Chapter Fourteen

T heodosia had long considered food to be a cure-all for all foul moods, and now, a hangover. What it did not cure, however, was the urge to hit a certain earl, or the desire to kiss him. A desire, Theodosia told herself, that was surely born of an even deeper urge to shake him senseless.

Where was the blasted man, anyway? It had been three hours since he'd left to hunt down information on their pursuers. Three hours she'd been left to her own devices. Left obsessing whether she should have insisted harder to join him.

She peered into the empty stall in Mr. Bell's barn where Dream had been merrily nibbling his hay before Saville had saddled him and ridden away.

She'd much rather have plodded along on one of the other horses than wonder whether Saville was all right.

Worry if he was all right.

They had to leave soon unless the news he brought back wasn't favorable, which she couldn't imagine it would be. Also, unless her mother had achieved a miracle, her brothers—at least Seth—must be on the move in search of her by now.

Oh, Lord, what if Field, Saville , did run into her brothers? They wouldn't suspect they were traveling together, would they?

Theodosia sighed.

If she were to be caught here alone with him... Even if her brothers looked past that difficult-to-justify fact, Theodosia was a terrible liar and her brothers knew all her tells. Even now, just thinking of her body entwining with Saville's, her face flushed with heat.

Yes, she was fighting a losing battle.

She'd done fine before lunch, or she thought she had, but the moment he'd dashed off atop Dream, the edges of her nerves had begun to fray.

Urgh! I hate waiting!

She should use this time in more productive ways, shouldn't she? Such as resting, not wearing the floor of the barn thin with her restlessness. Lord, the only thing more unbearable than traveling with a handsome enemy was being aware of him on a level that defied any level of attraction she had experienced before.

Perhaps this space between them was good, after all.

Or perhaps not. She hated to admit that earlier—when he was still at least on the property—she had felt rather calmer.

Theodosia paused.

She would never admit this to anyone—absolutely anyone—but the man did have a way of making his presence thoroughly felt once his incessant, aggravating looks and playful smirks were absent.

"What am I even thinking? Surely I don't feel nostalgic for his vexing mouth." She shook her head. "Impossible."

She tapped her foot, her gaze darting to the empty stall again. That vexing mouth had turned rather sweet of late.

"Lady Theodosia?" A voice pierced through her woolgathering. "Is that you?"

Theodosia started and whirled around to find George Clifton, the Earl of Sandgrove striding over to her.

"Sandgrove?" She peered around the yard. She hadn't even heard his carriage approach. "Where did you come from? More the point, what are you doing here?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Bell are distant relatives of mine. This is my land. I visit them ever so often to enquire about their health."

Theodosia's mind raced. Of all the rotten luck. "Well, this is certainly a surprise."

"I'll say." He beamed at her. "What about you? How are you here?"

"I..." Lord, how to explain. Of all the places she and Saville could have landed, it was suddenly looking like this might turn out to be one of the worst.

Lord Sandgrove was their longtime neighbor in Brighton. They were friends, of sorts . Good acquaintances. Did she tell the truth? Weave a clever lie? Would he leave before Field returned? She didn't want to spin a tale only to be caught in its web later, with no way to extract herself.

"I was set upon highwaymen," Theodosia admitted, deciding to stay as close to the truth as possible. For the most part, her life wasn't any of his business, and she did not owe Sandgrove any explanation. But it would be very awkward to say nothing, especially as this was his land, and whatever she did tell him, she'd have to be comfortable with reaching her brothers. "Mr. and Mrs. Bell took me in."

The blood drained from his face. "Highwaymen? Wait, don't tell me..." His eyes widened. "No, it cannot be."

Theo went on alert. "What? Have you heard anything about the highwaymen?" Had something happened to Field?

"Well, yes, I have. I've just come from the magistrate of this area. He is a friend, you see, and he mentioned that a famous highwayman that goes by the moniker Black Knight is searching these parts for a woman dressed as a man and a man dressed as a woman." He suddenly laughed. "How preposterous is that?"

"Yes, how preposterous." She gripped the skirts of the plain frock she'd borrowed from Mrs. Bell while her trousers were drying after being washed. It was fortunate that she wasn't wearing them now. "How did the magistrate come to learn that this Black Knight is looking for such an odd pair?"

"Oh, he is quite clever. One of his men has recently infiltrated the band. They are just waiting for an opportunity to apprehend the brigands."

"You don't say," she murmured. "Is that all you've heard?"

"Only that they robbed the Black Knight and injured one of his men. The band is now scouring the countryside for their thieves."

Field . . .

Would he be safe?

Sandgrove strode over to her and took her hand in his. "Are you all right? You weren't harmed?"

