Chapter Twenty-Two
Wiltshire House
Middlesex
Winnie thanked herlucky stars she’d survived the encounter and escaped the hired Scotsmen. Having considered who might have hired the militia, only one name came to mind: Axel Hammond, who’d sworn to get even and bring her to justice. Thanks to Lex and Basil, his efforts had been thwarted. She prayed they were all right. She hadn’t heard any shots fired, so she could only hope that the Scotsmen had ridden off.
Winnie had raced back to Wiltshire House, none the worse for wear, except for the ache in her heart. Her respect and love for Lex had grown exponentially, having witnessed his bravery.
That he’d been willing to give up his life for a woman he thought was a stranger, and a thief to boot—it made her love him even more. Although she did have to wonder if he’d realized she was the Lace Bandit. He did look furious when their eyes had met.
The next day, Winnie was dressed in her plainest dress and wearing Wellington boots. She was in the stable, her only company Thomas.
“M’lady, are you feeling well? You haven’t been yourself lately.”Thomas, wielding a broom, swept the central aisle in the stable.
Although Winnie trusted Thomas, she had not been forthcoming with her present dilemma. “I’m just a bit under the weather. Nothing to worry about.”
Thomas glanced at her, and she could see he didn’t believe her. His expression spoke volumes, and she knew he wanted to press her to explain. His station, however, prevented him from questioning her about matters of a more personal level. There was no point in telling him anything, as there was nothing he could do. Matters of the heart were better kept to oneself.
“Don’t worry, Thomas. I’ll be fine,” she added.
He nodded and left to tend to other chores.
She resumed her brushing, focusing on Masq’s mane. “At least I have you to confide in. You won’t reprimand me for all the foolhardy things I’ve done.”
“Masq might not, but I most certainly will.”
The rich timbre of his voice curled around her, and goosebumps prickled her arms. Only one voice on earth could elicit such a feeling of desire and an ache deep in her core.
Winnie turned and saw the man who had occupied her thoughts nonstop for weeks.
She couldn’t find her next breath, and the stall’s walls closed in on her. It was as if the world had shifted its axis. “You’re here…”
“Yes. I’m here.” He moved closer, and she stepped back until her back pressed against the wall. Masq whinnied, and his tail flicked a pesky fly away. The horse ignored the two of them, dipping his head into the feed bucket. It was as if the whole world lay between the walls of Masq’s stall and nothing else mattered.
Everything Winnie ever desired was within reach if only she could find the right words, yet they eluded her.
“I’d give my right hand to know what those foolhardy things are.” He held her gaze, daring her to enlighten him.
God, he looked handsome. And she looked like an utter mess, but there was nothing to be done about it. “I-I confess I am at a loss for words.”
“Try, Edwina. I have ridden a long way to hear them. Have you no regard for my feelings?”
It rankled her that he could not see how very much he mattered to her, and without thinking through her thoughts, she erupted. “Yourfeelings? What of mine? You practically disappeared after I recovered from my fall.”
Was she mad, behaving as if he were at fault?
Control your temper. He’s here, and it means something.
“I had a good reason to not come to see you sooner. What was your reason for leaving London without a word?”
Tell him.
His eyebrow lifted with his skepticism.
She fidgeted and studied the brush in her hand. “I had a reason, and when I look back now, it was not a good reason. I think I was afraid to tell you what I had to tell you. I was afraid to lose you.”
“Why don’t you tell me now and let me be the judge of my own response?”
