Chapter Thirteen
Gunn had toleave the room for fear he would take Jocelyn right then and there. He wanted to. Och, he ached to do so. But he would wait.
She longed for him as much as he longed for her. She hadn’t said the words, but they showed in every action. Every look. Every sigh.
Once they arrived at Leyson, he made no promises as to how much self-control he would have. He wanted to get lost in her body for days in his own bedchamber. One that he would share with her.
Things needed to be taken care of first. The priority was her husband. Malcolm had made some headway before Gunn had called him back. He’d found their house in Rochester. Victor wasn’t there of course. As Jocelyn had mentioned, he had gone south to look for her.
According to his house staff, he was furious when he’d learned she’d run. He’d left in a tizzy and hadn’t returned yet.
He’d asked around the city to see what people thought about Jocelyn, but no one seemed to really ken her. She was rarely seen outside of the home. But when they did interact with her, she seemed nice, but quiet, reserved. She didn’t participate in any of the activities that other wives did. No bridge clubs or afternoon teas.
It angered Gunn to find out this information. It was like the louse was holding her prisoner in her own home. Though he was sure much of the reason why he kept her hidden was so that others in the city didn’t see the constant bruises she wore. Because it was obvious to him, that she was constantly bruised and battered.
Malcolm said the house was modest. Not large, but not small, either. It was well kept, and he employed a full staff, though none would speak of Jocelyn other than to say how angry Victor was when he’d found her gone.
Gunn would ensure she would never have reason to fear him. He vowed that on his life. And he’d give his before he would see her hurt again. He couldn’t change her past, but he could make sure that her future was only filled with love and happiness.
Malcolm caught him in the hall. “The carriages are ready. Once the ladies are finished their packing we can load the trunks and be on our way.”
“Jocelyn shouldna be much longer. The poor lass only had a small travel bag when she arrived. I had to bring her a trunk for her new wardrobe.”
“Ye are completely smitten with her. Lizzie was right.”
His friend wasn’t wrong. Gunn didn’t even bother trying to deny it any longer. He shrugged. “It all feels right.”
“She’s still married legally,” Malcolm warned. “E’en if she ran and her husband is a useless arse. The law wins on this one.”
“I ken that,” he snapped. He scrubbed his face, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I didna mean to be short. I understand the situation. ’Tis why I need all of us to get together and help me figure out how to solve it.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I dinna ken, but five minds are better than one, and between all of us, certainly we can come up with some viable plan.”
“Ye are daft.”
“Am I? If I recall, ye traveled the countryside to prove the innocence of a woman ye’d just met.”
“Hey. E’en ye have to admit she didn’t look like a thief.”
“True, but would I have done what ye did? I canna say for sure, but probably no’.” He barked out a laugh and Malcolm punched him in the shoulder.
“The first thing I want to do when we get to Leyson is a few rounds of boxing. ’Tis been too long since I’ve been in the ring. And my pub has been empty for so long I havena e’en been able to toss anyone out there. Though that looks to be changing now.”
Malcolm laughed. “The way ye’re wound up, I’ll let Alexander take ye on. He can always use a good smackdown.”
“I’m finally packed,” Jocelyn announced, joining them and settling into Gunn’s side. He brought his arm around her shoulders.
“That was quick. Malcolm and I will go get the trunks when Lizzie has finished.”
Once the trunks were loaded onto the carriages and they were ready to go, Gunn turned to Jocelyn. “All set?” She was wearing a day gown of light blue that nearly matched her eyes, a satin sash tied at her waist. He splayed his palms on her still flat stomach.
Her eyes tracked his hands.
“I canna believe ye have a wee bairn growing in there.”
She smiled, a touch of sadness in her eyes. It irked him every time. A bairn was something to celebrate. And he hated that it was a reminder of her husband’s cruelty.