"No," Theodosia said, a pinch of guilt forming in her breast at his concerned gaze. She'd never known the man to be anything but nice, so misleading him, even with partial truths, felt like tricking her youngest brother to do her bidding. "Rest assured, the only thing harmed was my dignity." At his frown, she clarified, "My maid and driver betrayed me to them, but they left me unharmed. Also..." She paused.

How to tell him about Field?

Sandgrove looked past her and stilled, the sound of trotting hooves reaching her ears at the same time his mouth gaped like a fish before he spluttered, " Saville? What the devil are you doing here?"

She looked over.

And her breath caught.

His hair had become windswept, and at some point in time he had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Since he wore no jacket, it only magnified this untamed appearance of his.

"Could ask the same of you, Sandgrove." Saville's gaze dropped where the earl was still clasping her hand.

Theodosia snatched back her hand as though she'd touched a hot iron, and then cursed herself for acting as though being caught in an illicit affair. "I see no introduction is necessary." Thank the Almighty Lord he was also dressed more appropriately today. Field in a bonnet would be telltale indeed.

"Indeed," Sandgrove said, returning his attention to Theodosia. "But I'm rather confused by his presence, Lady Theodosia."

Saville's lips lifted in a sneer. "Likewise."

Lord, save me.

She inhaled a deep, fortifying breath. She smiled at Sandgrove. "The earl encountered me on the road. He helped me when I had no one else."

Sandgrove glanced between the two. "Helped you?" came his skeptical probe. "Then how did you end up here? Why not send you back to her family? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Theodosia frowned at Sandgrove's choice of words.

Saville's careless shrug belied the hard edge that entered his gaze. "I was robbed by the highwaymen, too."

"I see." Sandgrove gave them an uncertain look. "I suppose there was nothing else to do but seek shelter at that point."

Theodosia couldn't take the tension rising between the men anymore, so she said to Sandgrove. "We also encountered a suspicious group of people on our way and offended them, as well. That is another reason we sought shelter here."

Sandgrove once more reached for her hand. "What a travesty! You must be quite exhausted from shock!"

"Theodosia is exhausted, all right," Field said, dismounting from his horse and sauntering over. She caught his look at their hands again. "But not from shock."

"Saville," Theodosia bit out, shooting a warning look his way while she extracted her hand from the tight grip of Sandgrove once more.

"My apologies, I must have misspoken," the rogue said innocently. "My recollection is a bit jumbled."

She snorted, trying hard not to notice how Sandgrove's gaze flicked between the two of them. "I'd say they more than jumbled," she muttered.

He suddenly grinned at her, and Theodosia's pulse leaped at the glint that spread to his gaze. He reminded her of a cat that found a mouse to pounce on. "Well, I am trying very hard to pretend about—"

"Oh!" Theodosia exclaimed, cutting the scoundrel off. Was he set on causing her heart to stop? "I think I heard Mrs. Bell!"

Not wanting to cause suspicion by lingering, and wanting to get away from Sandgrove's questioning and the burning wickedness of Saville's gaze, she turned and made for the kitchen. She made it as far as the door of the house before a hand gripped her arm.

"Why are you running away?" Saville asked in sweet voice. "You and Sandgrove seem quite close, holding hands and all, yet you leave him in the dust?"

She scowled his way. "Are you jealous?"

"Perhaps I am."

Oh, what those words did to her pulse. It made her want to giggle with delight and laugh at the absurdity of it all at the same time. Field Savage. Jealous. Her heart could skip at that thought all day. But because of Sandgrove ? Because he took her hand? Honestly! "He and I are not close at all!" She poked a finger at him. "And just what were you thinking saying those things?"

A sheepish look crossed his face.

A throat cleared.

Theodosia glanced at Sandgrove, who had followed them. All good nature had left his face. "There seems to be something I'm missing."

Before she could answer, Saville interjected, "Well as you've only just arrived, wouldn't it be normal to be missing nearly everything?"

Sandgrove looked at Theodosia, raising a brow.

Oh, dear lord. Why Sandgrove of all men? She might as well have run into her brothers!

Saville's large body moved, obstructing her view. "She doesn't need to explain herself to you, Sandgrove." He glanced back at her. "You don't have to explain yourself to him."

"She will still have to explain all this to her brothers."

Theodosia could practically see Saville's feathers ruffling and shooting in all directions.

"Are you threatening us?" Saville demanded.

"Us?" Sandgrove's tone turned mocking. "Aren't you just Lady Theodosia's savior?"

Theodosia frowned, stepping out from behind Saville. This was the first time she'd ever heard such a tone from Sandgrove. "Yes, he is my savior. And I daresay our predicament is no real concern of yours."

