Once Trick would have agreed, but now he knew he’d been wrong. His wife had kept Cait’s secret, and she hadn’t told her brothers about his supposed financial trouble or him continuing as a highwayman, either.
“Kendra’s not like that.”
“I’m happy your marriage agrees with you, Amberley. But I trust no lady to stay quiet, not even your wife. And I’m trusting you to respect my wish for silence. Your loyalty will pay dividends. Your disloyalty…”
The unspoken words hung in the air. There it was, that veiled threat to withhold the pardon.
“I’m sorry,” Charles added with a sympathy Trick knew was sincere. It was part of the charm that made the king so popular with the people. But under that genuine kindness lay a streak of ruthless determination that was every bit as integral to the man’s personality. “I cannot afford to have it bandied about that the king is condoning robbery, no matter the reason or how deserving the victims. They’re my subjects, nonetheless.”
“But—”
“I’m asking you, as your monarch and your friend, to keep this wholly to yourself.”
Trick mentally threw up his hands. Opposing the monarchy went against everything he stood for. And although he’d agreed to this mission out of patriotism for king and country, he needed to finish it for Kendra. For their promising, fragile relationship, and for the children he hoped they’d have. Even now, an heir might be growing inside her, and that son deserved Amberley.
He sighed. “Of course.”
“Return to Sussex and arrange to meet with Pendregast. Fear not, for I’ve been thinking since I heard the news, and I’ve a plan to wrap this up. I owe you a debt for solving this little problem, and I won’t see you or the Chases implicated in any way.”
With a sinking heart, Trick listened to the plan. Despite his intentions otherwise, the deceptions would continue. For a man didn’t put his wife before his sovereign.
Not a wise one, in any case.
SIXTY-FIVE
KENDRA WOKE to a husky whisper in her ear.
“I have a present for you, leannan.”
Her head was lifted, and something cool and heavy slid down about her neck. Sleepily she reached for it, her fingers meeting a strand of smooth, hard orbs that could only be pearls.
Her eyes flew open. “Has it an amber clasp?”
“But of course.” Standing over her, her husband smiled. Dear heavens, he looked gorgeous in the low light of the fire. “Charles tried to give me a solid gold platter as a reward, but I would have none of it.”
She ran her tongue over her teeth, thinking of that tiny chip in his. “Well, are you going to come down here and let me thank you?”
She sighed as he joined her beneath the coverlet and settled his body beside hers, then laughed when he reached for the hem of her chemise to pull it off, needing to draw it through the necklace to accomplish his goal. With a grin, she grabbed the far end of the long strand and slipped it over his head, roping him close.
“I’ve got you,” she said.
“You certainly have.” His mouth met hers for a leisurely kiss, and she melted happily into his arms.
No matter how many times he kissed her, she still felt afire like it was the first. A flush heated her skin, warming the pearls that draped heavily on her neck. When the strand tangled, becoming an obstacle between them, she reached to pull it off.
“I’ll take those.” He held out his hand. And she gave them over, expecting him to drop them to the night table, as she had been about to do.
But instead, he just held the long rope in the air.
“They’re beautiful,” she said, watching them swing gently, firelight dancing off the gleaming round surfaces.
“Not half as beautiful as you.”
She’d never thought of herself as especially beautiful, and she swallowed hard.
“Do you know how much I care for you?” he asked in a thick, velvet-edged whisper.
“How much?” she whispered back, breathlessly caught in his gaze.
“Enough to make me question my loyalties.”
Loyalties? Though she didn’t quite understand, she could tell the admission was wrenched from somewhere deep inside him, and it softened the pain of not hearing the words she’d so desperately hoped he would say.
I love you.
She should tell him first, she thought. She should tell him first.
But she couldn’t. Because she still hadn’t quite scaled his wall. Because part of him was still holding back.
Not here, though. Not now. He arranged the pearls on her body and leaned away. “Lovely,” he murmured.
She mustered a weak smile. “I don’t think that’s the way they’re meant to be worn. Rather scandalous, don’t you think?”
“At King Charles’s court? Not a soul would even take notice.” But he drew them off and finally dropped them on the night table, meeting her lips for a tender kiss.
There was something about him tonight…something about the way he was kissing her, the way he was holding her close. Something. Something that made her feel, for the first time since the night he’d learned of his mother’s death, a vulnerability beneath his surface. That somewhere inside him lurked a lost little boy.
Waiting to get hurt.
So she was tender in return. Her arms held him to her, drawing him closer, closer, closer still.
If only she could climb the last of that wall and finally make them one.
SIXTY-SIX
BEFORE LEAVING the next morning, Trick swept the strand of pearls off the night table. “Do you like these?
“I love them.” Kendra’s smile lifted his heart. “But Trick…”
“Aye?”
“I mostly love them because we can sell them.”
His fingers tightened around them. “No, leannan. They’re for you.”
She grabbed them from his hands, cradling them against her. “They would feed the children for a decade, you said. No longer will you have to be a highwayman. I was going to beg you to stop anyway, Trick—I cannot stand the thought of you being
