He nodded. That was best, even though he wanted so desperately for her to stay. To offer himself in a way that would only complicate things even though it would be unforgettable.
“I understand. Let me take you.”
She looked like she would argue, but then her shoulders rolled forward in surrender. “It would be nice not to try to find a hack.”
He led her back through the narrow hall, feeling her presence at his back the entire time. Offering to help her was the right thing to do, he had no doubt about that. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave Jane to suffer alone.
But he also had no doubt that by the time this was over, the ache in his heart would be far deeper, because time spent alone with her couldn’t help but change him. It always did.
Ripley’s phaeton wasn’t a new one, but it was well maintained. It was one of his few frivolities, something Jane had always been fascinated by since the bouncy, jaunty vehicle seemed at odds with the serious, focused man who now drove it through the streets back to her shop and the little home she kept above it.
Still, the cool night air on her face was helpful at present. It kept the pure terror over her sister at bay, settled her. As did the presence of the man beside her. As if he sensed that, his hand came over to settle on her knee gently.
The weight of his fingers was powerful, soothing and erotic at the same time. Her hand trembled as she covered his, splaying her fingers so that they fit into the crooks of his bigger hand. For a few moments they rode silently like that, the weight of everything hanging between them. But also the relief of his presence wrapping around her like a cloak.
After a short ride, they arrived back at her shop. She stared at the sign that swung from the awning as they stopped. This was home, but it hadn’t yet begun to feel like it. She feared it never would.
She looked at Ripley and squeezed his hand before she released it. “I don’t deserve you.”
His expression softened in the dim light of the street lanterns. “Oh, Janie, you deserve so much more,” he whispered. He cupped her cheek, rough fingers brushing her skin. She found herself leaning in to him, felt him do the same even when her eyes fluttered shut.
He kissed her again. Only this time the heat didn’t elevate, the passion didn’t threaten to bubble out of control. This time it was only comfort.
When they parted, he said, “I’ll pick you up here tomorrow morning. Is seven too early?”
She shook her head. “I’m learning to be an early riser. And for my sister? I’d do anything.”
He helped her down and sat while she unlocked her door. She looked back at him before she entered the building, her knight in an open carriage. Then she shut the door to him.
But she worried that having him help her with her sister was likely going to keep her from being able to shut the door to him ever again. That she would open herself up to emotions she’d tried to avoid, desires that had long simmered and a heartbreak she might never recover from. And pain along with it. The kind she knew she could cause him, just as she’d done to so many others.
Finding Nora, though, it would have to be worth it.
CHAPTER 5
There had been no sleep the night before. Jane had tried, of course, knowing she needed to be sharp the next day. Her adversary always was, after all. But thoughts of Nora plagued her. When she did briefly doze off, her dreams had been even worse. Her younger sister fighting off the same demons that had eventually claimed Jane, herself. Or worse.
Still, she didn’t feel tired as she stood at her window, watching down at the street below for Ripley and his phaeton to collect her. She’d had thoughts of him, too. Of his immediate offer of help and of his kiss that had brought both peace and even more confusion to her restless body.
She was surprised when a carriage stopped on the street before her shop. A customer? It was far too early for that, though she supposed they would see the sign she’d made and hung on the window, declaring the shop would be closed for the day.
But it wasn’t some stranger who stepped from the rig—it was Ripley. Even from a distance, she knew him. She had for years, knew the way his body moved, knew the way he held himself both in combat and at ease. And when he looked up toward her window, her heart skipped in a way it most definitely shouldn’t.
She turned away and hustled down, locking up after herself as she stepped up to him.
“Good morning, Jane,” he said softly as he reached out a hand to her. She took it and let him help her into the rig. He joined her, slipping into the seat across from her, his long legs edging into her space a fraction. Then he knocked on the carriage wall and they began to move.
“What is this?” she asked. “I thought you only had the phaeton.”
He smiled a fraction. “Keeping track of me, are you?”
She returned the smile and searched for the teasing pepper that had always led their relationship. She needed to get herself back together at least when it came to him. “You need a minder, I think.”
“You might not be wrong about that,” he said softly. “But the carriage isn’t mine. Brentwood has one. He married last year and his wife, Mariah, brought a little money and a carriage and driver to the settlement. Apparently her parents couldn’t imagine life without a rig.”
Jane pursed her lips. “Must be nice.”
“Isn’t it just? At any rate, he was kind enough to loan it to me, as I didn’t think you’d want to rumble along for half a day in the phaeton and I wasn’t certain I could find you a horse quickly enough.”
