Chapter Eighteen

Hannah was finishing her hair when Red re-entered the room. The habit of him vanishing while she readied herself for the day had become rather like the routine of a married couple, though today he had reason to vanish—he had been hunting out transport for them.

She glanced at him in the mirror. "Any luck?"

He shook his head. "I swear there is not a carriage in this whole damned town for hire." He tugged off his hat and laid it on the bed to push a hand through his hair. "The nearest mail coach goes from Taunton—the very place we need to be. Everything goes from bloody Taunton."

Hannah pushed a clip into her hair. She might have few belongings, but at least she had come away with enough grips in her hair to ensure that could be neat for the rest of their journey. As for her dress...well she was fast looking as though she had been living in the gutter. It was relatively stain-free, but there were a few mud splotches on the hem and creases from how she had been sitting on the coach. She grimaced at her reflection.

"We could walk?"

"It would take two days, and who knows if there is an inn on the way."

"Perhaps—oh." She paused and tugged her hand. She twisted to eye her reflection and saw her glove had become caught in her hair by one of the buttons. Trying to wriggle it free, she winced as her hair pulled.

"Is there a problem?"

His smug expression made her lift her chin and reply no. Red did so delight in her frustrations at times. She twisted her wrist and pulled again. "Damnation," she muttered under her breath.

"Such language."

She narrowed her gaze at him. "Will you help me please?"

He came closer and tilted his head to view the disaster she had tangled herself up in. Literally. "I quite like you like this. At least you cannot slap me."

"I have a free hand," she warned him. "Anyway, why would I slap you?"

He smirked at her in the mirror. "If you cannot imagine why, I will not say a word." He grasped her wrist. "Keep still," Red ordered.

Hannah obeyed and waited while he carefully released the button from the tangle of curls. He smoothed out her hair and put both arms around her to take her gloved wrist in his hands. Her gaze met his in the reflection. The position could hardly be more intimate. Her back was to his chest, her bottom nestled against his—

Anyway, his arms enveloped her and his face was beside hers. He tweaked the button that had become caught and did it up once more.

His gaze lifted back to hers, and he kept hold of her wrist in one hand. The other came to the side of her face and pushed aside the mess that was now her hair. His breath whispered across her ear, making her tremble.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"I wish I knew."

He pressed a kiss to just beneath her ear. The kiss was light, so feather-light. It should not have felt like anything but the brief touch of lips, but it sent tingles racing through her, and her entire body flamed in an instant.

"You're too damned beautiful, Hannah," Red said before releasing her.

She gaped at her reflection. How could he kiss her and say something like that then just release her?

He snatched up his hat. "I'm going to make some more inquiries."

Hannah had been unable to move until he shut the door. The latch clinking into place jolted her from the dreamlike state in which she'd found herself. She lifted fingers to her neck and touched her skin, still tingling from his kiss.

She was too beautiful? She eyed herself in the mirror. At present, she was a mess. Her hair was wild, her gown creased. Underneath that, perhaps she was pretty, but beautiful? No.

More puzzling was the fact he had admitted he did not know what he was doing when he embraced her. Red seemed like the sort of man who always knew what he was doing and when he was doing it. That he had even confessed as much to her made her soften to him. Some small part of him was unsure of himself and seeing that vulnerability made her want to know more. What else was under that arrogant, confident exterior? Those were elements of him to be certain, but she needed to find out more. The Earl of Redmere called for much closer study. She had four days at least, maybe more. Surely someone like herself could figure him out by then?

Finishing her hair, she pulled on her bonnet and put on her pelisse which covered the worst of the muck on her dress. It looked to be a relatively cool day but at least it was dry. If they were to walk, she wanted to be prepared.

Red was not in the inn so she stepped out into the courtyard only to be accosted by Lady Crawford.

"I have wonderful, wonderful news," the woman declared, motioning frantically to her husband, who was speaking with the driver of what had to be their private carriage.

"Oh yes?"

"Wonderful news," the viscountess repeated. "We have decided to add a few days to our excursion. I have a cousin in Taunton, and we are going to visit with her."

"Oh that's..." Hannah frowned, unsure what the woman expected of her.

"Well, we are going to give you and the earl a ride to Taunton, silly girl. Is that not wonderful?"

Hannah blinked. "Oh you really should not..."

The viscount strode over, his wide form bumbling across the courtyard. "I take it my dear wife has informed you we are to be travelling partners once more." He grinned widely. "One of the stable hands said you were struggling to find transport, and, well, we have transport and are not indisposed to extending our little break away from home, so we thought why not? I will confess it was my wife's idea, however, so I must not take credit."

"Oh, Lord Crawford, you suggested as much last night before we even knew of the transport troubles."

