Asher glanced around before motioning toward a boy of about thirteen. He stepped forward with confidence, and Asher asked him to provide the driver with a message when he returned. He nodded, and Asher pressed a coin into his palm.
“Come,” he said, turning and holding his gloved hand out to Evelyn, who gladly took it.
As he led her down the street, she realized that she never wanted to let go. When she had been threatened in the carriage, she had wanted to escape, yes. But instinctively she had known, deep within, that Asher was where safety lay. All she had to do was get to him, and she would be fine.
Just as she had been.
Despite his outward calm,Asher was still trying to steady his racing heart.
They had been watched, and he was well aware that Evelyn was meant to be frightened at the very least, taken at the worst.
He rubbed his brow, trying to make sense of the situation — and his wife.
She was not only fearless but also precise. Determined. She hadn’t shied away from the danger but had run toward it — for him.
Evelyn looked up at him. “We will have to be careful. They were not subtle.”
He shook his head. “Not in the least.”
She was not a woman to be shielded, he realized. She was a woman to be trusted.
They walked down the side of the road, and when he looked up, it was to find a large group of men walking toward them. They could be anyone — workers, likely leaving a shift — but he wasn’t going to take that chance. Not with Evelyn.
He looked to his left and, at the last moment, pulled Evelyn into what appeared to be a recessed doorway of an abandoned building.
“What is this?” Evelyn asked. “What are we doing?”
“Shh,” he said, placing a finger against her lips. “I want to see who these men are — if they are here for us or simply going about their day.”
Her body was pressed against his again, and this time she didn’t burrow her head into him but instead looked up at him brazenly. Her hands slipped into the sleeves of his jacket, her gloved fingers dancing over his arms.
“You shouldn’t have had to save me,” he muttered, shaking his head, still berating himself for putting her in such a position.
“Why not?” she challenged him, her eyes bright, determined. “You would do the same for me.”
“Yes, but I’m your husband. That’s my responsibility.”
There it was, the weight of the word lying between them. And yet… the thought of anyone else taking on that honor for her had become unthinkable.
“Part of being married, I suppose,” he said slowly, “is that we take this danger on together now. Move forward.”
She nodded slowly.
“I don’t want to be your duty,” she said.
“You’re not a duty,” he murmured. “You’re a… commitment.”
“That could be taken many different ways,” she said, arching a brow as the moment between them stretched.
He stared at her, lost for words, feeling relief that she was safe. Respect that she was just as committed to him as he was to her.
And a wanting that was becoming impossible to ignore.
He tilted his head a few inches, pausing, staring at her lips, nearly falling apart when her pink tongue reached out and licked her bottom lip.
He nearly met those lips with his, but he waited a beat, giving her the choice.
“Evelyn?” His voice was low, more hesitant than he had ever been with a woman before. But he couldn’t get this wrong. He rested his hand on her lower back, pressing her close, and she inhaled sharply.
