When they had both returned inside safely, the boy murmured, “Is the bad man gone?”
“The bad man?”
“The man who was searching my room. He was trying to take my toys.”
Emily didn’t move, didn’t breathe. All the blood had drained from her face, and she stood as motionless as a statue. He knew exactly what she was thinking, but he didn't want to make assumptions without questioning the boy.
“What did the man look like, Royce?” Stephen asked, helping the boy into bed.
“He was green with tall horns.” The boy yawned. “He had a red tail, too.”
Emily visibly relaxed. “It was only a dream, sweeting.” She tucked him in and pressed a kiss to his temple, removing the drawers from his head. Smoothing his hair, she kissed him a second time. “Goodnight.”
He mumbled a sleepy response, pulling the covers up to his chin. Stephen held the lamp up, waiting for Emily to follow him from the room. When they reached the privacy of the hallway, Emily turned. “Do you really believe there was someone here tonight?”
Stephen shrugged. “It sounds like a young boy’s overactive imagination.” But, like her, he couldn't say for certain.
“And what if he wasn’t imagining things? Someone tried to kill you.”
He hadn’t forgotten about that at all. Though he didn’t know why, he suspected it had something to do with Carstairs and Hollingford.
“The man who attacked you at Falkirk,” he began, “what did he want?” He sensed that there was another connection, something he hadn’t foreseen.
“He wanted investment papers that belonged to Daniel.”
The stolen shipment. No doubt the assailant had something to do with the theft. And if he wanted the papers, likely he was trying to cover up his own involvement.
“Did you give him anything?”
“I had nothing to give.” Emily rubbed her arms, as if to ward off a chill. “But I think he went to my father’s house. Daniel had some of his belongings there, before he—” Her voice broke off, and she lowered her gaze to the carpet.
He understood exactly what she was thinking. Her brother might well have become a victim because of the shipping investment. But why? He thought a moment and decided there was only one place to get the answers. “We need to go back to Falkirk. I think your brother was hiding information. It may have cost him his life.”
She looked so glum at the knowledge, he wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything. It had been a difficult night for both of them. And tonight, he intended to keep a close watch over her. There had been too many dangerous encounters.
He escorted her down the hall and opened the door to her room. Before he could enter, she blocked the entrance. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I am staying here tonight.” He wasn't about to leave her alone if there was any hint of danger.
She glared at him, and he could almost see her defenses rise up in anger. “Do you really believe that after tonight I want you to share my room?”
She was angry, he realized. He’d been thinking of her protection, while she still held hurt feelings.
Taking her hand, he pulled her inside her room, closing the door and locking it. He pocketed the key. “It is my duty to protect my family, don’t you think?”
She glared at him, and Stephen knew he hadn’t been forgiven for his earlier behavior. He changed the subject. “Why did you kiss me earlier?”
“Because I wanted to.”
Her honesty caught him up short. He didn’t know what to say next. Instead, he moved behind her, slipping the pins from her hair. It spilled across his fingers in a silken veil of gold. Stephen continued removing pins, using his fingers to smooth the strands of hair.
She turned, biting her lower lip. “Thank you for purchasing a new coat and shoes for Royce.”
The words weren’t what he’d expected. And when her hands rested upon his shoulders, he wondered if she would kiss him again. Her mouth reminded him of an apple tart, sweet and warm. He wanted to nibble at her lips, tasting her until she melted against him.
Stephen drew her closer, resting his palms on her waist. Though she was still fully clothed, an intimacy rose between them, with her hair falling around her shoulders. “Why did you run from me?”
Color flooded her cheeks. “Because I—I was afraid.” She turned her face to the side, but her fingers remained upon him, her thumbs idly tracing a pattern. From the slight blush of her cheeks, he realized she wasn’t going to push him away.
