‘People might speculate and…’ Grace wasn’t sure which woman said that, but they were entirely right.
‘We will send her carriage home to give every impression she has left us, and therefore avoid any gossip,’ said Tobias, ‘but she will stay. It is not safe, and protecting her from harm has to come above all otherconsiderations.’ His tone brooked no argument, and nobody voiced any further concern.
Grace should say something, but it felt to her as if the events were happening in a parallel existence to her own. She could hear people moving about, could make out words and the rise and fall of conversation, but she could not make sense of any of it. She knew she should not stay, but a heaviness was settling on her limbs, making movement impossible. Once again, Charlotte, her beloved niece, was under threat, and once again it was the fault of Grace’s parents. The two people who should love their daughter and granddaughter, but who didn’t.
She had no idea how much time had passed, but the sky was taking an orangey glow when she heard someone speaking her name once more.
‘Grace.’
She didn’t move.
‘Grace.’
Tobias appeared in front of her, bending his knees so that his face was on a level with hers. ‘Grace,’ he said again. ‘My housekeeper is ready to show you to your room.’
She licked her lips. ‘I cannot stay here.’ Her voice sounded croaky, as if she had not used it for days, months even.
‘No one will ever know,’ he said softly. ‘Not one of us will breathe a word of it.’
‘It is not that. I do not care about gossip. All that matters is Charlotte. If I am here, I put her in danger.’
Those dark eyes fixed on her, warmth and security in a frozen landscape. ‘I do not know how you have come to that conclusion. You are not your parents and you are not sending them some sort of signal to entice them to your location.’
‘I am bad luck. I…’
‘I will no doubt get some cross words from you at a later date for this when you are back to yourself, but what I think is clouding your judgement right now is exhaustion from the horrible situation, not to mention the late hour. When you have had some sleep, you will realise that it is not possible for you to be bad luck. You have been instrumental in keeping our niece safe at all times. She is thriving and that is all down to you and the sacrifices you have made.’
She was shaking her head before he had finished speaking; how was it that he didn’t understand? ‘No. It is my fault my parents are in England. They would not have known where to look if I had not travelled here.’
‘Did you inform them of your plans?’
‘No.’
‘Did you tell anyone else?’
‘No, but…’
‘Then your parents may not even know you are in England. They are not moving about in Society, so they may not have seen you and you are not living here under the name they know you as. Their presence is unlikely to be anything to do with you at all. It is far more likely that the English investigator we sent to America alerted them to Charlotte’s location. Now, can you walk?’
She could only blink at him; she heard the question but did not quite grasp its relevance until his arms were scooping her out of the chair.
‘Oh,’ she said, flinging her arms around his neck. ‘This is very…’ Lovely, delicious, scandalous. ‘I can walk.’
‘Humour me,’ said Tobias. ‘I am fighting a very primal urge not to lock everyone I care about in one room and then stalk the streets ofLondon until I find the very thing threatening them. Carrying you assuages that urge somewhat.’
The rooms he carried her through were empty, the house still. The others must have left for their own rooms at some point, and the servants were discreetly elsewhere. He was lifting her as if she weighed nothing, barely even sparing her a glance as he strode through the grand rooms. It gave her a chance to study him. Purple smudges under his eyes were the only sign he was tired. A hint of a beard was forming on his normally close-shaven jaw, but otherwise there was no sign that he had held a stranger to the ground after the man had tried to gain entry to his home.
‘Tobias,’ she murmured, when he reached the bottom of a wide staircase. ‘Are you all right?’
He paused, his foot on the bottom step. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Are you scared?’ Once the words were out, she felt foolish. Of course he wasn’t. The gut-wrenching terror she was feeling was all her. ‘Sorry, that was a silly question. Ignore me. I am very tired.’
He adjusted his grip and the delicious scent of him washed over her. She wanted to bury her nose in the crook of his neck. Thankfully, she held herself still. It was one thing to be related to murderous, duplicitous criminals, but to add to that by acting like a woman devoid of wits was not something she was keen to do. She should point out that she could climb the stairs by herself now, but she wasn’t ready to let go of him yet.
‘I am sure that fear will come,’ he said, as he slowly began to climb. ‘Right now, I am feeling a lot of other things.’
‘Like what?’ she asked before she could stop herself from being too presumptuous.