"How can you say that? When I heard you'd suddenly retired from London—and deduced why—I knew I must call on you in Brighton when you arrived. Thank God I had the foresight to call on your family this morning—you can't imagine their worry. And I resolved to search for news of what might have become of you as I made my rounds today. Who knows what might have happened if I hadn't."

Theodosia stared at the man, not quite sure what to say. What might have happened if he hadn't come here today looking for signs of her? Hah! She might have gotten away with everything. Now, no matter what, her brothers would learn of this, and that she had Saville at her side the whole time.

"What do you think would have happened if you hadn't arrived, Sandgrove?" Saville asked before she could find the words to respond.

"Do you even need to ask?" Sandgrove retorted. "You will be the ruin of her."

Saville snorted in answer.

Well . . .

"Lady Theodosia." Sandgrove turned his gaze to her. "I understand this man saved you, but you don't have to put up with him anymore."

" This man takes offense at being called this man ." Saville crossed his arms over his chest. "Especially coming from a pup with dismal taste in clothes." His gaze dropped to Sandgrove's waistcoat. "Who is your tailor? I shall have to avoid him at all costs."

"Timothy Britton." Sandgrove straightened his shoulders. "And I'll let you know, he is a tailor with exceptional skill."

"You can say that with a straight face with stitching like that?" Saville arched a mocking brow. "I've heard of that infant Timothy Britton. He is the cheapest in the industry."

Sandgrove puffed up like a pufferfish. "Hogwash!"

What on earth were they going on about?

"Anyone who has done their research on tailors knows this, which is why he is popular with the impoverished."

Sandgrove bristled. "You are a menace on society, Saville. Have you not caused enough trouble? And now you cling to Lady Theodosia."

"Sandgrove," Theodosia admonished.

Saville shrugged. "I'm not offended, Theodosia. If the earl is referring to my involvement in the list, he is not incorrect. The clinging part is true, too."

Her gaze swung to his, and he winked, causing her butterflies to erupt in her belly. Why on earth would he admit to something like that?

"So the rumors are true," Sandgrove said flatly.

"There are so many, you shall have to be more specific, Sandgrove."

"Lady Theodosia," Sandgrove spoke. "I beg to have a moment of your time alone."

Must I? She'd rather just listen to him and Saville bicker. She'd thought before that she didn't want to weave a web she couldn't untangle herself from, well, here it was. The web. And she had no idea how to untangle herself!

Saville shook his head. "That's not happening.'"

"I beg your pardon," Sandgrove said in a huff. "I need to have a word with Lady Theodosia about the blackguards who are best to be avoided at all costs."

Saville snorted. "We were just discussing that very topic before you interrupted us with a nose that—"

"Field!" Theodosia hissed.

Saville shot her a quick glance, but his lips quirked upward.

Oh, Lord.

She shouldn't have outright called him by his name, and one glance at Sandgrove's wide eyes confirmed it. Theodosia pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Well, Sandgrove, if you will excuse us, Theodosia and I have matters to discuss."

The earl's face hardened. "You have such an overbearing demeanor for a man of your ilk. No wonder your father beat you."

Theo's eyes widened. " Sandgrove ." How could he say such a thing?

Saville's face went blank. "What the hell did you say to me?"

"Ah, Sandgrove, dear," a soft voice entered the fray. "You're here, too?"

Thank goodness.

Saved by Mrs. Bell.

*

Field subjected Sandgrove to his most menacing glare, but he swallowed his fury and held back the urge to punch the man in his face. Memories flashed, and he tried his damnedest to push them back down. He didn't want to falter now. Not with Theodosia next to him. Not with this halfwit's eyes on them. What conclusions would she draw from what Sandgrove had said?

Christ.

He still hadn't processed what happened between him and Theodosia last night, and now he had to deal with this fool? A dolt who was now purposely goading him?

Did he know Field?

Despite the emotions raging inside him, Field managed a smile for Mrs. Bell.

"I didn't know you were acquainted with our Sandgrove, here," Mrs. Bell said. "How marvelous."

Field inclined his head. "Marvelous indeed."

"Yes," Theodosia murmured politely. "We are well acquainted."

Sandgrove said nothing.

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Bell said. "I forgot to tell you that your clothing has been washed. I placed everything in your room. Unfortunately, the dress is ruined beyond repair. There is no helping it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bell," Theodosia said. "We are in your debt."

Field also nodded his thanks. You are in my debt, boy. Damn it. He viciously pushed that distasteful thought back into the far reaches of his mind.

The woman laughed. "Oh, it's nothing. You are both most welcome."