His ruddy cheeks reddened. "You did put the idea of visiting Taunton in my head, that I will admit. I only commented to my wife that it was a shame we could not continue our travels with you delightful young people. I have not enjoyed a jaunt across the country so much in a long time."

Hannah peered around for Red. "I am flattered indeed, I—"

"You get yourself ready and find that dashing earl. We shall be waiting," Lady Crawford insisted.

"Of course. We shall not be long." Hannah dashed away and paused. "Thank you."

She hastened out of the courtyard and studied the street in front of the inn. Where was he? He must be going to great lengths to secure some transport. She finally spotted him striding up the street, his gait determined but clearly frustrated.

"No luck?"

He shook his head. "I swear there is not even a farmer's cart to take us onward. This place is stuck in the medieval times." He scowled. "No, earlier than that. At least they had carriages and those boxes for hefting people about."

"I have some good news," she spilled out. "The Viscount and Viscountess Crawford have offered to take us on to Taunton."

Red stilled. "The Crawfords?"

"Indeed. They adore us so much that they have decided to visit some relations in Taunton and take us with them."

"Those Crawfords seem to have relations everywhere. I should make a note so I can begin avoiding all these places."

Hannah chuckled. It was true. Not only did Lady Crawford have many, many nieces and nephews, they had both related tales of family members across the breadth of England. Their family was prolific in numbers.

"They are waiting for us," she prompted. "We ought to hurry."

Face grim, he glanced up and down the street as though some other solution would prevent itself.

"This is our only opportunity, Red." She curled her fingers around his arm. "I just know it."

An eyebrow lifted at her declaration. "A carriage will turn up eventually. This is a damned coaching inn, after all."

She shook her head. "Eventually, but how long will we have to wait? This is our only chance, I'm sure of it."

"Your gut is speaking to you?"

Lifting a shoulder, she smiled. "Perhaps. But logically we cannot sit around when there is perfectly good transport out there, regardless of how much you loathe the company."

"I shall have trouble being polite for much longer," he grumbled. "The chances are I shall be rude, and they shall kick us out of the carriage on our arses."

"I do not think that's a possibility. Apparently they think we are simply wonderful and what we have done to deserve such accolades, I cannot tell you, but there we have it."

He hefted in a breath and released it slowly, giving the empty street one longing look, likely hoping a carriage travelling directly to Taunton would appear.

"Come on then, let us get ready."

They returned to their room and gathered their belongings. At least with minimal possessions, it did not take them long to be loaded up and on their way. The additional journey time and a stay in a strange bed had not dulled the Crawfords' mood. In fact, it seemed to have buoyed them.

Hannah glanced at Red to see his jaw twitching. Every now and then she gave his arm a squeeze, much like she had before, willing him to remain polite and quiet. She did most of the talking but Red's silence did not go unnoticed.

"You are terribly quiet today, my lord," Lady Crawford observed. "Was your room not to your liking? Bad night perhaps?"

"I slept like the dead," Lord Crawford declared.

"That you did," his wife agreed. "You were out within an instant, your mouth wide open like a frog wanting to catch flies."

Hannah giggled at the image.

"I slept well enough," Red said.

"Travelling does weary one, though," Hannah put in. Why Red could not make an excuse for himself, she did not know. She wished he would, even if it was a lie.

"Not to worry, we have a little stop planned at this charming village in which I grew up," Lady Crawford said with a smile. "It was where I met my dear Lord Crawford. He lured me away from it but whenever we go through, I insist on stopping to admire it." She sighed. "It has the most charming village green, and the church is medieval. You will think it quite charming, Miss St. John, I am certain of that."

"And by that, my wife means you must love it or else she shall be in a sulk for the rest of the day."

The viscountess shook her head. "He is a tease. I would never sulk. But I confess part of me always wishes visitors to adore it as much as I. Which is, of course, impossible because they never grew up there."

Hannah focused her attention on the passing countryside. Slowly, as they had moved inland, it had grown greener with more trees and hazel bushes sprouting up on the roadsides and dissecting the fields. The roads wound up hills, then back down them, and they passed some farmer's cottages, tucked carefully between the fields. Sheep were scattered across some but most looked to be for crop.

She knew when they were nearing the village as Lady Crawford could scarce keep still. They entered what was indeed a charming village, with white cottages lining the main street through it. The green sat ahead and the carriage drew to a stop by it. One wide oak tree occupied the center of the grass and cast its leafy shade wide across it.

Lady Crawford pushed herself out of her seat. "I must visit the village shop. They do the best fudge in all of England. Will you join us or perhaps you would prefer to stretch your legs? The earl needs a little something to lift his spirits I think."

"A little walk would do us good, thank you."

