Page 15 of How the Earl Entices

“A letter and three lists,” she pointedly repeated his words with a shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing more.”

When he didn’t contradict her, she took a step toward the door.

“They will kill you if they find them on you!”

She froze. “Who?”

“The men I’m running from—men who want me dead. If they discover that you’ve read them, they’ll kill you, too, just to keep you silent.”

“What did you do?” Her face paled.

He bit down a soft curse. “I trusted the wrong man.”

She gazed at him, as if deciding whether to accept this fractured half-explanation. Then she shook her head. “I can’t believe that—”

“And I don’t believe for one moment that you’re a fisherman’s widow protecting her son,” he shot back, putting her on the defensive as he attacked. He prayed that he might anger her enough to make her leave those pages behind. “What didyoudo that you don’t want to be noticed?”

Her gaze didn’t stray from his. The silence stretched between them for so long that the sound of the drizzling rain striking the roof filled up the little cottage.

Finally, she answered, “I refused to die.”

Well aware of his gaze on her, she carried the papers to the dresser and hid them inside his clothing.

Relief eased away his alarm. Not that having the papers nearby did him any good. The ropes at his wrists were tighter than ever, and he had no hope of retrieving them until the blasted woman allowed it. But at least she wasn’t carrying them on her person.

“I have to go into the village.” She stepped into the main room to fetch the oil slicker and slipped it on. “And no, I won’t tell anyone about you or those papers.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be back in about an hour.” She tossed dryly over her shoulder as she left the cottage and closed the door after herself, “Don’t go anywhere!”

With a frustrated curse, Ross lay back on the bed and seethed. Never in his life had he met a woman like her.

If he weren’t careful, he wouldn’t live long enough to meet another.

Chapter 5

“For heaven’s sake!” Alice Walters called out in surprise from behind the counter as Grace rushed inside the apothecary shop to escape the rain. “What on earth are you doing out in this weather?”

“Swimming,” Grace answered, deadpan. She stopped just inside the door to peel off her hat and slicker and shake out the water before it pooled on the stone floor. And also to gather herself before she faced her old friend. Thank God she could blame her shaking on the cold.

Alice ignored her quip, allowing only a concerned huff as Grace hung up her coat and then stuck her head into the adjoining room in search of her son.

“Ethan?” she called out, hearing the panic in her voice but helpless to prevent it. “Ethan! Where are you?”

“He’s upstairs cleaning out the storage room.” Alice circled around from behind the counter and took Grace’s hands in hers, squeezing them reassuringly. “Calm down. Everything’s all right. He’s perfectly fine. Slept through the storm like a log.”

A harsh sigh of relief tore from her. “I can’t help it. I—”

The words choked in her tightening throat.

Now that she was here in the shop, knowing for certain that Ethan was safe, the fear and distress that had kept her on edge since the moment Ross forced his way into her cottage eased from her. It left her body trembling, her stomach roiling, and oddly enough, somehow even more panicked now than when she’d been held prisoner.

She blinked back tears and admitted painfully, “I was worried about him.”

With a motherly smile, Alice tucked a wet curl behind Grace’s ear. The affectionate gesture wasn’t enough to soothe away her agitation at Ross’s unexpected return into her life, but thank God she could blame all that on being apart from Ethan.

“Come warm yourself.” Alice slipped her arm around Grace’s waist and gently led her to the small stove in the corner. “You shouldn’t have come out yet, not with the rain still falling like it is.”