Page 29 of What the Heart Knows

Evidently, I can love him.

“What should we talk about, Kit?”

“Us? Our relationship? Marriage? Our feelings? Some of those? All of those? I don’t know.”

“Nor do I. I do know we both need time to think about what we want and need.”

“You want to think about all of that?”

“Perhaps more. I won’t rush into anything, especially with Brookbank’s threats looming.”

“If we married, you’d be safe from him and any other plot your father might hatch.”

Placing a hand on his arm, she formed a soft smile. “You’d forever wonder if I truly loved you or only married you for protection.”

“I would never…”

The truth of that possibility dropped his jaw.

“I like to think I’d never doubt you,” he said. “However, you have a point. If you choose to marry me, you should do so because you want to, not because you feel you have to.”

“Then you’ll respect my wish to wait and think carefully while we do?”

“I’ll always respect your wishes, no matter what you decide.”

She nodded and cast a quick glance at the western horizon. Surprisingly, the sun still rode high in the heavens.

“We’d best leave. Father will expect me home soon. Fortunately, Beuth gave me the ribbons at his shop. I won’t have to stop to fetch them. He ordered them for me to ensure Father and Brookbank would believe my errand to be an honest one.”

Kit helped her pack up and handed her into the curricle. “I’ll not return with you. If anyone saw us, they might report to your father or Brookbank.”

She sighed. “I agree. I shall miss your company, Kit Copefort.”

“And I yours, Meg Fenneman. Come to me, or send for me if you feel imminent danger from Brookbank.”

“I can handle myself.”

Kit gripped her hand. “Promise me.”

“I find myself wanting to refuse you nothing. I promise.”

“Good, now get you gone.”

She felt him watch her drive away.

Time would crawl before she saw him again. His plan was good, but he risked as much or more than she. He would march straight into battle with violent criminals. The chance of injury, or worse was monstrous. All she could do was wait. The idea chaffed. What alternative was there? None, if she wished to lull the villains into over-confidence.

Chapter Nine

The Queen’s Barque Inn, Three days later

Kit worried through the next two days. Brewster and Beuth both wearied of his carefully worded pleas for news from Sea Grange. By the third day, he sat alone in the public room awaiting his belated breakfast. He’d tossed and turned most of the night, only sleeping when exhaustion prevented wakefulness.

“Mr. Copefort, sir,” Henry Brewster approached him carrying Kit’s meal. A second tankard sat on the tray. “Mind you, if I sit a bit?”

“Please do.” He was silent while Brewster unloaded the tray, setting it aside on another table. Once the innkeeper sat, Kit began, “Have you any word…”

The innkeeper raised a palm to halt the question. “Do not ask for news from Sea Grange or word of Miss Fenneman. I’ve no more to say than in the past few days.”