Chapter 10 #2
Hugh gave up on her buttons but didn’t release her. “Then let us use those minutes to our best advantage.” Her leg prickled when his palm reached under her hem and settled on her ankle. With his hand warming her through her stocking, Audrey’s protests shriveled on her tongue.
She went to putty in his arms, sighing as his palm skimmed up her shin, to her knee, and then touched her skin where her stocking terminated. Her lips drifted over his forehead, her fingers raking into the dark, silky soft strands of his hair.
“I’m happy to hear about Sir,” she said, thinking it entirely possible his playful burst of energy was due to his sense of relief.
“You wish him to stay with us, don’t you?” Hugh asked, his finger hooking the lip of her stocking and brushing underneath. “Once we’re married?”
She pulled back a little to see him. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
“He was worried we wouldn’t want him around.”
Her heart squeezed. “You set him straight, I hope?”
“It’s what I seem to do on a regular basis,” he replied with wicked smirk. The rough pad of Hugh’s thumb brushed the weal of a scar on her thigh, compliments of a bullet grazing her leg last August. She shivered.
“The first chance I get, I am kissing this scar,” he whispered. The promise brought a delectable image to her mind.
Audrey pushed her hand under the lapel of his coat and pressed her fingers against his shoulder. “Don’t forget, I have one here too. That one will need the same attention.”
She’d meant to make him smile, but after a flex of his brow, his hand stilled.
“What is wrong?” she asked.
He pressed his palm against her thigh, then released her, bringing his hand back out from under her skirt. She barely resisted making a moan of discontent.
“You’ve been in mortal danger too many times,” he replied. “All in the name of an investigation. With me.”
Audrey stared at him, half wondering if Michael had somehow gotten to him this morning.
“You cannot blame yourself. I would have investigated those crimes with or without you.” He knew as much, too. He’d professed the need to join her, if only to try and keep her safe.
“I don’t blame myself,” he replied. “But I do blame my work. Take this case, for example. I’ve brought you into it.”
“I want to be here.”
“The trouble is, I want you here as well. You’re good at this.”
Audrey wanted to bask in the compliment, but sensed it was attached to something she wouldn’t like at all. “I don’t understand how that is troublesome.”
She was sitting rigidly on his lap now, and though he still had his arms around her, the heat of the moment had fizzled.
“Because you will soon be my wife. And, I hope, the mother of our children. I cannot lose you. I cannot risk that.”
He spoke softly, seriously. Audrey caressed his cheek, wishing she could take away his worry. Grant Thornton had lost his wife and infant years ago, and she knew his friend’s loss had affected Hugh. He’d seen up close the devastation.
“You won’t lose me,” she said, though she knew it was a promise she didn’t have complete control over. “However, I don’t want to be treated like I am suddenly fragile just because I have the title of wife. Or the title of mother.”
Hugh slid her from his lap, leaving her bereft. And a little perturbed.
“It is my duty to protect my wife. I take that seriously.”
His duty? Gracious now he truly did sound like Michael. Audrey folded her arms, her temper rising. “You weren’t serious about protecting me before?”
He moved to sit across from her, snatching up his tossed glove on the way. “Of course, I was.”
She shrugged. “Then nothing has changed.”
“Everything has changed,” he said, his voice deepening and rising. “You will be my responsibility. If you were to come to harm—”
“You would be at fault?” But then, another notion popped into her mind. “Or are you only worried that others will view it that way?”
Hugh tightened his jaw. His eyes flashed. “You know I don’t care what other people think.”
“Then what is this all about?”
He leaned forward, bracing his arms on his thighs as he pulled on his glove. “I want you safe. I don’t want to have to worry that you’ll be shot or abducted, for Christ’s sake.”
She felt her temperature increasing. “I don’t want to worry those things will happen to you, either.”
“They haven’t happened to me. They have to you.”
Audrey straightened, all electrical warmth from his hands and kisses now having vanished. “You’ve been stabbed,” she pointed out, recalling how Delia Montgomery had plunged a blade into his forearm.
He rolled his eyes. “It was hardly deadly.”
“It could have been!”
The carriage began to slow, and Audrey worried her exclamation had been heard by Carrigan and Greer. Frustration brimmed hot and fast. Why was he doing this? “You said we would be partners. In everything.”
Hugh leaned forward and gripped her hand. “We are.”
“But only if you think it is safe enough.” She pulled her hand from his. “Maybe I’m not the right woman for you, if you want a wife who will simply sit back and do whatever you ask.”
Hurt and then aggravation charged across his face. “That is not what I want. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Clearly.”
A soft cough came from outside the carriage. They’d drawn to a stop, she realized, and Carrigan was waiting at the door.
Feeling sick with disappointment, Audrey blinked back the sting of tears. “Yes, we’re ready, Carrigan,” she called to him, unable to look Hugh in the eye.
Her driver opened the door, flooding the interior with light. She took his hand and descended, her stomach curdling with regret.