A muscle jumped in his taut cheek, but he merely said, “By thunder, Brennan, what’s taking you so long? You had two Manton flintlocks and a knife at your disposal—you should have been out by now.”
He was evading her questions as he always did, the wretch.
“Morgan—” she began.
“Look!” he interrupted, gesturing to the house.
She turned to see the door to Jack’s house open and Helena limp out, blinking in the bright sun. Daniel quickly followed, shoving Crouch out ahead of him.
Relief brightened Morgan’s features. “I told you he’d manage it.” He gazed down at Juliet. “I told you.”
“Yes, you did,” she said quietly, wondering what would happen to Morgan now. Not that she wanted any more to do with him after what he’d done. And yet…
“It’s time for you to go, sweeting.” For a moment, his gaze trailed almost greedily over her face, as if he were trying to fix it in his mind.
“I suppose I ought to thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For keeping your promise. You said you’d protect me, and you did.”
His eyes darkened. “You once asked me to kiss you. Since this is good-bye…”
Without warning, he clasped her close and kissed her hard, as no man ever had, as if he wanted to make sure she never forgot it. There was no likelihood of that. His kiss scrambled all her insides, confusing her feelings toward him even more.
When he drew back, raw hunger flickered in his gaze. “Have a good life, Lady Juliet.”
She stared at him, not sure what to say, how to react.
Then Helena’s voice penetrated her haze. “Juliet! Where are you? Juliet!”
“Go on,” Morgan said, almost harshly, giving her a little push. “They’re waiting.”
That was all it took. Juliet whirled and ran from the alley toward her sister. “Helena!” she cried. “I’m here, I’m here!”
The two of them met in a fierce hug, crying and laughing like little girls. As Daniel stood beaming at them, Helena clasped her so close that Juliet could hardly breathe.
“I’m all right,” Juliet whispered. “Truly I am.”
Helena held her at arm’s length. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“No, not a bit.” He’d bruised her pride perhaps, but that was all. “Morgan watched out for me the whole time. I’m fine, I swear it!”
“And he didn’t…you aren’t…”
It took a second to figure out what Helena was trying to discover. “No! No, nothing like that! He didn’t even kiss—” She broke off. “That is, he treated me with all respect, almost as if I were his sister.”
Almost.
That final, searing kiss still lingered on her lips.
Helena scanned the road behind her. “Where is the villain, anyway?”
Juliet turned. “He was right—” A keen disappointment settled in her chest to find the alley empty. “Right there. But he’s gone now.”
A short time later, Helena sat with Juliet in a private room at the Hastings Arms, waiting while Daniel made travel arrangements downstairs. To her surprise, Mr. Seward had followed them outside the cavern to give them the belongings he’d confiscated at their capture, including Daniel’s purse, still intact. He’d also offered Daniel the
use of his horses for the return to London. Daniel had declined, but she could tell he’d been warmed by the offer.
For herself, she suspected that Crouch’s revelations had badly shaken Mr. Seward. They’d certainly shaken her. Although Crouch’s tale had gained him a tiny bit of her sympathy, it hadn’t negated his abominable actions in ordering the kidnapping of her sister.
She searched Juliet’s features, but could see nothing to indicate that Mr. Pryce had harmed her. That didn’t mean, however, that he hadn’t, and the thought made her heart twist in her chest.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked for what she knew was the tenth time at least.
“I’m quite well. I promise.” Juliet patted her hand.
“I only wish that scoundrel hadn’t run off,” Helena grumbled. “I could happily wring his neck for what he did to you.”
When Juliet remained silent, Helena frowned. The girl had been adamant that no one was to pursue Mr. Pryce. She’d insisted that his behavior at the end redeemed his other actions.
In Helena’s mind, it didn’t in the least. But that would be a matter for discussion with Griff. Right now, the most important thing was getting home safely.
Juliet shifted in her chair and eyed Helena curiously. “By the way, what was all that nonsense in the cavern about you being Daniel’s wife?”
Lord, she’d forgotten about that. “Daniel…er…that is…he told people we were married while we were on the road. He did it to protect my reputation.”
