Chapter 12
Evelyn bristled at Asher’s unspoken implication that she should stay put. She shifted in her seat, impatience tightening in her chest as the urge to do something grew harder to ignore.
The carriage wheel breaking upon their departure from Eastclere Manor didn’t sit right with her, but she was aware that Asher likely didn’t need her assistance at the moment.
She looked out the window, squinting as she could have sworn she saw motion to the side. Was that Asher and the driver? But no, the driver in his livery was in the distance, walking away. Conversation sounded outside the carriage. Asher must be talking to these men. About what?
She peered through the window, trying to see the men more clearly, to determine whether they posed any threat.
Evelyn gasped when the man lifted the iron overhead, letting out a yelp as she threw herself toward the door, wanting to get out and help, although how she would do so, she had no idea.
A shadow moved near the carriage door on the other side, and Evelyn paused before taking any rash action.
She closed her eyes, listening. Footsteps paused near her door, while, judging from the scuffles on the other side, Asher was involved in fisticuffs.
The handle on the side opposite Asher turned, and Evelyn knew in an instant that this was no accidental carriage robbery. This was a coordinated effort. Someone was after them.
She made her decision not a moment too soon.
Taking a look around, she found one of the foot-warming bricks beneath the carriage seat.
Fisting it in her left hand, she used her right to throw open the carriage door toward Asher, smiling grimly in satisfaction when it banged into one of the attackers, sending him flying backward, leaving Asher battling just one.
The foe turned his head toward her, giving Asher the time he needed to drive the man back with powerful, fast-moving fists.
“Evelyn, back in the carriage!” he shouted, but she was having none of that.
Especially not when the other man was returning, and footsteps were sounding from the opposite side of the carriage.
They couldn’t take them alone. But perhaps they just needed some assistance.
“Help!” she called out as loudly as she could. “We’re under attack!”
As the other man circled, she took a third brick and hurled it at him with all her might.
It missed him, but it gave her enough time to reload with another brick — and it seemed her calls had worked as people began filtering out of the few buildings around them, many she had assumed to be abandoned.
Evelyn had no idea whether the onlookers would be on their side, as this was a working-class neighborhood, but it seemed the number of witnesses was enough to drive these men away.
“This isn’t the end!” one man shouted over his shoulder as they ran off.
Breath coming hard, Asher swivelled around, his gaze landing on Evelyn.
She was also panting, especially as her gaze ran up and down his body.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I am. And you?”
“Yes,” she said. “But I wasn’t the one engaged in fisticuffs.”
“I’m just fine,” he repeated.
A moment passed between them, and before she had time to think about it, she was moving, out of the carriage toward him. He took a step as well, and in seconds, his arms were wrapped around her, holding her close against him.
His body moved seemingly in time with hers as they stood, locked in an embrace, her head pressed against his jacket, while he held her tightly against him, as though he never wanted to let go.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “So sorry. I never wanted to put you in danger. Knowing you were in the carriage, that you were at risk of those men discovering you was distressing and then you… you…”
“Took one out?”
His laugh was shaky. “You were magnificent, even though you absolutely terrified me.”
“I couldn’t leave you alone out here with them,” she said, not wanting to tell him that she had actually been in greater danger than he had realized, as another had threatened her.
Silence crashed down around them long enough that the surrounding murmuring intensified, and when she looked over her shoulder, it appeared that some of the onlookers were stepping closer. Asher tugged on Evelyn’s hand.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“But—”
“Look in the distance.” He pointed down the road. “Jacobs is returning, with help.”
“Will he not be concerned if we are no longer here?”
Asher glanced around before motioning toward a boy of about thirteen. He stepped forward with confidence, and Asher asked him to provide the driver with a message when he returned. He nodded, and Asher pressed a coin into his palm.
“Come,” he said, turning and holding his gloved hand out to Evelyn, who gladly took it.
As he led her down the street, she realized that she never wanted to let go. When she had been threatened in the carriage, she had wanted to escape, yes. But instinctively she had known, deep within, that Asher was where safety lay. All she had to do was get to him, and she would be fine.
Just as she had been.
Despite his outward calm, Asher was still trying to steady his racing heart.
They had been watched, and he was well aware that Evelyn was meant to be frightened at the very least, taken at the worst.
