Chapter Thirteen

R egret.

A bittersweet emotion. Theodosia had never tasted it to the magnitude that she did now. And at this moment it was rather more bitter than sweetness as she recalled how she had acted that morning with Field Savage, the Earl of Saville. They should have had more of a discussion. They were both adults, weren't they? Yet, while they said things, they hadn't truly discussed anything. Now everything felt awkward. Awkwardly so.

Her gaze tracked over the farmlands. No bitterness dwelled within these fields. There was only sweet in the natural world's untroubled affairs. She'd hoped a walk would give her some clarity, and it did to some degree, but also brought other things to light.

She had always been stubborn to the bone. She never cowered under a man's gaze. She would not be pushed into an unwanted corner. And today, she hadn't asked Saville what he wanted, only thought about how pretending nothing happened would benefit them—but mostly her.

Was pretending really the right answer?

Or was it just another form of cowering?

But what else am I to do?

Now that she had calmed down a bit, more of that night flickered through her mind. Quite frankly, she couldn't decide what shocked her more about her own behavior—the conversation they'd had before they kissed, the fact that she'd asked him to kiss, everything that happened after that, or demanding that they pretend it never happened.

Could she truly forget?

She'd insisted he pretend that nothing had happened. But she had quickly come to understand something. Just because one pretended something hadn't happened, didn't mean one forgot it. In fact, since the moment she'd decided to pretend last night had never happened between them, she had been unable to push the memories out of the forefront of her mind. They refused leave her be.

They danced across her inner vision as if to taunt her.

You can't pretend.

You can't pretend.

And perhaps she didn't want to pretend either. But what else do?

She glanced back at the small farmhouse.

You are much too vibrant to be bound to the country.

She threw her head back and shot a prayer up into the sky. A prayer not just to pretend better but to forget. To escape this man. To settle down for a peaceful remainder of the season. It didn't seem at all possible anymore.

She blinked. White puffs of clouds littered the sky. One in particular slowly shaped into a... heart?

Urg!

For heaven's sake!

Even the sky mocked her this day.

Damn that man.

Bless him, too. Because Field, Saville , had been keeping his distance from her. She supposed he had his own thoughts to sort through, as well, since she'd asked him to pretend. Her request must have stuck in his craw like a branch with sharp edges. The man was nothing if not driven by a desire to protect, however flawed his attempts to do so might be. He would want nothing more than to protect her from ruin, even though he—well, she was the cause of that ruin.

Why am I so conflicted?

Everything that had happened last night had been her choice. She had been the one to initiate the kiss. She had seduced him. Yet now she demanded they both forget it ever happened.

I'm never drinking again. Full stop.

Theodosia didn't regret their night together in the sense that she wished they had never spent a night with their bodies entwined. Other than in her management the situation this morning, her biggest sense of regret, she had come to realize on her stroll, was in the sense that now, no matter what, she could never forget how it felt. How he felt. His body against hers. His kisses. His touches.

Saville.

Her nemesis! Or previous nemesis. Or her perhaps-still nemesis? She now knew him on a whole other level. And she didn't hate it. What was she supposed to do with this not- hate?

Like him?

God, no.

Enjoy his company?

That was even more unfathomable.

But what else was she supposed to feel? She knew now she wouldn't be able to pretend nothing had happened. Had he come to a similar conclusion, or was he finding it easier to forget? How had things become so unimaginably complicated?

You know very well, Theo.

She kicked a pebble in her path and peeked at the house once more. Yes, it all began with her request. Should she return and have a true conversation with the man? She hadn't ventured all that far, mostly just up and down the lane leading up to the main house. They could be discussing all this in a matter of moments...

This is not like you, Theodosia .

She did not enjoy this skulking, lurking , outside the house while he skulked and lurked inside.

She patted her cheeks. The entire world seemed so far from their reality that Brighton, the book, the highwaymen, even her brothers all felt like a distant dream.

"You all right, lass?" Mr. Bell asked.

Theodosia turned to the elusive husband of Mrs. Bell. She loved how he called her lass even though the man didn't possess an ounce of Scottish blood. But apparently, he had grown up in the Scottish Lowlands, and picked up some Scottish habits there, too.

