Her Reluctant Viscount (Rakes and Rogues) Read online

  “You are safe, Miss Adrys. You have nothing to fear from me.”

  She did not know what to say. She wanted to demand he put her down but by the time her tried brain composed her statement, he had opened the door to a bedroom and set her down. The reality of it all hit her. Unchaperoned and alone in a bedroom with a man she had just met.

  What have I done?

  § § §

  “Where is she?”

  Clara crossed her arms and turned her back on the tall, powerful man glaring down at her. She worried her lower lip and dug her nails into her palms. Had she truly done the best thing for her friend? Yes. She had to believe that Jo was not one of many friends she had, she was basically her only friend. Her other was whom they were heading toward when they separated.

  Being heavier than most, Clara had not exactly been highly pursued. Yes, she was the daughter of a viscount, the fourth actually. Family as well as any possible or potential suitors tended to overlook her. Never got overlooked when people wanted to pick on someone, however.

  When she met Jo, an instant friendship had been born. Jo knew things not even people in her family knew. She will be fine. The words although said mentally helped her feel better. Jo did not want to be found and she would not be the one who gave away her location.

  “It is foolish to keep silent about this.” He repositioned himself before her.

  Captain Bottomley had not been pleased when he arrived and found her here that was obvious. Demanding a private room, he had growled at her to tell what she knew. As of yet, she had not said a word. Instead, she watched the man as he loomed before her. No matter how many times she turned, he found a way to impress himself in her line of sight.

  He was a large man. Broad shoulders, strong legs, and regardless of him having only one arm, he seemed extremely capable. Honestly, he had always scared her a bit. When she saw him normally, Major McCutcheon accompanied him. The major was much softer, not that he was boyish, just without the extreme edge Royce had.

  “Woman,” he growled. “Are you going to talk? We are trying to protect her.”

  “Is that why she was used as bait and almost killed?” She tipped her head back and met his gaze.

  “So, you do speak.” His eyes bore into hers, not at all impressed or intimidated by her.

  “When it is important.”

  “This is.”

  “No. You and your clandestine group could not keep her safe.” His brief jerk almost made her smile. “Jo told me all about it. She is safe now.” At least I hope so.

  “It is dangerous to throw things like that around, little girl.”

  A flicker of amusement spread through her. Was she insane or did she find some pleasure in sparring with this man. “Little girl? Am I regressing? I was a woman a mere moment ago.”

  His grumble had her biting her cheek inside to keep from smiling. I must be crazy thinking of laughing at this time especially with this man. One of the most serious men she had ever met. She had often wondered if he could smile. Not that she spent time thinking about him. Perhaps her feeling was because she had the power and he needed her.

  Poor thought, Clara. Your friend is in danger. Her brain admonished her.

  “Just because I have only one arm does not make me any less, Miss Field. I am perfectly aware you are a woman.”

  Mortification slammed her. Oh, dear Lord, that’s how he viewed her statement? Instantly contrite she jerked to her feet and grabbed his one arm.

  “I meant no such thing, Captain. I…” Really, what could she say? “…I should have chosen my words with more caution.”

  “How sorry?”

  Her guard went up. “Not enough to tell you anything.” She made her way to the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Secure a room for the night.” She waved a hand as thunder rumbled. “Does not seem a night fit for travel.” Plus I have no idea how I will get back. Clara swept from the room with much more bravado than she felt.

  “Everything okay, miss?” the proprietor’s wife asked.

  “Yes. I just need to step out for a moment.”

  She hurried to the door and left. Several people glanced at her and she took a deep breath before smoothing down her skirts. The sky had grown dark and the winds blew harder, carrying with it the scent of rain. Be safe, Jo.

  Sure enough, big fat drops soon fell from the sky and she went back in. Weaving through the tables she made her way to the bar. Two of the men nearest to her watched her with leers on their faces. Swallowing, she gave them a perfunctory nod and waited for either the proprietor or his wife to reappear. A barmaid sidled past.

  “Look a bit proper to be wantin’ some work.”

  “Not after work, just a room for the night.”

  “I can give you a room,” one of the men chortled as he made a lewd gesture, causing those around him to laugh raucously.

  “Tommy, you leave her alone. She is a respectable woman.” The wife came from the kitchens with a scowl on her face.

  “She is a lone woman in here. How respectable can she be?”

  “She is not alone you fool. And this place is perfectly respectable. No need to worry about a room, dear. Your husband took care of it.”

  Her heart thundered and something akin to panic settled in her gut. Husband. Surely, he would not do such a thing.

  “Husband? If she were married, he would be here too.”

  “I am.” The deep voice came from behind her.