He rubbed his brow, trying to make sense of the situation — and his wife.
She was not only fearless but also precise. Determined. She hadn’t shied away from the danger but had run toward it — for him.
Evelyn looked up at him. “We will have to be careful. They were not subtle.”
He shook his head. “Not in the least.”
She was not a woman to be shielded, he realized. She was a woman to be trusted.
They walked down the side of the road, and when he looked up, it was to find a large group of men walking toward them. They could be anyone — workers, likely leaving a shift — but he wasn’t going to take that chance. Not with Evelyn.
He looked to his left and, at the last moment, pulled Evelyn into what appeared to be a recessed doorway of an abandoned building.
“What is this?” Evelyn asked. “What are we doing?”
“Shh,” he said, placing a finger against her lips. “I want to see who these men are — if they are here for us or simply going about their day.”
Her body was pressed against his again, and this time she didn’t burrow her head into him but instead looked up at him brazenly. Her hands slipped into the sleeves of his jacket, her gloved fingers dancing over his arms.
“You shouldn’t have had to save me,” he muttered, shaking his head, still berating himself for putting her in such a position.
“Why not?” she challenged him, her eyes bright, determined. “You would do the same for me.”
“Yes, but I’m your husband. That’s my responsibility.”
There it was, the weight of the word lying between them. And yet… the thought of anyone else taking on that honor for her had become unthinkable.
“Part of being married, I suppose,” he said slowly, “is that we take this danger on together now. Move forward.”
She nodded slowly.
“I don’t want to be your duty,” she said.
“You’re not a duty,” he murmured. “You’re a… commitment.”
“That could be taken many different ways,” she said, arching a brow as the moment between them stretched.
He stared at her, lost for words, feeling relief that she was safe. Respect that she was just as committed to him as he was to her.
And a wanting that was becoming impossible to ignore.
He tilted his head a few inches, pausing, staring at her lips, nearly falling apart when her pink tongue reached out and licked her bottom lip.
He nearly met those lips with his, but he waited a beat, giving her the choice.
“Evelyn?” His voice was low, more hesitant than he had ever been with a woman before. But he couldn’t get this wrong. He rested his hand on her lower back, pressing her close, and she inhaled sharply.
He waited for a moment that seemed to stretch so much longer than the actual time, but then she stood on her toes, melted against him, and tilted her head until they were a breath apart. He couldn’t help himself. He took what she so willingly offered.
As he kissed her, something deep inside of him locked into place, telling him this was right. This was meant to be.
He pressed his mouth softly against hers at first, taking her breath, before sliding his fingers over her jaw and then into her hair, knocking her hat off her head.
He knew he should stop, that this was enough for a first kiss.
But it seemed he could go nowhere but forward — especially when she reached up and gripped a lapel of his jacket with one hand, the other covering his chest.
He stroked his tongue against her lips, an ache growing within him when she opened them, inviting him in.
She smelled so good. Like lilacs after a fresh rain, one that brightened flowers and was followed by sunshine.
He tugged slightly on the back of her hair, enjoying the moan that emerged from her lips, one he caught with his mouth.
He licked into her, etching into his mind the way she tasted, smelled, felt in his arms.
He could have stayed here forever, could have continued this until they both found their satisfaction, but the cold stone against his back and the sound of people walking around them reminded him of where they were, of who they were, of what was happening to them, and why they were even here in the first place.
He reluctantly pulled away from her, needing to end this kiss before it became reckless.
Only, he realized, it was too late for that.
Despite his intentions, all that had been building between them had allowed this to become meaningful, and that was another problem entirely — one he would have to consider later, without her presence clouding his judgment.
The rumble of carriage wheels nearby startled them both, but instead of jumping away from him, Evelyn merely leaned back and smiled up at him — a smile of satisfaction that warmed his already heated body.
“I think it’s the carriage,” she said, looking out of the small, recessed alcove they found themselves in. “The driver must have fixed it. What’s his name?”
“Jacobs,” Asher said, blinking as he tried to recover himself, finding it difficult after that life-altering kiss.
For he wasn’t sure if he would ever be the same again, not after knowing how she tasted, how she felt in his arms.
She was a responsibility, yes.
He could fall for her, and risk losing her one way or another.
But maybe… just maybe… it could all be worth it, if it meant having her.