“What?”Tom’s gravelly voice rang out loudly, and the marquess stirred in her arms.
“You heard me,” Kate said, pushing her small frame under one of Wroth’s wide shoulders.“Now help me, Tom, before we’re both arrested.”
“And you think that kidnapping the gent’s going to help?”
“Lower your voice!I’m not going to kidnap him, just make sure that he doesn’t pop off.Now hurry,” Kate said, eyeing the man who had become much more than a servant in the past few years.Their gazes locked and held until Tom’s skidded away in resignation.Blowing out a disgruntled sigh, he heaved the marquess up and moved across the room.
“He ain’t no lightweight, this one,” he muttered as Kate slipped away to retrieve the errant pistol.She could see no blood upon the carpet, thankfully, and went swiftly to the window to help Tom lift Wroth through the opening.
“He’s got the looks of the devil himself, and muscles, besides,” Tom said, gasping for breath as he dragged the body out into the night.“You’re borrowing trouble with this one, Katie.Make no mistake about it.”
“You just get him to the coach,” she said.“I can handle the marquess.”
Kate’s confidence flagged when Tom draped Wroth over the cushioned seat and climbed out onto the box, leaving her alone with the injured man.He was still unconscious, and the front of his coat was soaked with blood, making Kate wonder whether he would survive the trip to Hargate.She leaned across the space between them to get a good look at his wound in the dim light of the interior lantern.
Probing the spot as gently as she could, Kate was relieved to find no sign of the bullet.He was lucky, for it appeared to have gone straight through his shoulder, but she still needed to stop the bleeding with something.She was shrugging out of her coat when a jolt sent Wroth sliding precariously near the cushioned edge.
Muttering one of Tom’s favorite oaths, Kate slid into the opposite seat and laid the marquess’ head on her lap.His dark lashes lifted, and he groaned before closing them again.
“Hang on, Wroth,” she said softly.Her lips trembled over his name, and she pursed them tightly together, angry at her reaction.Turning her grimy coat inside out, Kate pressed the clean lining to the wound while she tried to recapture the outrage that had driven her to his town house.
“If you had kept your breeches buttoned, you wouldn’t be in this predicament,” she whispered.But her soft tone robbed the accusation of its sharpness, and the shadowy confines of the coach seemed to close in on the two of them.Wroth stirred, turning his face toward her, and the movement heightened Kate’s awareness of him resting upon her thighs, his head cradled so intimately.
Her knowledge of males was limited to Tom and memories of her father, a rather distant but kindly figure.Vaguely she recollected the presence of stable boys and footmen, but they were nameless and faceless, long gone now.She had never been this close to a man in her life.
It was disturbing.Her breath grew ragged, and her fingers faltered as they held the cloth tightly to his shoulder.Under her palm, Kate could feel the muscles that spread from his broad chest, and she knew that this was no idle-rich dandy, but a strong, virile man.She shifted, dismayed, yet she could not escape the weight of him—or the feel of him.
Her cheeks flaming, Kate tried to concentrate on his sins, but, in all honesty, the Marquess of Wroth had surprised her.She had never expected her sister’s lover to be so mature, so confident, sodangerous.
He had caught her off guard with his dark good looks and the disdainful lift of his brow.Unfazed by her threats, he had stared, cool as you please, at the pistol she pointed at his heart.Apparently, he had just been waiting for his opportunity to strike.
Her color rose higher as Kate remembered the ease with which he had knocked her down and the way his body had covered hers.Hot and heavy and… something indescribable.Then his face had hovered over hers, shadowy with intent, and his hand had… Kate flinched, startled by the vivid recollection of his fingers closing upon her breast.
A strangled noise escaped from her throat as she realized how easily Lucy had been seduced.Although she had never blamed Lucy aloud, Kate had silently accused her many times.All those uncharitable thoughts about her sister’s lack of common sense and weakness of will returned to mock her.
For if this man, with his cool, confident air and his warm, competent hands, had been Lucy’s temptation, then Kate could well understand her sister’s submission.In fact, she found herself wondering just what it would be like to succumb to the shadowy promise in his clear eyes, to fall from grace with this dark angel.
Sometime during the trip home, Kate checked Wroth’s wound again.She had managed to stop the bleeding, and judging from the sound of his even breathing, she could abandon her immediate worry that he might die in the coach.However, his improved condition brought a new concern.Increasingly, Kate feared that he would wake up.
Several times she had seen his eyes flutter open, and once she could have sworn that he studied her with detached interest.Her nervous fingers had faltered then, pressing too hard against his ragged flesh, and he had gone off again with a groan.
Kate had felt guilty, but relieved.After all, what would she say if he was suddenly alive, awake, and coherent?Sorry I shot you, my lord, but now I plan to undo my mistake as best I can, if you’ll come along quietly?
Somehow, as she studied his handsome face in the dimness of the coach, Kate could not imagine this man coming along quietly.Ever.For the first time since entering the town house, she began to wonder if Tom was right.Perhaps she was borrowing trouble by taking on someone who looked as dangerous as the marquess.But what else could she do?
Kate was never more eager to see the soft light in her window, welcoming her home.Her relief at reaching her destination lasted until Tom pulled open the door of the coach, took one look at the marquess cradled in her lap and swore in disgust.
“Mind that you don’t find yourself in the same fix as your sister, Katie, girl,” he muttered.
Kate gave him a cold glance that conveyed just what she thought of his warning.“I’ve stopped the bleeding, but I’ll need to clean and dress the wound thoroughly if he’s not to pop off from a fever.You can put him in Papa’s old room.”
With a grunt of disapproval, Tom grabbed the marquess and heaved him half onto his back.
“Careful, now!”Kate couldn’t help admonishing Tom, although the glare he sent her made her want to call back the words.
Ignoring the coachman’s attitude, Kate jumped down and hurried toward the door.If they could get the marquess to bed without Lucy hearing, she could tend to his injury, find her own rest, and deal with her sister in the morning.
Unfortunately, her streak of bad luck was holding firm, for as soon as she opened the door she heard Lucy’s voice from the landing.“Katie, is that you?”her sister called, in a wavering whisper that made Kate feel guilty for having left her alone.