“That was very clever of him.”
“Yes, very,” she said wryly. She hesitated to reveal that she might actually become Mrs. Brennan. First she wanted to be sure that Daniel still meant to marry her. Despite
their lovemaking last night, he hadn’t exactly renewed his proposal.
The parlor door opened just then, sparing her any more of Juliet’s embarrassing questions. Daniel entered with Crouch in tow. “The mail coach to London comes through in a few minutes, and I’ve booked passage for the two of you.”
“Aren’t we going to Dover with you?” Helena said apprehensively.
Daniel laid his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think that’s wise. If Griff has reached London, he and Rosalind will be frantic, and I’d feel safer with you both there anyway. You can be at Knighton House by this evening on the mail coach.”
“So quickly?” Helena said.
He smiled wryly. “You’d be surprised how quickly you can travel when you’re not tracking leads and having gigs collapse under you and hiding from treacherous free traders.”
And getting drunk in taverns and making love in barns,
she thought, her cheeks warming. “How long will you be gone?”
“No more than a couple of days, I hope. I may have to help him tie up some loose ends, if only to get him out of here for good.”
There was a noise in the hall, a porter calling the arrival of the mail coach. “Go on now,” Daniel urged. “I won’t feel easy until you’re bound for London.”
He hurried them out, and as he handed Helena into the crowded coach, she turned to stare anxiously into his face. “You will come back to me, Danny, won’t you?”
“Yes, love.” He brushed a kiss across her hand. “I promise.”
Nonetheless, she fretted all the way to London. Since
she and Juliet could not talk freely in front of the other passengers, all she could do was think and worry. Last night with Daniel had been the most incredible, earth-shattering night of her life, but they had not spoken of marriage again. And today Daniel had heard more wretched things about his family. She would just die if he reacted as he had yesterday, pushing her away again.
Well, if he tried it, he would have a fight on his hands. Because Daniel Brennan was not going to escape marriage to her, no matter what fool notions he had.
When they arrived in London at Knighton House, all was chaos. Griff and Rosalind had returned, and Griff had already summoned runners and soldiers. They filled the halls and spilled out of Griff’s study, looking as scruffy and ill-mannered as Crouch’s men, or worse. Helena and Juliet swept past them into the room to find poor Seth Atkins under siege. Griff sat behind his desk with Helena’s sketches, going over them with a fine-tooth comb as Rosalind fretted and demanded answers.
“We’re back!” Juliet announced brightly, effectively halting any other conversation.
The shock on Rosalind’s face was rapidly replaced by joy. “Juliet! Helena!” she cried as she bounded across the room.
More chaos ensued, punctuated by tears, hugs, and innumerable questions, each following so hard and fast on the other that sorting them out took forever. It was even longer before the household returned to normalcy, the runners and soldiers banished, Seth sent off to a guest room, and a modicum of sanity restored.
Now Helena and Juliet sat on the settee in Griff’s study with Rosalind between them. She gripped both their hands as if afraid they might vanish into thin air.
Helena had begun by recounting the final confrontation with Crouch, so now they were working their way backward through the tale, trying to relate everything that had happened.
“What I don’t understand is all this nonsense about Helena being Daniel’s wife,” Griff said. “That lad Seth insisted that he helped a Mr. and Mrs. Brennan.”
“Oh,” Juliet explained cheerily, “Daniel and Helena had to pretend to be married while they traveled so they could protect her reputation.”
Griff raised an eyebrow. “Did they indeed? Seth seemed to think there was more to it than that.”
Leave it to her rapscallion brother-in-law to divine the truth. Helena cast Griff her chilliest look. “Seth was wrong.” One thing she wouldn’t tolerate was meddling questions about her and Daniel and what they’d done. Not until he could be present, too. Much as she wanted to proclaim him as her fiancé, she would not do it until he’d returned and confirmed that he still wanted to marry her.
Unfortunately, Griff would not let it end there. “All the same, there is the rather intriguing matter of the sketches you sent home. Not those of the smugglers. The other one on the back.”
