Brogan nodded at Hurst. “Whatever is in the wardrobe closet that would be appropriate for travel, put it together for us, will you?”
The agent nodded and hurried to the back room.
Brogan rested his weight on the balls of his feet. The calm that came right before a fight dropped over him like a veil. “Well,” he said to Juliana, “it looks like I’m finally going to meet this famous poet and philosopher you talk so much about.”
And since such an introduction held the potential for bloodshed, it was a meeting Brogan for once looked forward to.
***
Leaning her temple against the carriage window, Juliana watched as the last building of London rolled out of view. The coach rattled over a rut, and she bounced, her head nearly hitting the ceiling.
They were taking the fastest carriage the Bond Agency owned, with four horses out in front running hell for leather. This trip had a single purpose, and the niceties, like comfort, no longer mattered. It was a race, who would reach her father first, one she and Brogan had to win.
She traced a seam in the wood paneling near the window. One would think that in such an important matter that she would feel more interest. That her pulse would be racing, her stomach turning over.
Instead, she felt nothing. Nothing but duty to do her best to save her father.
Brogan leaned forward and rested his palm on her knee. “It will be all right.”
She looked at his face, dropped her gaze to his hand. It was such an intimate gesture, his desire to console her. He must think her quite out of her senses if he was willing to risk such unprofessional behavior. He’d made such a point of denying them anything else.
He snatched his hand back, as though she burned.
Yes, that was more like it. She looked out the window again. It was worse being in this carriage with Brogan. She wished it had been any other agent who had come with her. She wanted to stay in her little cocoon, remain numb as long as possible. But every word from his mouth, every look, threatened to drag her out.
“I don't require reassurance,” she said. “We can keep this completely professional. The way you want.”
He loosed a deep breath. “None of this is what I want.”
“But this is what you've created.” She tapped her fingers on her thigh. “If it's not what you want, then why have you made it this way?”
“Because it's what is best. Someday, you'll see—”
“Please, be quiet.” Heat rose up her chest. She didn't want to hear how someday she'd be thankful. Or happy. Grateful that he’d put an end to their relationship. He might think he was saving her to marry someone better, someone of her own station.
She couldn't imagine marrying anyone. Not if it wasn’t Brogan. Why didn’t he want to save her from heartbreak? From loneliness?
Brogan leaned back, his nostrils flaring. He plucked his hat from the seat, gripped it, then chucked it into the corner of the coach.
Brogan would marry. He wouldn’t be lonely. A man like him deserved a good wife. Her heart pinched, and she placed her hand over it.
She'd always thought jealousy a foolish emotion, reserved only for the simpletons who didn’t trust their partners. But Brogan was under no obligation to her, he’d made no vows. There was no trust to break, yet jealousy still clogged her throat until she thought she couldn’t breathe.
She hated the woman he would marry. The woman who would share his bed. Hold his hand when he was sick. Laugh with him. Tease him.
For just a moment, she understood her brother and what he was capable of. Understood how passion could turn ugly, drive someone under its spell to do something horrible. If Brogan whispered in her ear, promising her forever if only she’d commit some dastardly deed, how tempted would she be? One bad act that would give her everything.
That would give her him.
But Brogan would never ask her to do something immoral. He was no Miss Bella Lynn.
The carriage jounced again, so hard she nearly fell off her seat. She cried out at her sharp landing on the springs.
“We can't slow down,” Brogan said.
She smoothed her hands down the stomach of her gown. “I didn't ask you to.”
“Come here.” He patted the seat next to him. “I’ll make sure you don't bounce away.”
