snapped the fool’s neck before he’d had a chance to escape.

Like a vivid nightmare he had a flash of it all. Of the cave. Of her eyes. Of the fear in them when her gaze had collided with his. But then there had been her show of bravery. Her even gaze that had held his as though he were her lifeline.

No one had ever looked at him like that. Without fear, and with something else instead. Certainty. She’d looked at him as though he was her savior.

No one had ever trusted him like that before. Certainly no dainty lady like this one.

You do not need me anymore.

He shook off her words. What was she on about? Right. The earl. An elderly bloke who’d been surrounded by a bunch of preening, prettified lords and ladies of the ton. His lips curved up in a sneer out of habit. “What about him?”

“He’s sick, it seems. With the doctor out of town at the moment, he asked Sally to come look after him.” Her sudden smile was filled with pride and for a moment he felt as though he’d been stuck with a knife all over again. “Dr. Roberts himself recommended her. Said she’d do just as well as any high society physician and that she was well able to tend to him by herself.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement but words were still out of reach. She had to stop smiling like that. It was too distracting by far.

“But of course she could not go alone and Rebecca has always wished to see a true country estate.” Her smile turned dreamy and sweet. “Rebecca was delighted to go as her companion.”

His eyes narrowed. For a second there he’d almost forgotten what started this blasted conversation about earls and country estates. “Who’ll be your companion tomorrow if Hattie is ill?”

“A maid will accompany me.”

“A maid.” He had a hazy memory of the skittish young woman who’d accompanied Abigail to town the last time he’d seen her. “She’s no better than Hattie. Or Nicholas.”

Abigail’s smile didn’t fade, but it turned quizzical. “I only need a companion for propriety’s sake. The carriage driver will be with us, of course. I can’t imagine why I’d need more protection.”

He stared at her. Gaped at her, really. “Can’t you?”

She blinked.

“That smuggler is still out there,” he said. Even he could hear his anger. His agitation. But honestly, what sort of fool went off alone at a time like this?

She frowned. “He’s likely long gone, you’ve said so yourself.”

“But we don’t know that,” he shot back. “Nor do we know for whom he was working.”

She sighed, and not for the first time today he found himself feeling very strangely like an old nursemaid fretting over its charge. He did not particularly care for the image, or the feeling, for that matter.

But while she wasn’t his charge, obviously—she was his to protect. He’d saved her life, after all. Surely that meant she was under his protection. And even if it didn’t.... “I forbid it.”

She gave him a blank stare. “Pardon me?”

Some of his fury softened in the face of her shock. “I forbid it?” To his horror, this time it came out as a question rather than a fearsome command, as he’d intended.

Her lips twitched, and while it was indeed humiliating to be the object of her amusement, he also felt something in his chest loosen at the sight of that almost smile. She’d been far too close to tears before and he did not like it. No, he did not care for it one bit.

In fact, he aimed to make sure she never cried again. All part of his duty to look after her, of course. He’d promised Marcus and Minerva before they’d left that he’d protect Abigail and the rest of her family so long as Roger was on the loose and his cohorts still unknown.

And that was precisely what he’d do.

She twisted her hands together, looking more youthful and vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. His chest tightened again at the sight of it.

Curse it. No one woman should have so much control over his organs, of that he was certain. It was for the best that he’d be leaving town just as soon as this smuggling business was sorted.

Until then, however, she was his concern. Her safety was, at least.

She reached out and patted his arm gently. “That’s very thoughtful of you to take an interest,” she said sweetly. “But my father is the one who’s requested that I go. Surely if he thought there was any danger—”

“Then I will talk to your father.” He meant for his glare to be a challenge. A dare for her to defy him, but there was a sadness in her eyes when she lifted her shoulders.

“Do as you’d like.” She moved to walk away. Do as he’d like? What did that mean?

And why did she still look like she might cry?

Lonely. She was lonely. His gut twisted at the sight of her walking away...alone. Her head was held high and there were children bustling about, as always.

All the same, surely he ought to see her safely to her door. And then he would have a word with her father.

As luck would have it, Caleb spotted her father returning to his house from the direction of the fort just as Caleb was heading back to his new makeshift home.

Home. The word made him twitch. He’d never had a home. Not a proper one, at least. He eyed the slightly slanted wooden structure that stood precariously along the shores. He supposed this place was as good as any.

“Ho there, just the man I wanted to see,” Captain Jones called out as he approached.

Caleb grimaced. He wasn’t the sort of man that gentlemen like Captain Jones typically wanted to see.

In fact, in any other circumstances, he’d likely be the very last sort of man Captain Jones wanted to see.

But it seemed saving the life of his daughter had helped the

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