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"Everything?"
"You are home, Damien, so all must be well."
His eyes narrowed. He didn't bother to hide his suspicion. Anxiety inched through her nerves, but even over her fear she could still hear her mind marveling that she'd once found this man so attractive. His hair was far too light, his jaw too weak, shoulders too narrow. And there was not a glimmer of decency in his eyes.
"Your naïveté is refreshing," he finally answered. "But no, all is not well, my darling Alexandra."
"But you are here."
"Yes."
"Then. . . Then you are in danger!" He did not seem to mind her overacting. In fact, he puffed up as she gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth.
"I am. And you are my only hope of safety."
"Oh, Damien!"
"'Tis true. Have you ever made the acquaintance of a Collin Blackburn?"
"Collin . . ." Alex summoned up the last dregs of her acting skills. "I do not think so, though I daresay I've heard the name."
"Well, I am relieved you've never suffered his presence. The man is no more than a thug. But are you quite sure? He's a big Scottish brute, dark and rough-mannered."
"Do not tell me that such a man is after you?"
"He is."
"But that is terrible! You could be hurt."
Her gut churned, telling her she was overdoing it, but her nerves were stretched too tight to grant her subtlety. Still, Damien seemed to find it easy to believe her a simpleton. He nodded solemnly, cold eyes wide.
"I'm sure I could defend myself against a more honorable man, but this one . . . I fear that I will be murdered in my bed."
"Oh!"
"I need your help, Alexandra. Darling." "Of course."
"I had always hoped . . ." He heaved a great sigh and shifted his eyes to the horizon. "I had always hoped that one day, this catastrophe would resolve itself, and I could make an offer for your hand. A decent, civilized offer."
When his narrowed eyes cut back to her, she gave the barest nod.
"I understand why you could not accept my recent proposal. Though I was heartbroken."
"But I hope you will see fit to help me build a new life for myself. A good l
ife. I plan to go to America, you see."
"America! That is so far."
"Yes. And I'm afraid I must prostrate myself before you again. I will repay you, of course, once I am settled."
Alex's mind raced and strained to find a solution. She could not turn around and go home. Hart would not return from London for another day; she'd made sure of that before she'd arranged her deception.
The local magistrate was a pleasant man, but surely no match for Damien, and Alex was damned determined that she would not give the man money again. No, she wanted him caught, wanted to turn him over to Collin . . .
"I have twenty-five pounds in my luggage. Would that be enough?" she asked him, knowing it would not. Predictably, his face drew up in a snarl.
"Twenty-five pounds? That would not buy me a bunk in the hold."
