“About the storm? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little thunder and lightning?”
He forced a chuckle as he pushed murderous thoughts away. “Not at all.”
“Then what were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking how lucky it was today that we weren’t all killed.”
“How would you get your precious items back then?”
“Well, for one, I’d be dead and no longer in need of them.”
“And two?”
“There is no two. Death is pretty final, don’t you think? Perhaps except in the case of your father. How many lives has he used up so far?”
“I believe this is his third meeting with Davy Jones in as many years. Who knows how many more men have laid false claim to sinking him.”
“Does it ever get tiring?”
“What?”
“The never-ending danger? The never knowing if you’ll live out the day?”
“Why don’t you tell me? The Butcher must have had some experience with that himself.”
“You’ve made it abundantly clear that you have no knowledge of war or the Butcher.”
“Will you tell me? I’d like to know.”
“No. You would not. It is not a subject for a lady.” And when he realized she would protest her status in that regard, he added, “Or for any woman.”
Another hour passed, the steady beating of rain on the roof of the carriage the only sound to penetrate the tension. When they slowed to a stop Hobson opened the door and stuck his dripping head in. “What should we do? We haven’t seen a town since this morning and not a marker to show how much longer it will be until we reach one. Willie thinks we should go back to that barn we passed: the horses are getting tired and cold.”
He hated the idea of it. Hated even more that they would have to turn the carriage around in this weather and then backtrack so far, but it would be worse to be on a strange road after dark with their destination unknown. They must have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. Already it was obvious the light would fade much quicker with the black clouds roiling above them. They would have no time to figure out where they were and remedy their direction.
James nodded, stood, reached under the seat where he had earlier removed the pistol and pulled out a greatcoat. “Stay here this time. Please,” he added. “We’ll turn around and then find shelter.”
“I have no wish to catch my death out there in that,” she said. Her look conveyed he, on the other hand, should definitely venture out into it.
A very real smile found its way to his lips as he stepped into driving rain and fading light. She was filled with mischief and fire and he rather thought he liked that about her. Even though he really didn’t want to.
*
Quite a great deal of time later they finally reached the decrepit barn they had passed earlier. It seemed like yesterday that they had fought and killed the men on the road. Daniella was beyond weary but she hadn’t been able to sleep. Not knowing if they could be stuck on the side of the road, all four of them huddled in the carriage, until morning. It hadn’t bothered her when Mrs McDougal had fallen ill and been left behind. It wasn’t until after the battle with the thieves that she’d realized just how hopelessly outnumbered she was. Four men and only one woman. Hobson was the only one she wasn’t at all afraid to be alone with. He’d been kind to her where Trelissick had been gruff and moody. She didn’t know Patrick but there was something about the way he stared at her that made her skin crawl. It wasn’t leering as such: almost as if he worked to decipher her secrets from afar. Willie she knew nothing about but if he was in Trelissick’s employ then he couldn’t be all bad. Could he?
This was what Daniella traditionally referred to as her bout of doubts. It only ever hit her after she’d already gone ahead with a scandal or challenge or something equally wrong-headed. The uneasiness had tried to encroach several times already but she kept pushing it back, thought of something else, did something else. But now as they pulled into the dark barn with God knew what animal calling it home, the bout of doubts flew at her full force.
She wanted to call out that she was quite happy to continue on the road but Trelissick had warned her to stay quiet on the off chance the structure was inhabited. He was so bossy and serious all the time.
Except when he had flirted with her at the dressmaker’s.
He wouldn’t call it flirting but she would. His eyes had sparkled and his grin had shaved years off his face and his mouth had transfixed her. She couldn’t help but rise to his playfulness. He had obviously at one time been a boy and then a young man. What had happened to turn him into a veritable rock? Was it this Butcher business?
When she’d first agreed to be his hostage she had planned to wait until they drew closer to their destination and then she was going to flee—she could not guarantee he would really hand her to her father and was determined to get herself home—but the fight with the thieves would have ended a whole lot differently had she been on her own.
This side of the border, she was certainly better off with him than without him. She would never tell Trelissick that though.
Daniella was startled from her thoughts when the carriage door flew open. She raised her dagger against the blinding light from a lantern, ready to use it if she had to.
“Where did you get that?” Trelissick’s voice reached her, full of furious exasperation.
“I took it from one of the dead men.”
“Are you planning on stabbing me in the back with it?”
She smiled as she dropped the blade to her
