Engaging the Enemy by Heather Boyd

Author:Heather Boyd
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: LLD Press
Published: 2012-02-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

If anyone had told him a year ago that he would consider murdering anyone who dared threaten a duke or duchess of Romsey he would have laughed in their faces and told them to go to the devil. But today he had felt such fury that it was clear he’d had an absolute change of heart. The boy was innocent and deserved his protection. Mercy was . . .

He couldn’t decide what she was to him. But the thought of her in danger was torture to his soul. There was no need to feel so possessive about her, yet he was utterly powerless to turn his thoughts away from her for long.

She stirred on the bed, where she’d spent the last hour convincing Edwin to rest, and joined him at the window. “He’s finally asleep,” she whispered.

He had stood apart from them, alert for trouble, pistol loose in his hand. He glanced beyond her to the bed and relaxed marginally. “I thought he might be more difficult for you. This is not a particularly cheerful room.” In fact, this room was quite disgusting. Dusty; unused for perhaps a dozen or more years and smelling strongly of dampness. It was an insult to bring anyone here, but no one would expect the boy in this part of the abbey. No one would expect a duchess to allow her child near such neglect. Yet all Mercy had done was wrinkle her nose at the rising dust, and then focused her attention on the boy to keep him amused.

“I told you he has an agreeable temper,” Mercy said. “When I informed him that we would never leave his side he cheered up. He likes you. And he enjoyed the games you showed him earlier immensely.”

A hollow ache started in Leopold’s chest. Although he shouldn’t, he liked the boy, too. He’d felt a profound connection to the child from the moment they’d met. Hiding how much could prove difficult. He checked his weapon again, wishing heartily that he’d taken the time to collect a second from the duke’s study before night had fallen. But he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to what he was doing as yet. For now, all he had to defend them with was one small pistol and a fury unlike anything he’d ever known.

Mercy rubbed her hands up and down her arms briskly to ward off the chill of the cold room. “What time do you think it is?”

“Nearing midnight.” Or at least that hour was drawing close the last time he had checked his fob watch. That habit had grown far too often for his comfort during the course of the evening, so he had made a promise to himself not to check until dawn lightened the sky.

“Are you always armed, Leopold?”

He met her gaze. “Yes.”

She flinched at his immediate answer and lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed. “You must have had a terrible life to always be so prepared for danger.”

What could he say to that? He’d learned his lessons early in life.

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