Page 24 of How the Earl Entices

Ross slammed the door closed after him.

Grace sank against the bedroom doorframe, her arm falling to her side and the pistol dropping to the floor with a quiet clatter. All of her shook violently with equal parts fear and relief.

He crossed to her and cupped her face between his hands, his eyes narrowing as they swept over her. “Are you all right?”

She gave a jerking nod. “Fine.”

He grimaced, recognizing that for the lie it was, yet softly stroked her cheek. That did more to reassure her than all the fists and weapons of moments earlier.

Until she saw the blood on his arm.

“You’ve torn your stitches,” she whispered, reaching a shaking hand toward him.

“It’s nothing,” he dismissed quietly, shifting his arm just out of her reach. He gently chastised, “I told you to stay put.”

“But you didn’t take your pistol with you.”

“Because that pistol went into the Channel with me. The charge is useless.” He bent down and picked it up, then frowned as he cautiously eased down the still-cocked hammer. “But let’s not take any chances.”

Her mouth fell open. If that pistol didn’t work, then last night when he’d forced his way into her cottage by gunpoint—

She snapped her mouth shut and scowled furiously. “Why you lying, conniving devil of a—aCarlisle!”

“You can yell at me later.” He pointed at the shards of broken window on the floor and the shutter hanging half-twisted from the casement where the young man had pried it open to break in. “We need to leave.”

A chill slithered down her spine. “But he’s so young! He can’t be one of the men who are after you.”

“He’s not. Just opportunistic. Most likely he was walking by, thought the cottage was empty because of the storm, and decided to commit a quick robbery.” His expression turned grim. “But he saw my face.”

“Why should that matter, if he’s not chasing you?”

“It matters.” His eyes narrowed on her, once more sizing her up. At that look, the prickling suspicion at her knees grew into full-out apprehension. “If you’re serious about helping me, we have to leave. Now.”

“I’m very serious.” Once again she felt a ribbon of connection winding between them, pulling her toward him.

“Then pack your things.” He nodded toward her bedroom. “We’re late for London.”

Chapter 8

Keeping his face down and his collar high, Ross placed his hand on the small of Grace’s back as he followed her into the apothecary shop on the village’s High Street. If the British ambassador had already gotten word to London and England had declared him a traitor, then notices for his arrest would soon be plastered all along the coast. But the storm surely bought him a few days’ reprieve in the manhunt, and he prayed it would be enough to travel to London before word of what he’d done saturated the countryside. Before anyone else recognized him.

The bell on the door jingled softly as Grace shut it behind them.

“Alice?” She set down the little travel bag, the one she’d refused to pack until he’d agreed to let her bandage his arm. Tugging off her gloves and slipping them into the pocket of her coat, she moved past him to glance up the stairwell and called out, “Where are you?”

He gently took her elbow. “Is this necessary? The fewer people who see me, the better.”For everyone.

“Alice can be trusted.” She gazed grimly at him. “Besides, we need her.”

“Grace?” A woman entered from the backroom, wiping her hands on her apron as she circled the counter. “I didn’t expect you—” She saw Ross and froze, then forced a smile. “And with company.”

“Alice Walters, this is Christopher Thomas.” She didn’t stumble at all over his false name as she made quick introductions. “An old acquaintance from my London days.”

The woman’s smile vanished. She didn’t even bother at a pretense of welcome as her eyes narrowed. With her gaze fixed on him as if she didn’t trust him not to turn into a viper right then, she muttered to Grace, “Do I need to fetch my gun?”

Grace laughed, a genuine and soft sound that lilted through the room. Musical. And lovely. A man could certainly grow used to that sound.

“No.” She smiled at Ross as she placed a reassuring hand on her friend’s arm. “But perhaps you should keep a butcher knife at the ready, just in case.” Her eyes shined as she finished the introductions. “And this is Mrs. Walters, our local apothecary and the dearest woman in the world.” She gave her a brief hug. “Where’s Ethan?”