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Unfortunately, he very much feared that might be what it came down to.
She shook her head, gazing at him as though he’d lost his mind. “I think I’d remember it if a man like that had shown an interest in me,” she said slowly. “It’s not as though I have dozens of suitors hounding me day and night. I’m a spinster by anyone’s reckoning.”
He stared at her a moment longer, wondering about the shadows in her eyes. He sensed that she was telling the truth about Mortimer but was hiding something else.
With a relieved sigh, he pushed to his feet, turning away to pace once more. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” Of course, that didn’t mean that Mortimer hadn’t picked her to play his twisted games with for some other reason. Perhaps he’d chosen her simply because of her connection to O’Brien. If Danbury knew that Drake was on to him, he had to know that O’Brien and Sebastian Ness, the current head inspector of J Division, were as well.
“What time do you think it is?” he asked in frustration. “I feel as though whoever took us should have come in to tell us what they want with us by now, don’t you?”
“I have no idea,” she answered tiredly. “I’ve never been kidnapped before so I’m not certain of the rules. But it seems like I’ve been here forever.”
He smiled slightly, appreciating her attempt at levity. “It was dusk when they grabbed me, so I’m guessing it must be near midnight by now.” He paused and took in the weary set of her shoulders and the dark shadows under her eyes. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’ll wake you if anything happens.”
She frowned and bit her lip. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep as well?”
The mere thought of lying down and closing his eyes, of being weak and vulnerable when their captors returned, made his skin crawl. “I need to stay awake. I might only get one chance to overpower whoever comes down here. I need to be awake and alert when that happens.”
“How long do you think you can stay awake?” she asked hesitantly. “Perhaps we can take turns standing watch?”
A wave of unexpected tenderness swept over him at her suggestion. Most of the women he knew would be quivering masses of hysteria if they’d been through what had happened to her today. But she seemed remarkably composed, and he found her offer misguided but very brave. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ll be fine all night, I believe, but if I feel myself dozing off, I’ll wake you.”
She seemed satisfied with that and kicked off her shoes, stretching out on the narrow cot with a sigh, but lying so stiffly she reminded him of a mummy.
Still feeling strangely protective, he walked over and grabbed the blanket he’d put around her shoulders earlier, spreading it over her from chin to toes. He’d undressed enough women to know how many layers of clothing she still wore, how very tight and constricting it must be, but he didn’t feel comfortable telling her that she should take a few layers off.
He leaned down and squeezed her shoulder. “Rest now. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I believe you,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
He nodded abruptly, turning away to stare balefully at the door once more, still somewhat surprised that no one had come to talk to him yet. What did they want? Was this Danbury’s way of torturing him? It seemed likely. His brother was like a cat playing with a mouse, wanting to see it run this way and that, trying to get away, when he had the power to pounce at any moment.
He couldn’t believe how solid that door was. All he’d managed to accomplish with his frenzy of fury earlier was bruise his knuckles. They obviously weren’t going to be able to break through it, but strangely, there didn’t seem to be anyone on the other side. If therewassome sort of guard, they were being extremely quiet.
With a sigh, he scrubbed his hand over his tired eyes. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Why would they need a guard when the door was strong as iron?
He’d never been a patient man. He was used to barking orders, used to getting things done. Having to sit here and wait for the whim of another was excruciating. He wanted to scream and break things, but he doubted his cellmate would appreciate that. He feared he’d already terrified her when he’d tried to break the door down earlier.
His gaze strayed once more to the dark corner where she lay rigidly on the cot. He was certain she wasn’t sleeping, but then again, he’d be surprised if she could, with their future up in the air and unknown terrors waiting for them outside that door.
He wished he were the sort of man who knew how to offer her some sort of comfort but he’d never been good at that sort of thing. He had no experience with it, after all. His mother had died when he was seven, and though his older sister had tried to give him love and affection, his father hadn’t thought that necessary and had soon sent Amelia to live with their aunt, preferring to raise his sons with an iron hand.
No wonder Danbury had become such a monster.
Miss Fields’ breathing seemed to have nearly stopped altogether, and he realized she must feel his stare. Cursing himself, he turned his gaze toward the door. He didn’t want to make her even more frightened while he contemplated how to comfort her.
When was the last time he’d been alone in such close quarters with a woman he wasn’t having sex with? He couldn’t remember if such a thing hadeverhappened. The rules of thetonwere specifically designed so that its fragile flowers avoided compromising situations. However, that meant most young women had never been alone with a man until their wedding night, when they were expected to allow one into their bodies.
It all seemed faintly ridiculous to him. And since, as a younger son, he had no obligation to provide an heir, he’d been mostly spared the vapid entertainments of the Season and the quest for a rich, pedigreed bride.
As a result, the only young women he ever spent time with were spoiled young wives looking for a bit of fun, vivacious actresses, and the occasional high-class courtesan, none of whom ever expected him to make conversation.
Heather Fields, as neither a lady nor a woman of loose morals, was a complete anomaly to him. He had no idea what to say or do to make this easier on her.
With no way to tell what time it was, the seconds seemed to tick by like hours. He got up and paced in front of the door sporadically, stretching his legs and willing it to open, only to eventually sit back down at the table.
Nerves frayed to the breaking point, he felt himself growing closer and closer to some sort of internal explosion, when suddenly, Heather gave the daintiest little snore. He turned toward her, some of the fury and fear within him abating and a reluctant smile stretching his lips.
Dear God, she was adorable.