  She could feel him there, the warmth from Royce’s body radiating to hers. Clara turned slightly and saw him so close to her. A fierce scowl on his face added to the menace he exuded. She was mesmerized. By most accounts, he had been at a disadvantage only having the one arm, but she knew it was not the case.

  He moved his stare from those around her to her face and she almost shrank back. Royce held out his hand. “Come, wife. Our room awaits. We shall return for meals shortly.”

  Swallowing her fear, she placed her hand in his knowing there was no refusal she could give. His grip was like the rest of him—strong and sure. He tugged and she went realizing her life might have forever changed. He kept up a solid pace as they went up the stairs. He held the door for her and she slipped by him. The click of the door only reinforced the situation she currently found herself in. Oh Jo, how I wish I were with you.

  § § §

  Tryst had picked north second. He had ridden to the east first and had wasted a bunch of time when he finally realized that no one had seen anyone fitting either Jo or Clara’s description. Now he made his way toward the Scottish border. The severe storm had delayed him even longer. He could feel the power crackling through the air. Even Ptolemy was not having any of it so he had to wait it out.

  He caught a break and his stallion thundered up the nasty roads. The mud tried to slow them but thankfully, his horse was a strong brute and made good time. Still, he was not happy with how things had turned out. A myriad of scenarios played out before his mind’s eye. None of them good for Jo’s sake.

  Jo should not be in danger and every time he thought about it—quite often unfortunately—he grew even angrier. With the situation. More importantly, with himself. I should have told her the truth from the very beginning. However, he had not, he had followed the oath he had taken all those years ago to never discuss what he did.

  She is different.

  True enough, Jo was. He had known that the moment he laid eyes upon her standing in Colin’s house. It had been a low punch to the gut. She was so vibrant, so honest with her emotions. Everything he was not. He admired her for it. In addition, he was a bit jealous. He had watched with pride as she stood tall under the ton’s scrutiny never letting them get to her.

  Then there was her fire and beauty. This was no woman raised to fear the sun on her skin. Jo had grown up in Africa, spoke several languages, and could more than aptly handle herself. Enthralled? Yes. Completely. He tried to stay away but she was an addiction he could not seem to get enough o
f.

  Ptolemy stumbled, snatching his attention from thoughts of the lovely Josephine Adrys. Drawing back on the reins, he settled a hand along his stallion’s muscled neck. “Easy boy.” The horse’s sides heaved and Tryst kept him at a slower pace allowing him to cool down and catch his breath a bit more.

  It was late evening when he came to a small inn, tavern mix. A cold wind picked up bringing with it the promise of more rain and he groaned. He needed to press on but Ptolemy deserved a good rest. Tossing the reins to a waiting lad as he dismounted, he ordered, “Feed him well. Keep him away from others.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Ptolemy was a good horse but he was still a stallion and he knew he could get away with things when not with Trystan. There were times he would just snap for no reason. Trystan headed inside the moment his horse vanished from view. Barely pausing inside the door, he cast a glance around taking notice of everyone there. It was such an ingrained habit he had people did not notice.

  Familiar faces caught his eye and he headed toward the table they ate at. “Royce,” he said when he got there. “Miss Field.”

  His heart beat faster. Clara was always with Jo. The two had become nearly inseparable. Both stared at him and he withdrew a chair, sitting without waiting for an invitation.

  “Where is she?” he blurted with determination.

  “She refuses to tell me,” Royce replied. He ripped off a piece of bread and sopped up his stew with it.

  He gave Clara his full attention. Pretty chit. Considered on the shelf now. Much like Jo was. A bit “healthier” than many of the others her age but she was a beautiful woman. Jo and she had become fast friends.

  “Where is she, Clara?”

  “I do not know. And,” she continued before he could say anything else. “I would not tell you if I knew.”

  She was lying and he released a grumble of discontent. Clara blinked and went back to eating. He had expected her to at least appear concerned.

  “I want to protect her,” Trystan confessed.

  That statement elicited a response. Glaring and growling did nothing but saying he wanted to protect Jo did.

  She sat down her spoon and focused all her attention on him. Her eyes were sharp and calculating as she stared at him. After a deep breath, she leaned forward a bit. “As I told Captain Bottomley before, your ‘protection’ is what nearly got her killed. She is better off without you and I am not going to help you.”

  He clenched his fists. “I need to find her, Miss Field. This is not a game. These men want her dead. I am her friend.”

  “So you say.”

  Frustration mounted. “I did what I was ordered to do. Now, I need to find her.”

  Clara stood followed immediately by Royce. “Seems to me you need to figure out what is more important to you. Using her as bait or, as you claim, keeping your friend safe.”

  He shoved to his feet, her words striking a powerful chord within him. “Do not tell me how to do my job.”

