“I knew that.” Staring into the distance, she fished the amulet out of her sleeve and slipped the chain back over her head. She rubbed a wet finger over the smooth rectangular stone. “I wasn’t walking north?”
“No.” He came around to face her, his expression softening. “You’ve been walking south.”
Tears welled in her eyes; she couldn’t seem to stop them. She hoped they were disguised by the rain.
His hand went up to stroke his missing mustache, then dropped and curled into a fist. “Didn’t you notice the landscape was different?”
“Different?” Her voice went higher than she would have liked. She struggled to control herself as she scanned the drenched countryside. “It’s flat, just the same as yesterday. All England is flat and ugly.”
He shook his head and gestured at the gently rolling land. “Between Doncaster and Bawtry, it’s flat planted fields, bordered with trees. Here, there are hills used for grazing.”
“Hills, hah!” she said, even though he was right. Oh, why must she suffer from such a terrible sense of direction? It was the most inconvenient of faults. Why couldn’t she have a lisp or poor eyesight instead?
“Where I come from, this is flat.” She sniffed back the tears, determined not to let them fall. “W-will you take me there, then? To Rossington, where the coach is?”
She hated herself for the wobble in her voice.
“No.”
She hated him for being so disagreeable.
“Why not? What do you want from me?”
“I don’t have time to backtrack. And I want to keep an eye on you.” Rain dripped off his wide-brimmed hat, but he didn’t look nearly as miserable as she felt. “I cannot allow you to face Gothard alone.”
“Gothard!” The name was the last straw, the end of her hopeless struggle. The tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks. “I don’t want this man Gothard,” she wailed. “I want my brother, Adam! I want my bed at Leslie, and my cousin, Cameron. I want something—one thing!—to go right for a change! And my name is Caithren!”
Her chest heaved with a sudden sob, and the Englishman reacted immediately, wrapping her into his arms.
“I hate you!” Reaching up, she pounded on his shoulders.
With a grunt, he shoved her away. “Confound it, will you stop beating up on me?” he said much more calmly than the words would imply. “I told you I’d take you to London. I’ll replace your clothes and your precious satchel and whatever else was inside. I’ll repay your money, and should it turn out you really do have a brother”—his face showed what he thought were the chances of that—“I’ll hire a solicitor to draw up your deuced papers. Just stop hitting me, will you?”
He paused for breath, and his voice dropped, nearly to a whisper. “I’m not out to hurt you. I want only to get to Gothard first. I cannot get on with my life—whatever is left of it—until I do so.” The eyes that bore into hers were filled with pain. “Can you not try to understand that?”
Despite herself, she nodded, hot tears trailing down her face to mix with the cold rain. When she swayed, he caught her close once again.
She melted against him willingly, her tears flowing faster. What would she have done if he hadn’t come after her? She was so far ahead of the coach now—far too far to go back. It made much more sense to head for London. But with no coin, she had no way to get there by herself, even if she managed to keep going the right direction. She couldn’t walk there in time, and horses and food and beds all cost money.
But she hated the fact that she needed him, especially because his arms felt so reassuring around her. He was a rogue who wouldn’t believe a word she said. A bullying rogue who’d kept her off the public coach, endangering the future of Leslie and stranding her with nothing. A maddening rogue who kept calling her Emerald.
And still, she felt safe in the circle of his arms. Beneath his chilly, wet cloak, his spicy scent warmed her numb nose while rain pattered all around them.
“Have we a bargain?” he asked quietly.
She nodded against his chest.
He joggled her until she looked up. “Was that a yes?”
“Aye, it was.” She drew a shaky breath.
“And you won’t disappear on me again?”
“I won’t try to escape you.”
“And you won’t hit me again?”
A tiny smile threatened to burst free. “That I cannot promise.”
He heaved an elaborate sigh. “I suppose I will have to take what I can get, then.”
“I suppose you will.” Despite her best efforts, and the cold, and the wet, and her ankle, she smiled, after all.
He was staring at her mouth. “Shall we seal this agreement?” he asked softly.
“What?” Was he fixing to kiss her? Nay, that couldn’t be. “I said we have a bargain, Mr. Chase.”
He blinked. “Mr. Chase? Didn’t I tell you to call me Jason?”
“I haven’t been calling you anything. I’ve been trying my best to ignore you, if you hadn’t noticed. Out loud, that is. In my head, I’ve been calling you all sorts of things.”
“I’ll bet you have.” Setting her away gingerly, he bent and fished the knife from the mud, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the blade. “I’m thinking you should have leave to call me Jason.”
“Oh, aye?”
A gleam came into his eyes. “After all, we have slept together.”
Her cheeks flushed hot. “Not exactly. You slept.” Looking down, she adjusted the soggy bow at the top of her laces. “I was taught to address my elders with respect.”
“Your elders? Do you think me so old and decrepit?”
He sounded so disconcerted, Cait’s gaze shot up to his face. It took all she had not to laugh. She wished she had the talent to paint; if she could capture his expression on canvas, she could laugh at it forever.
“Very well,
