Robert spread the note in front of him, staring at it.Had Bill been supporting a school?He looked at the stacks of ledgers, then to Eloise’s notes on the Maidstone estate, then to the bedchamber door.Had she found such information in this quagmire of paperwork?
“My little mouse.” He shook his head, added the note to the Maidstone stack, and unfolded the other three, the first from his father. Two lines, in Philip’s usual concise style:The gentlemen from this afternoon’s discussion have agreed to meet tomorrow. Word is spreading about your inheritance; avoid Makendon until I contact you.
Unsurprisingly, the second one was from Makendon, in equally precise language.Contracts sent to Kennet. Send word about divestitures by Saturday. Do not contact my family until that time.“Family,” Robert knew, meant Lydia. “I suppose that means I should not escort her to the Haverton Ball Friday night. I count myself devastated.” He smirked and set the letter aside.
He paused, realizing that had been his first sarcastic thought since Saturday night. It strangely cheered him, and he grinned as he reached for the last note, unfolding the page.
His smile faded. The message contained only a time and an address. At the bottom, a rough scrawl of a horse’s head trailed off the page.
Robert closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
So it begins.
*
Eloise awoke tothe soft brush of Robert’s lips against hers. She smiled without opening her eyes. “Do that again, please.”
His soft laugh, not much more than a whisper, tickled her ear as he nipped her earlobe. “Greedy mouse.”
Her eyes still closed, she wrapped her arms around him, once again intrigued by how his mere presence sent her desire soaring. She wanted him, more of him, to feel his skin against hers in the most intimate ways possible. But as her hands felt his silk shirt beneath her palms, Eloise opened her eyes with a pout. “You have on clothes.”
This time his laugh was louder, and he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. “I had to check on a few things. And it’s not as if we can stay in bed all evening.”
She raised up, propping on one elbow. “We could try.” She reached to cup his face with her other hand and noticed that his smile did not light his eyes. Her stomach clinched, and her hand dropped away from him. “You heard from them.”
A single nod. “Yes. I have a time and a location.”
Eloise threw the covers back and sat up. “I’m going with you.”
He stopped her with an arm around her waist. “The appointment is not for several hours.” When she relaxed, he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her forehead. “But you are not going with me.”
Eloise pushed back and glared at him. “You think I would go through all this and not see it to its end?”
“It’s too dangerous. And we do not know for certain if Timothy will be there.”
“So tell me why it is more dangerous for Edmund Surrey than Robert Ashton. You dare not say it is because I am a woman, because they will not know that.” He stared at her, but she did not relent. “And if Timothyisthere, give me one reason why he should trustyouto help him.”
Robert pulled away from her and stood, and his words took on a tone of desperation. “If he thinks I’m there to help, he will grasp at any straw. He will come with me, if he has even a shred of hope of getting out.”
“But he will—”
“I cannot let anything happen to you! Damn it, Eloise. I cannot lose anyone else I love!”
“But it is not your responsi—” Eloise’s voice skidded to a halt as his words of fear pierced her stubbornness. Her own words stuck in her throat, her eyes wide as she stared at him—at the heightened color over his cheekbones, the dark blush around his throat, his deep, almost labored breaths. The man was terrified—
Of losingme.
She rose from the bed and went to him. Eloise tugged gently on the fabric of his shirt near his shoulders. “This is not about me. Or you. It’s about Timothy. Yes, it’s dangerous. We both know that. So dangerous that you cannot do this alone. Because I cannot lose you either.”
He ran one hand through his hair, his fingers quivering. “Eloise—”
“You are not alone.”
Robert stilled, the muscles in his face relaxing. “What did you say?”
“Robert Ashton, you are not alone. You do not have to do this”—she waved one arm broadly, gesturing to the emporium and the world beyond—“alone. I do not know why or when or how someone convinced you otherwise—although I have a fairly good idea—but you do not have to handle all of this by yourself. You have friends. Your family—for all their foibles—are not going to abandon you completely. And you have me. Let me help you.” She paused, swallowed hard, and spoke the words she had not planned to—their time together was far too short—but she would not hold them back. Not now. “Let me love you in the best way I know how. Let me help.”
“Eloise—”
