imbalance still stung.
Whatever he saw on her face made him lean forward again. “Kate, please promise me you will not pursue this.” He caught her hand. “Dash it all, I need to know you are safe.”
“Lord Brenton, I—” Kate’s words caught in her throat just as James began speaking. Whatever they might have said was lost to the sound of a knock. Hadley stood at the entrance, a stocky man with graying hair at his side.
“Lord Brenton, Doctor Brathwall is here to see you.”
It was time to leave. James had made it abundantly clear she would get no answers from him.
“I have overstayed my welcome,” she said, her voice clipped as she stood from the chair.
James attempted to stand until a stern glare from the physician made him lower back onto the sofa.
“I will leave you to your physician’s care, my lord.” She nodded to Tess, who rose to join her. Kate made her way toward the door, hurt and disappointment disguised as formality.
“Lady Katherine.”
She paused.
“May I call on you in a few days’ time?” James asked, his voice uncharacteristically rough. “When I have regained my strength?”
She turned back, surprised to see vulnerability breaking through the mask he always seemed to wear.
The weight of all the secrets they both so carefully guarded pressed between them, a divide wider than the years they had spent apart. Could they find a way to trust each other?
“I shall await your visit.” With luck, it would be several days before she saw him again. She needed distance. Time to untangle what he had said from what he still refused to say. She had come for answers but was leaving more confused and adrift than ever.
As she and Tess took the short walk home, she forced her mind away from James and back to the mystery. The note from Hugh’s saddlebags had led to the library, the coded parchment to the tavern, and the newspapers seemed to hover at the edge of it all.
Her thoughts drifted back to the wagon in the alley and the partially covered crates, the faint scent of salt clinging to the wood, The Great Dover Shipping Company stamped clearly on the side . . . and the almost invisible mark of a familiar oak leaf scorched near the bottom corner.
She had seen it then without truly seeing it.
She came to a sudden halt on the pavement. The answers might be elusive, but of one thing she was certain. She had made no promise to James, and she had every intention of seeing this through.
Her next step was unmistakable—whether James approved or not. It was time to pack her trunk.