"Ah, yes, all is well," Theodosia said, a bit embarrassed. She hadn't seen much of Mr. Bell and assumed he was quite busy, but the man reminded her a bit of her father. Calm, and solid with a kind smile.

"I'm enjoying the midday sun."

"Be careful not to enjoy it too much, lass. The sun's rays are sharpest this time of day."

Theodosia smiled and nodded. Sharp though they may be, they didn't sting as much as the not-so-subtle looks Field had been shooting her before she'd decided to escape outside. The bright sun seemed like the lesser evil.

"I expect you've been in the fields this morning, sir. Will your crops be abundant this year?"

The man wiped sweat from his brow. "Just came from the potato fields, lass. They are doing well."

Potatoes . . .

Another reminder of Saville.

"Well, that is good, Mr. Bell."

His smile softened his features. "Also had a chat with our neighbors over yonder," he said with a vague over yonder gesture. "There have been whispers of robberies but nothing near here."

Her eyes widened. "Oh? Well, I suppose that is good news."

Mrs. Bell came around the corner of the house with a basket. "There you are, Mr. Bell. Ah, dearie, you are here as well. I've set lunch in the kitchen for you. You didn't even have a bowl of the stew last evening."

"Oh, yes, I'm afraid we got a bit... distracted, Mrs. Bell. My apologies if we left a mess in the kitchen."

"Oh, it's no bother, dearie. Youngsters must have some fun as well. But do eat something. Mr. Bell and I will take our lunch outside." She glanced up at the sky. "It's a marvelous day, don't you think, Mr. Bell?"

The old man's gaze lit up as it fell on his wife. Theodosia's heart pinched. What a sweet sight.

"Oh, and do tell that fierce fellow the news about those whispers," Mr. Bell said.

"I shall, and thank you." She gave a nod and smiled at the couple. "Is Field inside?"

What an absurd question, Theodosia.

Of course he was inside. What she really wondered was whether she would run into him in the kitchen. She hadn't eaten yet today, having been too busy with her thoughts to even think about food. And they'd risen quite late. But now that lunch was mentioned, the hunger from earlier returned tenfold. And she'd much rather eat alone while she sorted her thoughts.

Mrs. Bell nodded. "I told him about lunch, as well. He looks a bit pale. Distracted, too. Make sure he eats something, will you?"

"Of course." Theodosia nodded.

Right. Well. It seemed they would have to face each other again sooner or later. She'd hoped to have her wits collected by then. But a smidgeon of worry brewed. Was he in a state to face her ? Did he still feel sick?

She waved as the couple walked off, arm in arm onto a path that led to big tree in the distance. Would she have that one day? Lunch with her husband in a field beneath a tree? How envious she suddenly felt.

Now, on to her own partner.

Of sorts.

Behind her, in that little farmhouse, was a big man with an even bigger presence. Time to face him and the reassurance he hadn't given her. But a more maddening question arose with that. What reassurance did she want?

Infuriating creature. She. Him. Them both!

There was no doubt in her mind that Field Savage would not let this matter go. The man hardly ever agreed with anything she said, though to be fair, they had been agreeing more lately. It still came as a surprise, however, when they did agree on something. Plus, her request went against his protective nature—she was sure of it.

Something was brewing in the air. Something that would crackle, hiss, and explode the moment she walked through the door of that house and came face to face with him. He'd given her time, but probably just to calm her nerves, as some men were wont to do. That was what her brothers did, at any rate.

Am I ready for this?

She would stay outside the entire day if she could, but the decision wasn't up to her. Her belly held all the power at the moment, and hunger won.

Theodosia straightened her shoulders.

You can do this.

She just hoped that Field's hunger would keep his mouth stuffed with food long enough that she could eat and stall for more time.

*

Liberation.

There was nothing that liberated a man as much as alcohol. There was also nothing that brought more trouble for a man, either. In hindsight, he should have remembered that. The list of heiresses that had been butchered at their hands served forever as a prime example. Though not as prime an example as the momentous miscalculation he had made after this particular bout of freedom had been dispensed by a bottle of gin.