" Their room?" Sandgrove questioned.

"Quite right," Mrs. Bell said. "No harm, no harm. Family is family."

"Aren't there three bedchambers in the house?" Sandgrove demanded. "What's wrong with the third?"

"It's being used as a storage room, so we placed that bed in the second chamber as well. Why? Is anything amiss?" Mrs. Bell asked.

Theodosia glanced at Field.

He smiled at her before directing to Mrs. Bell, "Nothing is amiss. We have been most grateful you had a room for us." He ignored Sandgrove's narrowed look. But a tiny part of him couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of satisfaction, the vision of Sandgrove holding Theodosia's hand still burning in his mind. Theodosia may have forgotten about his hands, but Sandgrove would not have forgotten about hers. The man deserved to feel rather less sure of himself when it came to Theodosia. Quite a lot less.

What rotten luck was this anyway? He'd only left for a few hours and returned to find a sight that quite literally hurt his eyes.

Quite frankly, it reminded him of her wish to pretend nothing happened. How it might look if they didn't pretend. He could play along for a while, but given his well-known explosion after he'd discovered that his sister and his best friend had kissed, he couldn't get past how he seemed to be turning into the world's worst sort of hypocrite.

Warrick would be shaking of laughter right about now. However, he now had firsthand experience of what his friend must have felt like after his sister had rejected him.

What had Warrick done?

Ah, yes. He had acquiesced to Selena's wishes to the point that it had almost killed Field. Should he do the same with Theodosia? The alternative was even more frightening. Damn it, one night. One night and his world had turned upside down.

Sandgrove straightened his shoulders, and announced, "I'll be staying tonight, as well."

Field's eyes narrowed on the man. And now this clod entered the fray.

"That won't do, dear," Mrs. Bell said. "There is no room."

Hear that, Sandgrove?

"I fear it is already growing too late for me to return home. so we , Saville and I, can sleep in the room you are using for storage. Allow the lady some space."

Late? What utter nonsense. Field refrained from rolling his eyes in front of Mrs. Bell. "And what shall we sleep on? The floor?" Next to Sandgrove? Not happening. Ever.

"I'm sure we can make a plan," Sandgrove pressed.

"Sadly, I have this affliction where I cannot share a chamber with anyone I do not know as well as I know my own family." And certainly, if he was going to go to hell at the hands of her brothers, which seemed all the more likely with Sandgrove's arrival, he was not spending what might be his last night with the man whose grubby hands had pawed Theodosia.

Sandgrove turned to stone. "Or we could all retire to the nearest inn."

We all? No, thank you. How to get rid of this damn nuance?

"That won't be necessary," Theodosia stepped in to say. "We've already settled in here, and Mrs. Bell has kindly insisted that we stay here as long as is necessary."

"Yes," Mrs. Bell agreed. "Though it will certainly be more comfortable for you if you wish to go find lodgings for the night, my dear."

"And leave Lady Theodosia with London's biggest villain?"

"That's a bit harsh, Sandgrove," Mrs. Bell admonished. "They are family."

Sandgrove's jaw clenched, but his only response was to shoot daggers at him.

"Thank you," Field said, ignoring that look. His gaze touched Theodosia, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Did you hear that? I'm the biggest villain in London."

A soft brow arched. "You only realize that now?"

"Minx."

"Hellion," she shot back.

Field shrugged, the tightness in his chest unclamping a bit. "Or a hero, depending on your frame of mind."

Mrs. Bell chuckled. "See, Sandgrove, dear? They are most beloved of each other."

Hear that, Sandgrove?

"Enough," Sandgrove said with a touch of annoyance. "I will stay here, Mrs. Bell, whether I sleep on the floor or the roof."

The older woman sighed. "Very well, dear. As you wish."

The blackguard smirked at Field.

Field turned to Theodosia. "A moment please," he sent a provoking look back at Sandgrove, "in private."

Theodosia nodded. And this time, Sandgrove didn't protest. He also hadn't outed them to Mrs. Bell, but that didn't mean much to Field. Instinct told him the earl had other intentions.

The moment they were out of earshot, she complained, "That Sandgrove. How annoying."

Field's sentiments exactly. He stilled. Then again, how novel to witness an earl other than himself being on the sharp edge of her ire for a change. "Right. I don't get a good feeling from him, either."

Her gaze lifted to lock with his. "What feeling do you get from him?"

"A true weed that's sprouted up."

She laughed. "Really?"

Field lifted his shoulders dramatically. "What can I say? He is an unpleasant sight." Sandgrove definitely rubbed him wrong. "How do you know each other?"

"He has a neighboring estate in Brighton."