"Excellent." The viscount beamed. "We shan't be long." He laughed. "Well, we might be if my wife wishes to converse with every member of the village, but I vow to hasten her along."

Hannah and Red opted to stroll across the green toward the old oak tree. She ran her hands across the old bark, still sturdy and strong, even with a few names carved into it, some with love hearts etched clumsily around them, others written just to let people know they were there. She traced the shape of one lopsided heart. How long had it been there? Were the couple still in love or had time changed that?

"What shall you do after London?"

She turned to peer at Red. The question should not have surprised her but they had talked so little about their lives after this event. "Return home, of course."

"And?"

"Does there have to be an and?"

A smile quirked his lips. "Nothing is ever so simple with you, Hannah. Will you do more work for your father? Am I to expect you to crop up in Cornwall once more, demanding my aid?"

She shook her head. "Father has recovered a few artifacts, but none are as important as the stone. They can wait for transport."

Clouds drifted lazily across the sun, turning what had been a relatively clear day grey. She tucked herself under the shadows of the oak branches and tilted her head to eye Red.

"What of you? You will resume smuggling I suppose."

"That is the plan."

"Back to a life of crime."

"If that is how you want to think of it."

"It is not up to me how I think of it. The law says it's a crime."

"The law is often wrong."

She laughed. "It is wrong on many occasions. However, I do not think there is any moral argument for smuggling. It is used to line the pockets of unscrupulous men."

And sometimes she forgot this about Red. He might be an earl. He might look every inch the gentleman in his necktie and beautifully cut waistcoat and jacket. He was a smuggler, and she should remember that.

He took a step closer, entering the shelter of the trees and invading her space. He did it deliberately, she decided. The slow step forward, the way his eyes somehow darkened, the intense expression, and how he towered over her. Well, perhaps he could not help his height but the rest was intentional.

Whether he was trying to intimidate or something else, was another thing. The flutter in her stomach was not from fear that was for certain so if he was trying to make her see him as dark and dangerous, he was failing. No, when he came close all she could think on was his lips to her skin or on her mouth. Warmth rushed through her like that rogue wave that had nearly drowned him. But it did not leave her scared and gasping for breath.

She did tremble, though.

"You think me unscrupulous?"

"Of course," she said matter-of-factly. "Look at what I know of you, Red. You deliberately and quite obviously flout the law, and you are entirely proud of it."

"Am I?"

Her back connected with the bark, and she lifted her chin to meet his gaze. He rested a palm upon the tree trunk, almost imprisoning her. He need only place his free hand on the other side, and she would be his prisoner. Hannah drew in a breath.

A willing prisoner at that, she decided. There was no denying it. Rogue or not, she wanted more kisses from him and certainly wanted to be in his embrace. Red was so complex, so mystifying, it was surely the only way to learn more.

"I think you take pride in your lawlessness, yes."

"So Miss Hannah St. John has me marked as the worst of men." His gaze was no longer on hers but following the line of her mouth and occasionally dropping to her neck and the rise of her breasts. She could feel her breathing quicken in response.

"Not the worst of men, no. You do not murder or take advantage of the weak." She smiled. "At least I hope you do not."

"I certainly do not." That other hand finally came up to capture her, holding her in place against the tree.

She could duck out if she really wished, but she did not. Never before had a person fascinated her so. The only time she ever felt so excited and captivated by something was when she was studying the stone. Even then, that had not made her legs feel like custard and her head swim with anticipation. There was, realistically, no comparison to being in Red's company.

"If I were really so unscrupulous," he murmured. "I would have taken you to bed on that first night."

"There was no bed," she pointed out, before she had even processed his words.

When they struck, they struck her hard. All words and rational thought fled her. Had he really been thinking of bedding her? Wishing he was wrapped in her embrace? It was the first time he had given voice to the attraction between them and even then she had not realized he had felt it so keenly.

"I am very inventive," he drawled.

"Helpful trait when one is a smuggler I suppose." The lightness in her voice did not match the weight in her chest. It would only be relieved by a kiss or a touch. An embrace perhaps.

Him taking her to bed?

She shook her head. No, she had not come on this journey for that. This was about history, not some base need. It did not matter that she wanted to learn more of him and perhaps, even herself. She had always considered herself above desire for another person. No one had ever sparked such a thing inside her.

Until Red.

He leaned closer. "If I were a different man, I would have spent all of this journey showing you all of my helpful traits."

"You are assuming that I wanted to see them."

He chuckled. "You do. You would have done. Hannah, even you and all your logic could not deny it."

"I don't need to deny anything."

Red took a sudden step back. "So tell me, in all your logic, what do the facts present you? What do you feel toward me? What is this? Will you tell me you observe nothing between us?"