He had gravely miscalculated how much he had wanted Lady Theodosia King.

He had never stood a chance.

The calm he had regained throughout the morning was rapidly draining away as he stared through the window, watching Theodosia converse with the Bells. Field still hadn't come close to coming to terms with the depth of the shite he had gotten himself into now and how to deal with it. Forget about pursuing her to Brighton, the highwaymen, the town, and everything in between—the simple fact was that they had been traveling together alone.

Had slept in the same room. Alone.

Had got foxed. Alone.

At what point had he thought all that was a good idea? He hadn't. Because he hadn't given any of it any thought. He had been so doggedly pursuing his own goals that he hadn't stopped to look at anything else.

Field scowled at his reflection in the window. "I can't believe I did the very thing I dueled my best friend over."

Very well, he hadn't actually dueled with Warrick. His sister had commandeered Warrick's place. But the reason he had issued the duel in the first place was because his friend had kissed his sister.

Kissed.

A mere kiss! Perhaps two.

And now he had done so much worse. He'd turned into a ravenous beast, some creature that acted as though it had been starved for all its existence and then lost control at the prospect of tasting a delicious morsel to alleviate the tormenting hunger. Much like the devil Theodosia and Selena had turned his portrait into, no?

By all accounts, six holes, one for each King brother, should riddle his body over what he'd done.

But she wanted him to pretend it had never happened?

I can't do it.

Won't do it.

Had she even thought about her future? What if she married? Wait, could a woman even pretend to be chaste on her wedding night? Was that possible? Did it matter? Did it not? Was she not worried ? Or did she not plan to marry? Wait, why was he so worried about her wedding? Her wedding night?

Slow down, Field.

Field dragged a hand through his hair.

He racked his brain over and over about what the hell she wanted but couldn't come up with an answer. The woman was too damn elusive. Perhaps the better question to ask was what he wanted. Perhaps he was hopeless in every last respect. No, helpless . He didn't know what the hell to do.

Warrick would laugh his arse off.

Field's brows crinkled.

Perhaps he wouldn't laugh. More likely he'd merely lift a dark, infuriating brow with eyes full of judgment and would never let a day go by without reminding him of it.

His eyes narrowed on her through the window.

Was this how she pretended nothing happened? By avoiding him?

A snort.

Just how long are you going to keep it up, you little minx?

His back straightened as she glanced back at the house before beginning to make her way to the door. Mrs. Bell had informed him moments ago that they would lunch on the stew she prepared yesterday, and they could help themselves in the kitchen. She should have informed Theodosia by now as well.

His eyes moved in the direction of the kitchen, and his feet soon followed suit.

She should be famished.

He lowered himself into a kitchen chair, tapping the table with a finger. He didn't have to wait long before she appeared in the doorway, jolting to a halt when her gaze landed on him. His body did a little jolt of its own.

"Mrs. Bell set out the stew you requested." Christ. What was that? Stating the glaringly obvious?

She gave a brief nod and entered, taking a seat opposite him. As if they were commonplace acquaintances and not lovers in... in...

He froze.

Lovers?

Field almost groaned.

She gave a small cough. "A marvelous day, is it not?"

A marvelous day? Field cast her a worried glance. Who are you and what did you do to Theodosia? "It would have been a touch better if we had the papers to read up on some gossip to chew on alongside our food."

Lord, who the hell was he?

Field reached for the bread. It was about the only thing he could stomach at the moment.

Her throat cleared. "You miss the gossip columns that much?"

He shrugged, buttering his slice. "I like to keep updated on what trouble stirs from certain heiresses."

She paused before giving a thoughtful nod while spreading butter over her own. "I'm also curious to know if anything has been said about my brothers lately."

A chill shot down Field's spine.

By now word would surely have reached her family that she hadn't arrived in Brighton. He couldn't be sure about her family dynamics, but he was certain he didn't want to be caught by Kingsley while traveling alone with his sister.

He valued his life. Or, more to the point, he wanted to continue living.

But that was a worry for another time.

"Oh yes, Mr. Bell mentioned that he has heard rumors about robberies, but apparently not in this area."