  Clara never even flinched from the fury in his voice. “And that is the problem, you look upon Jo as a job. I do not. Therefore you should not presume to tell me what is best for my friend.” She left in a swish of skirts, departing from the room as if she had been holding court.

  Tryst sat back with a thump. He had assumed the second he saw Clara, Jo would be within reach. Quickly. Not so. Clara refused to assist and he still had no clue where Jo was and time clicked on.

  “Has she said anything to you?” he asked Royce.

  “No. I am sorry, Tryst. Had I gotten here a bit sooner…”

  “This is my mess, Royce. I have no one to blame other than myself.” Blame which would increase if anything happened to Jo.

  A figure blocked out the meager light, which streamed through grimy windows. Both men looked up to find the proprietor of the establishment.

  “Yes?” Trystan asked.

  “Forgive the interruption but I could not help overhearing you were looking for the woman who had travelled with the captain’s wife.”

  He lifted his brow and glanced at Royce. The man gave a shake of his head. Definitely more to learn there. Right now, however, his focus was on Jo and any information he could find on her.

  “You know where she went?”Trystan demanded.

  “She left with Mr. Pillster. He handles the post chaise. His next stop would be Oak Bridge.”

  “Thank you.” He had to leave now and would hopefully be there soon. “Have my horse readied.”

  “There is no way to make it there without going a few days out of your way. With that last nasty storm, the bridge got washed away. But if you get to Oak Bridge they may be of some help in locating her,” the proprietor responded.

  “Leave my horse then.” Trystan flipped him a coin for his information and watched it disappear quickly. He waited until the man left them alone and met Royce’s gaze. “Wife?” He did his best to ignore the need to leave immediately.

  Royce blew out a sharp breath. “She is a lot more trouble than I expected her to be.”

  Despite the gravity of this situation, he found a slight grin on his face. “So, you of course claimed her as your wife.” Was it his imagination or did Royce blush?

  “Crazy woman would have gotten herself hurt or worse, by herself.”

  Personally, he was not so sure about that anymore. He had severely underestimated Jo and apparently, Clara was made of more than first glance told a person. “You can get her home?”

  “Of course. Are you staying?”

  “For the night. Ptolemy could use a good rest and honestly, so could I. I will head out in the morning and check on the bridge. I cannot let her continue to be unprotected.”

  “We are heading back today. Would you like me to head up here after and meet you?”

  Part of him wanted to say yes. To have a man he trusted at his back. Another set of eyes on Jo to help ensure her safety. It sounded perfect.

  “No. I think if we can keep a low profile then we may be safer.”

  Royce nodded. “You need me, send word.”

  “Will do.” He rose. “I need to secure a room.” Tryst walked off trying to ignore the uncertainty welling up within him. I just need to see her and I will feel better. He hoped.

  Once he acquired a room for the night, he went outside in an attempt to calm his overactive nerves. Never before had a mission made him feel like this. However, it had not ever been about Jo before either.

  He leaned against a tree and sighed as he watched Clara and Royce have an intense argument off to the side. He had apparently been wrong about Clara as well for she had attitude. Her protectiveness of Jo made him happy except he really needed to locate her. He said farewell to Royce as he and his “wife” headed back to London in a rented coach.

  The next morning he ate early and slipped off to grab his horse. He waved off a stable lad who had come to with a rough jerk. He paused before the stall which held his stallion. A light whicker reached him.

  “Morning, boy.”

  He scratched the stallion between the eyes. Ptolemy looked much better and soon he was saddled and they were on their way. When he reached the spot the bridge had been he muttered words not fit for polite company. No one was around who appeared as though they were working on rebuilding.

  Turning Ptolemy upstream, he snapped the reins and they set off, following the river. There had to be a place to cross, or narrow enough Ptolemy could jump it safely. He would not be backtracking if he could help it.

  Chapter Five

  Blessedly back in the country. I rode Fineas today. He runs like the wind. I much prefer to ride astride as I am wont to do upon the coal black stallion.

  ~From the private journal of Josephine Adrys

  Jo sighed as she stepped outside the small crofter’s hut she had been staying in. She truly hoped Clara was all right. Callum Blackwood had been a perfect gentleman. The day after she barged into his house he had escorted her to this small place telling her she could stay as long as she
needed. Not having gone with much it did not take her long to settle in. Moreover, she had been here for a week now and was comfortable.

  Today she was going into town for a few supplies. Readjusting the basket on her arm she set off, the warm sun upon her shoulders. She had just left the baker’s when a large horse stepped in front of her, halting her. Squinting against the glare of the sun, she peered up past the large black mount. Callum sat there.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Blackwood.”

  “Miss Adrys.” He touched his hat.