Page 19 of How the Earl Entices

“Iknowyou’re a peer, those clothes notwithstanding. It’s clear in every inch of you.”

Just as he knew that she was no sailor’s widow. Stowing the papers carefully beneath his waistband at the small of his back, he turned to face her, then gestured at the knife. “You can put that down. I won’t hurt you.”

“So you say.” She kept it pointed at him. “Why did you lie about who you are?”

“How did you find out?” He snatched up the beef sandwich still sitting on the tea tray that she’d left beside the bed, most likely to torture him while he’d been tied up and unable to reach it. He hungrily sank his teeth into the sandwich and nearly groaned with pleasure. After so many days without food, the taste of it…ambrosia.

“We met once, a long time ago.”

He paused in mid-chew, his eyes narrowing on her.Impossible. He would have remembered a woman like her. “Where?”

“Mayfair. At a masquerade ball.”

He swallowed down the bite and laughed. “Masks?You’ll have to do better than that if you want me to believe that we—”

“You had just joined the army,” she interjected calmly, “so you didn’t deign to wear a mask, not for that ball. You wanted everyone to see you in your brand new uniform and shiny black boots. Your father, the Earl of Spalding, was incredibly proud of you for taking a commission, although most peers would have suffered apoplexy if their heirs put themselves in front of Boney the way you’d planned to do”

A prickle of unease snaked up his spine. No point in denying his identity. But who the hell was she that she’d been at a masquerade? “Lots of balls in Mayfair. You’ll have to be more specific.”

She shook her head, unwilling to divulge more. “You are Ross Carlisle,” she declared firmly, as if daring him to contradict her. “Everyone in Mayfair knows the Carlisles. For heaven’s sake, it isn’t as if any of you try to fade into the background.”

True, although more so his cousins than he and his brother. The Trent side of the family had certainly rained havoc upon England, while the Spalding side had fought to serve her. And look where it had gotten him. An accused traitor, hiding in some godforsaken fishing village with a lying widow. At knifepoint.

“While I don’t know what you’ve done to end up here or why anyone would chase you—nor do I care—I do know that if those wounds of yours are any indication of your last run-in with them, they will not hesitate to kill you if they catch you.” Her eyes glowed with a soft intensity in the dim light. “You need my help.”

Ross reached for the leftover cold tea and raised it slowly to his lips, assessing her over the rim of the cup. Why would she help him? “I told you that I was a criminal. How do you know that I won’t kill you to keep you quiet, now that you’ve untied me?”

Not at all afraid of him, she replied, “Because the man I knew wasn’t a murderer.”

More than you know. “Men change.”

“Not that much. Besides, if you wanted to harm me, you would have done so last night when you forced your way inside.” She folded up the knife and tossed it onto the bed beside him. “You’re not that kind of man. But youarewealthy and powerful with influential connections in Parliament. Most likely at court, too.”

Not anymore. “If I’m all that, why would I need your help?”

“Because you’re famished, covered in wounds, and two hundred miles from London without a farthing on you. Believe me, I know, because I’ve seen all of you.”

He grimaced at the reminder that she’d stripped him bare. And sadly, while he wasn’t awake to enjoy it.

“You have no way to hire coach nor horse, and if you felt desperate enough to force your way into my cottage last night in order to hide from whoever is chasing you, then simply walking on the roads puts you in danger of being recognized. Or arrested for vagrancy, once you’re seen wearing those filthy clothes.” She squared her slender shoulders with the resolve of a man walking to the gallows—one with nothing to lose. “IfIcould recognize you, despite ten years and all that beard, then the men who want you dead would certainly have no trouble.”

Damn her, she was right. “How could you help me with any of that? Feeling charitable enough to purchase me a seat on the mail coach, are you?”

She shook her head. “They’ll be watching the stage routes. Go as you are, and you’ll be spotted before you reach the first inn.” She said that with a well-practiced assurance, as if she’d known when she’d burst through the cottage door what she would propose. “You need money from me to hire a post-chaise, and you need me to come with you in order to disguise you. They won’t be looking for a couple traveling together.”

He laughed at that, nearly choking on the last bite of the beef.

But she wasn’t laughing, and her eyes lacked that teasing glint he’d come to appreciate.Good God—

“You’re serious.” His laughter died when she didn’t contradict him. “And utterly mad.”

She ignored that. “Once we’re in London, you’ll repay me in kind.”

A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Extortion, is it?”

“Extortion, blackmail…call it whatever you’d like.” She shrugged, her gaze never leaving his. “But you’ll agree to it, or I will let you rot right here, trapped in Sea Haven until those men who attacked you arrive to finish the job.”

Well. She certainly had spine. He would have admired her for it, if her offer to help him weren’t so ludicrous.