Of Daniel half-naked, lying in the horse stall. Helena’s face flamed. “That is private, and none of your concern.”
“You’re my sister-in-law now, so you’ve become my concern.”
“Now see here, Griff Knighton, if you think that just because you married my sister, I will tolerate your trying to—” Helena began.
“You say that Daniel won’t be back for a few days?” Rosalind jumped in quickly.
Helena glared at Griff a moment before meeting her sister’s gaze. “Yes.”
“Then there’s not much point in discussing this until then, is there?”
Though Helena wondered why her sister had unexpectedly turned into her ally in this, she was not about to protest it.
For her part, Rosalind had already decided something would have to be done about Helena and Daniel when the blasted rogue returned. She’d seen that sketch, too—Daniel bare-chested and asleep, lying beneath what looked like a blanket. Helena could only have sketched it if she’d been sharing a room with the rascal, and probably his bed, too. It was hard to imagine Helena—who lived by the most stringent rules of propriety—succumbing to any man, yet
something
had certainly happened. And if it was what Rosalind thought, then she intended to make sure Daniel offered her sister a more respectable position than bed warmer.
She felt fairly certain that he would. She’d always suspected Daniel of having feelings for Helena. If Helena refused to speak of it, however, it might mean she still clung to her distrust of men. Then again, she might simply be uncertain of Daniel’s intentions herself.
Either way, Rosalind would make sure her dear sister found happiness—if not with Daniel, then with
some
worthy gentleman.
But to ensure it, she had to address certain other matters. She rose to pace the room. “With you and Juliet back, we need to set about repairing any possible damage to your reputations.”
Helena raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about reputation?”
“She may not always care about her own,” Griff put in dryly, “but she’s very particular about her sisters’.”
Rosalind glared at her husband. “Especially when
your
wild friends make matters difficult by dragging them about the countryside unchaperoned.” Her brow furrowed as she faced her sisters. Juliet sat blushing, her head bowed, but Helena was even more intractable than usual and stared her down. “The sooner you’re both seen publicly, the easier it will be to squelch any rumors. We can pretend you just came up from the country to visit me now that Griff and I have returned from our honeymoon.”
“I don’t see why we need to cover anything up,” Helena said loftily. “No one knows us in London. Who could possibly know what we did or whom we did it with?”
“One thing I’ve learned since coming here is that servants talk,” Rosalind retorted. “How do you think I found out that you went off with Daniel alone? Griff’s servants told me.”
Helena sighed.
Rosalind went on. “Fortunately, few people are in town now, but still I know neither of you is probably in the mood for society affairs, but you’ll have to marshal your strength, I’m afraid. Tomorrow morning we begin paying calls and doing whatever we can to pretend that you haven’t been gallivanting around the country alone with young men. Because I refuse to see my sisters’ futures ruined because of some blasted free-trading friends of Griff’s and Daniel’s.”
He swore he’d adore her,
And to her ever constant prove;
He’d wed her, he’d bed her.
And none on earth but her he’d love.
“Una’s Lock,”
anonymous nineteenth-century Irish ballad
N
othing in fashionable London had changed in eight years, Helena thought as she entered yet another ballroom with Rosalind, this time for a ball at Lord and Lady Rushton’s Mayfair mansion.
For a week, Rosalind had dragged her and Juliet from one event to another—breakfasts and routs and appearances at the opera. Helena had acquiesced for her sisters’
sakes. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do, as long as Daniel remained absent.
She did wish, however, that he’d send word of where he was or when he would return. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. He would come. He had promised.
But what if he didn’t? What if he stayed away because he’d changed his mind? Because their time together had all faded into an amusing adventure that was now over and done? What if the wonderful night of mutual vows she remembered had been very one-sided?
No, she wouldn’t think of that. He loved her. She knew he did. He would come.
In the meantime, she had no choice but to resume her role as Well-bred Young Lady. Strange, how ill-fitting it seemed these days. For the first time in her life, she chafed at the restrictions of her rank. She’d discovered that one minute with Daniel held more excitement than a week in “good society.”