"I see," Field said thoughtfully, taking a bite of food. It seemed the threat of the Black Knight might have passed. However, the look in that man's eyes before they blew past him in their escape... It was hard to believe he would just give up.

"It should be safe to leave soon, shouldn't it?"

He nodded, swallowing. "We should get a good rest tonight. Our heads will be clearer tomorrow." He just didn't know how he would pass a night with her in the same bedchamber with him.

She cleared her throat again. "Would you care for a cup of tea? It's still hot."

Field's brows furrowed. The awkwardness between them seemed to have settled in a most disconcerting way. He hated this. He preferred the biting comments over this, to be honest, so he said with just a hint of devilry, "I shall love a cup of tea, so long as it's not poisoned?"

Her gaze flew to his. She blinked. "What's with the smile?"

He pointed at his cheek. "This smile? It's my best one."

An odd look crossed her features. "It's really not." She poured them both tea, but he detected a hint of a smile emerging. "Drink the poison. It will help settle your stomach."

He accepted the cup. "Thank you."

"Field Savage, you are being rather too nice to me. It's unnerving."

"What about you?" he prodded. "To be blunt, this awkwardness is even more unsettling to me. This whole morning has been." He'd almost marched down that damn lane and dragged her back to the house because the tension in their distance had been more unbearable than any tension that could run between them together.

"Well, I do agree." She took a sip of tea. "About my request this morning..."

"The one to pretend our night together never happened?"

Her eyes darted to his before she averted her gaze again. "Yes, we should—"

"Wait," Field interrupted. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to hear whatever she brought up on the matter. God help him, he might just demand everything she didn't want to hear. Perhaps more. He shot to his feet, swallowing the tea in one go, but losing all other appetite. "I need to leave."

Her head snapped back. "You are what? When? Why?"

"Not to worry, I'm just going to ride out and see if I can confirm what Mr. Bell has heard. We'll talk later." His gaze dropped to where a smidgeon of butter glistened on her lips. He wanted to capture spot with his tongue.

Field inwardly groaned.

What the devil is wrong with me?

An adult man didn't act like this. Grown men had discipline, strength, sound-mindedness. Could he ever again claim such qualities for himself after forcing his body into a dress and wearing a bonnet? After being called "bonnet man?"

Ah hell, why did he have to remember that of all things?

"I wish to go with you." She suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

Field started, then shook his head. "No."

"No?" His answer seemed to have caught her off guard. "Why ever not?"

"It's too dangerous."

"Honestly? We stole a horse back from highwaymen. How can ferreting out word of them be more dangerous?"

"The danger doesn't lie with highwaymen." It lies with me. You.

"Then what is the problem?" she asked.

A sudden, delightful thought occurred to him. "Theodosia King, are you worried over me?" He smiled rather suggestively. He couldn't help it.

"Do not be absurd," she muttered. "Why would I worry about a big, surly hellion?"

"Perhaps you don't hate me as much as you thought."

"Don't get your hopes up, Saville."

He chuckled. Just who was the surly one here? "Get some rest. It's better to just have one fatigued frame setting out than two."

It would give him some time to cool down, too. He had thought when she was keeping her distance that more space was simply more unbearable, and while true, even being in the same room with her to eat a bit of lunch was also wreaking havoc on his emotional equilibrium. But he could admit that he didn't want to widen the gap between them. He just needed to gather his wits, decide how to handle what happened between them.

Only then would he be able to calmly talk.

Because he couldn't pretend what happened never happened.

He didn't want to.

"I still think I should accompany you," she said.

Field arched a brow. "Very well, if you keep on insisting, who I am I to deny you?" He shrugged. "But what if your brothers are scouring the countryside and we run into them?"

Her face flushed. "You go, then, but don't come crying to me if you get hurt."

"You say that now, but . . ."

Field chuckled at her frosty stare. This was the stare he'd grown fond of. Teasing Theodosia King might become the greatest pastime of his life.

Perhaps it already had.

Yes, a ride in the countryside would be just what he needed to get his head in order. And the sooner the better. Before he they really were found by the Kings and he lost much more than his future.