Page 42
She slid a gaze to Roxina, staring at Shelby as if he had two heads from which sprouted four scarlet horns. Grinning, Shelby sank onto one of the newly vacated chairs and sent his flinty gaze around the common room. He waved a hand. “As you were.”
The weary patrons went back to their activities, most behaving as if nothing remarkable had just occurred.
Jack didn’t tear his gaze from the duo until the door closed. He crossed his arms and stared at Aubriella, his expression inscrutable. “We are going to warm ourselves and eat, ladies. Then we are leaving. The horses should have rested enough by then. Understood?”
Aubriella opened her mouth to argue, but the thunderous look in Jack’s hazel eyes made her snap her mouth shut. He extended his hands and helped them up. He released Roxina as soon as she stood, but held Aubriella immobile as Roxina crossed to the table and sat.
The serving wench returned with a laden platter. She placed a stretcher with sliced brown bread, cheese, and what appeared to be meat pies on the scarred tabletop. A teapot and chipped teacups followed.
Jack turned his back to the curious travelers. “You shall have the entire ride, seated before me on a horse, Aubrie, to explain your idiotic behavior.”
“I owe you no explanation, Jack.” He wasn’t her keeper, even if he had rescued her. “Besides, don’t you have urgent business in London that demands your attention?”
“I do, and that is why we are not returning to the Templetons but continuing to London tonight.” Jack flared his nostrils, and his cheekbones stood out as harshness contorted the planes of his face. “I am barely keeping my temper under control. You and Roxina were on the verge of being ravished. Your stupidity not only endangered you, but your friend. For once in your life, do not argue with me, or so help me God, I shall find an empty room and paddle your bottom.”
Aubriella couldn’t prevent her jaw from sagging.
How dare he?
Who did he think he was?
She wasn’t a child he could take to task and spank.
“You wouldn’t dare.” She tilted her chin in defiance. “Besides, there are no vacant rooms.”
He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Do. Not. Push me, Aubriella. I am at the end of my tether.” His expression softened, and he caressed her cheek. “I was terrified for you, and I blamed myself for your leaving. If anything had happened to you…”
He closed his eyes, his features etched in agony—as if he truly cared.
For once, Aubriella didn’t have a cutting riposte. For as long as she lived, she’d remember his face at that moment. And when he opened his eyes, her soul quivered from the desolation shining there.
