Soft fingers found the knots binding him to the chair, sending a jolt of awareness through him. Her touch brushed his skin time and again as she worked the rope free, and against all reason, he wished the task might take longer.
“I left the warehouse but found that I could not abandon you.” A small sigh. One hard tug, and then he was free. He rubbed the raw places where the rope had bitten, ignoring the sting as he turned to find Kate. Even in her plain gown, windblown hair framing her face, she was breathtaking.
“Why?” His curiosity overwhelmed his anger and the pressing urgency to leave before the guards returned. He needed to know why she had come back. A reckless, terrifying suspicion took hold. If she had done it out of loyalty or gratitude, he could manage that. But if she had come back for another reason—one that looked dangerously like devotion—he was truly lost.
Facing her, he dared her to look away first. His pulse roared in his ears. His question came in the softest of whispers. “Why, Kate?”
Say it.
James closed the distance between them, the hem of Kate’s dress brushing the tops of his boots. He inclined his head. Her gaze dropped to his lips. His blood raced. Her mouth opened but no words came. He ignored his instincts telling him to glance at the door or the man on the floor. Nothing in the world mattered right now as much as what Kate would say to him.
Kate took a deep breath and then shrugged. “In the future, I may need assistance from someone who can pick locks,” she said, a smile on her lips. “And since you are the only person I know with that peculiar skill, I decided a rescue was in order. I found a crate near the dock with a loose lid and borrowed a bottle of wine to aid me in my attempt.”
Confound it, he laughed despite the danger. The sound felt foreign in the small damp room. What had Kate done to him?
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “We need to leave before the other guards return or he wakes up.” James tilted his head in the direction of the man on the floor.
James opened the door far enough that agitated voices carried from somewhere beyond the warehouse. Once the other guards found their companion unconscious, James and Kate would have only a narrow lead before another search began.
They walked into the pale morning light and kept close to the rear wall, weaving through a maze of barrels and wagons. The morning’s work on the docks had begun in earnest, but the workers were too occupied with their own loads to notice two figures slipping past.
Kate did not falter. She moved with a purpose that matched his own. Even when they heard voices around the corner. Even when he pulled her behind a stack of crates and held her there until the way was clear.
By the time they reached the first quiet street beyond the docks, James could no longer ignore the truth. Kate was more than she seemed. She had followed him from the inn, deciphered codes, deceived a guard, and returned for him when she could have escaped.
And that was just today.
He was not the only one with secrets. Kate held cards he had not even known were in play.
They made their way back to the inn as the sun rose in the winter sky and the city stirred. Having Kate beside him after facing danger together felt natural. It was both thrillingly new and strangely familiar.
When they entered the common room of the inn, Tess was waiting. She rose from her chair, striding toward Kate with purpose, both relief and anger plain as she surveyed her charge. James was glad to know Kate had another protector.
“Lady Katherine, I believe it is time to pay your aunt a visit,” James said. “Would it suit you to depart within a few hours?” He did not want to linger in town, especially with the chance Kate would be recognized by someone from the warehouse. The sooner they reached Lady Hawthorne’s, the sooner they could examine the ledger pages Kate had copied for any connection to Henry’s death.
Kate readily agreed, and she and her maid disappeared to their quarters. James asked for a tray of food to be brought to his room so he could attend to his wounds before their journey. After informing the coachman of their intention to depart, James retreated to his private quarters. The smell of fresh bread, cold ham, eggs, and tea greeted him, and his stomach growled in anticipation. He was gratified to find they had also provided honey for his tea. Setting the tray on the side table by his bed, he savored a few mouthfuls of the soft bread before removing his waistcoat and cravat.
He pulled his shirt off over his head, his torso protesting at the movement. Sucking in a sharp breath, he examined the area and moved his arms back and forth. There would be a dark bruise and some lingering soreness, but no serious injuries. A brisk knock sounded at the door, likely a manservant come to ask if he required anything else. Good. He would ask for some salve for the raw places on his wrists.
But when he opened the door, it was Kate who stood before him.
“I asked—” Her words froze. For one suspended moment, she seemed entirely arrested by the sight of his bare chest, and he could not suppress a stir of masculine satisfaction at the blush that flooded her face. Then the color faded from her cheeks as she took in the darkening bruise along his torso.
“Kate.” He leaned against the door frame, folding his arms over his chest before she could examine his injuries too closely.“I thought you would be resting after our late-night adventures.” He had not meant to flirt, but seeing her blush deepen even further, he found he couldn’t regret it.
“I, uh—” She cleared her throat, her chin lifting with resolve. “I noticed the ropes had rubbed at your wrists, and I was not certain what other injuries you may have suffered, so I inquired after some salve from the innkeeper.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” He reached for the jar she clutched, but she pulled it tight against her chest.
“Would you allow me to inspect your wounds?” she asked with determination. “I often help tend to our servants and tenants.”
He lifted a brow. “You do not trust me to manage myself? This is not the first time I have been injured.”
“Precisely. I have seen you injured three times now in almost as many weeks, and I need to reassure myself that you will not aggravate your wound on the road.” Her playful tone was tinged with worry, and the defenses that he had spent years fortifying began, at last, to give way. He was accustomed to tending his own wounds in silence, hiding the cost of his work from anyone who might care enough to ask. But Kate stood before him, salve in her hands and concern in her eyes, and he found himself craving the comfort she offered.
Letting her into his chamber might be a blunder of sizable proportions, but he could not deny her. He drew back, sweeping his arm in a welcoming gesture while pointedly leaving the door ajar.
“The chair, please,” she said firmly.