It was even worse than he thought. "He is going to send word to your brothers, isn't he?"

"Most likely."

As he suspected. He might as well give up slipping through the fingers of her brothers. Sandgrove would run straight to Kingsley the moment he turned his back.

Theodosia clutched his sleeve and pulled him into their chamber. The moment the door shut, she cast him an uncertain look. "What Sandgrove said..."

The tightness in his chest returned. Damn it. "Don't give it any thought."

"It was unforgivably rude to say such a thing."

Field bit down on his jaw and averted his gaze. "But it's true, and even worse than you might imagine," he admitted, almost instantly regretting it. Why the devil did he say that? While it wasn't exactly a secret that the late earl had loved to use his fists on his son, he'd never spoken about it to anyone. Not even Warrick.

"I'm sorry."

He shot her a hard look. "I don't need your pity."

She shook her head. "It's not pity. No child should go through that. Parents should protect their children."

He searched her gaze. Her eyes had softened, but no it was true—no pity was reflected in them. Some of the tightness in his chest eased again. "Yes, well, it's all in the past now. I don't like to talk about it." He paused. "You're the first person with whom I've ever touched on the subject."

Her eyes widened. "Me? The first? What about—"

"I don't talk about the past with anyone, Theodosia," Field interrupted. He needed her to understand that this was not a topic he discussed lightly—he didn't discuss it ever. Not even when he was a boy and his mother nursed him back to health did he utter a word about what he had gone through, even though the bruises on his body were evidence enough. God only knew why he'd opened his mouth to speak the truth of Sandgrove's biting comment into existence now. "Not even Selena."

"She doesn't know?" Theodosia asked softly.

Field shook his head. "She deserved a childhood free of pain and worry."

"What about now?"

"Now it's still not her burden to bear." He would protect her from the truth no matter what. "Our father has been dead for a long time, and my mother is happily married in Scotland. Selena is on her way to being happily married. There is no need to tip a boat in still waters."

"Very well, I understand." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Thank you for telling me."

Field eyed her askance, unsure what to make of that soft tone. "I didn't tell you anything much."

"And yet it feels like you revealed it all."

Field honestly didn't know how to respond to that.

"We need to leave, don't we?" Theodosia continued after a pause.

Field nodded in relief, both for the topic change as well as what the topic changed to. "He will stick to you all the way to Brighton, or to Kingsley, whichever comes first."

"Then what do you propose? If we just leave, he will also send for my brothers the moment we disappear."

"Yes, how troublesome," Field half muttered, half grumbled, thinking over their options. There weren't that many, though.

"Any grand plans?" Theodosia asked.

One. "We leave tonight." A smile suddenly tugged his lips. "And we borrow his carriage."

Her eyes widened. "What about Dream?"

"We can tether him to the carriage. That's not a problem."'

She suddenly sighed. "My brothers... While I do not wish to be caught by them, it seems that we already have."

She wasn't wrong. If ever there was a time to give up on this adventure, this was it. They had the book, after all. They had completed their mission. But Field didn't want it to end. Not like this. Not before they figured out how to go forward without having to pretend last night had never happened. "What will they do if they find you?"

"Lord, I do not even wish to contemplate that."

"They won't let you out of their sight again, that is for certain. We got the book back." His mind raced. "Now all we need is to guarantee its safety before we face Kingsley's wrath. At least maybe—hopefully—it will make their wrath worth facing."

Theodosia strode over to her cot and pulled the satchel out from underneath. "This book..."

"Yes. That book," Field murmured. The object of much vexation. "Now that I think about it, it might not be the worst thing if your brothers are scouring the countryside for you while highwaymen are on the prowl."

She looked over to him. "You mean to use them?"

"Well, it wouldn't exactly be using them."

A sparkle returned to her eyes. "Nevertheless, I take your meaning. We might slip through the cracks." She nodded her agreement. "Where will we go?"

"Are you not on your way to Brighton?"

"That was the plan at first, but . . ."

But... a great deal had happened since. "Perhaps we should consider getting the book back to London," Field suggested.

She scrunched her brow in thought. "Louisa should take it for safekeeping. Lord knows it doesn't seem to want to stay in my hands, cursed thing."

"Mortimer should take the bloody book. Seems he should just take it since he is the one who needs it for evidence."

"Yes, but we don't know where the duke is, and I do know where Louisa is."

"Where is she?" Field asked, hoping to the gods it wasn't too far from where they were now.

"Ashford."

"Ashford? What is she doing there?"

"What am I doing here?" she countered.

"Fair point."

Field inhaled a deep breath, feeling as though the pit that had formed in his stomach earlier that day was finally easing. "Then we leave for Ashford."