“I love you, Adoniram. You are the best of Wycliff and Adam.”
He kissed her brow. “Just tell no one of that name.”
“Are you the only one with such a horrible name?”
“Well, let’s see. My father is Algernon Nathaniel Wilkinson.”
She laughed a little. “That’s not so bad.”
And Nickie was Aylmer Nicholas Wilkinson…ANW. He wouldn’t say the scourge’s name aloud, but that was the answer.
ANW.That was why the accounts had never changed. Nickie had been the embezzler for Johnson.
He kissed her temples. “You’re brilliant.”
“Why, because I ordered you to bed with me?”
“Well, that is genius, but I think you solved the problem. I know how to make the last culprit pay.”
“I don’t want to talk about him. And not while I’m in your bed.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and held her tight. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her smile returned. “We need to discuss marrying. You need to make me your wife again. I want that. This is pretty scandalous, the Baron of Wycliff and his bed wench.”
“What if I told you that I didn’t exactly burn your half of the registry? That it may have been a sleight of hand and your mother’sMorning Postwas destroyed instead.”
“Adoniram? You manipulative thing.”
“Ruth, my only defense is that I’m too much in love with you to ever let you go. I love you, sweetheart, even when I am mad at the world.”
“I’m glad we’re married. I’m not the kind of woman to stay with a bachelor, and definitely not in his arms.”
“You rest and get used to these arms again. But cousin Wycliff needs to marry Mrs. Wilky in a public event. No more hiding for us.”
She stroked his beard, her fingers stopping upon his mouth. “I know you are plotting. I want to be there, Wycliff. I want to see the fear in my enemy’s eyes when he’s caught.”
“Ruth, I don’t know. Your eyesight is pretty poor. I don’t want him that close to you, definitely not in your face.”
“I need to see it.”
She did need to see it, needed to witness Nickie punished for his violence. “I should’ve taught you how to use the sjambok so you could whip the fool. Keep your folding knife on you. That cute little weapon could offer a bit of protection.”
“It’s my father’s. It’s purposely discreet.” She rubbed his beard, where it curled about his jaw. “I need to see him brought to justice.”
“I’ll try, but if you can’t… If you feel drained or tired, you must leave my study. You come back up here, snuggle under these bedsheets, and wait for me.”
She put her arms about his chest and held him tight. “I will. Thank you for trusting me to know my own mind.”
He did, and he knew she had to see Nickie’s downfall. Wycliff tucked her onto his shoulder and tried to relax. Tomorrow, he’d begin sending for people, making the right offers.
Judgement would come for Uncle Soulden and Nicholas. It would, if everything finally went according to his plan.
It had to be well past midnight. Wycliff blinked and adjusted to the darkness of his bedchamber. The candle had died. He should stretch and light it again, but Ruth remained snuggled in his arms. She breathed warm air onto his scars.
He’d closed his eyes several times but jolted awake every few minutes to check on her—to see if she was truly here, to see if she was frightened, to see if this was all a cruel dream and he was still captive on the HMSLiverpool.
It wasn’t possible to push out of his head the horror she’d lived through. Leaning a little, pulling free a little, he scooped up a match and struck it. The sulfur smell chased away the scent of roses coming from her hair.
