To Hold a Lady's Secret by Christi Caldwell

Author:Christi Caldwell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2020-05-14T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Any other lady would have wilted.

At finding him outside her window.

At his revelation that he’d been a common street thief.

At his announcement that he planned to take her.

And then, after wilting, any other lady would have raised the hue and cry for servants to see him tossed out.

But Gillian had never been like any other lady.

She’d not been like any person he’d known.

“I don’t u-understand,” she said slowly, rubbing her arms once more.

He needed to tell her. He needed to tell her the full extent of her father’s betrayal, because she was deserving of all the truth. And then he needed to get her from this place.

He needed to get the both of them out.

“Colin?” Gillian’s voice came hesitantly.

Moving past her, he started for the armoire, and pulling open the pretty painted ivory panels, he searched for linens. Row among row of gown after gown and dress after dress of all types and fabrics. And chemises, too. Delicate, lacy…

Bloody cad.

Muttering, he knelt and pulled out the drawers. “Where are your linens?” he asked as he rummaged.

“The linen closet.”

Of course.

The linen closet.

Which was…

“In another hall,” she murmured, her voice coming at his shoulder, indicating she’d moved nearer to him.

Yet again, of course.

Abandoning his spot at her armoire, he stalked over to her bed.

“Colin?” she asked quizzically as he yanked off her coverlet and pulled her sheets from the bed. “What are y-you—?” Her query ended as he whipped the sheet around her slender frame.

He proceeded to rub the moisture from her arms and back, patting her down. When his fingers reached the curve of her hip, sparks flared in the air between them. Crackling like the sturdy fire that blazed in the hearth across the room.

He made himself draw his hands back. “I’m taking you with me,” he repeated.

She shook her head. “Where?”

“To Birmingham.”

Silence met that pronouncement.

The fire hissed and popped in an offbeat tempo to the rain that pinged the window. “You… want me to go to Birmingham with you?” she asked tentatively.

“I…” He couldn’t take her with him. Not truly. “I can take you along with me, until we figure out where it is safe for you.”

As a detective, it was his duty to catch every detail. The way her white-knuckled grip clutched that togalike cloak wrapped about her.

“Oh.”

The slight edge of hesitation in her tone gave him pause.

That was it: ‘Oh’? For the first time since he’d left her father and resolved to take her from this place, he considered that she might not want to join him.

Not even a day ago, she had entertained marrying Lord Barber.

Now, he was asking her to risk her reputation… on him. Without even a fully crafted plan of what would happen next, he’d ask her to run off.

A bastard son of a caddish duke.

“Your father said no,” he said, self-preservation requiring that he fill the void. “To my request. There cannot be a false betrothal.”

But you can make it real…

His mind balked and jolted at the idea. Where in blazes had that even come from? He wasn’t meant to be a husband.

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