Chapter 8

Fitz ignored the throbbing in his skull and gave himself over to the moment. He had his little mystery creature bundled up in his arms again, right where he wanted her, and she was kissing him back with a passion that matched his own.

She tasted so bloody good and felt perfect in his arms. Wet tendrils of her hair had come loose, and he fisted his hands in the silky strands near the base of her neck. Tabitha moaned against his mouth and wiggled on his lap. He smiled against her lips, pleased that she seemed to enjoy his rather vigorous handling of her. He could be gentle, and he would be with her, but it was a relief to be himself in this moment and find that she felt the same way. Her hands tugged on his hair and her teeth nipped at his bottom lip in a way that made his body turn hard as stone. She moved her bottom again, and he nearly died at the torturous pleasure he felt as she rubbed against his cock through his trousers.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that if his guests were to discover what he and Tabitha had shared in the last few days, it could force him to offer marriage to her. The thought did not create any of the expected rebellion within him that had always come before at the thought of marriage. If it came down to honor, he would agree and take this bewitching creature as his wife, his friends and their protestations be damned. But something kept him from choosing that fate willingly. Because each moment he thought of how happy he would be with her at his side... the inevitable thought of losing her brought him low and made it hard to breathe. Unwilling to let his thoughts ruin this kiss, he held on to her as if the world might tear her from his grasp at any moment and he would fight to keep her.

Their mouths parted, and she rested her forehead against his. A sudden deep connection to her snapped into place.

"You feel like home," she whispered. She stroked her fingertips at the base of his skull, the touch soothing. "How is that possible?"

"You feel like home to me as well. I can't remember the last time I felt like this... There have been times when I've smelled a certain brand of tobacco and I cannot help but think of my father in his study, or how my mother would be there in a chair reading while he answered his letters." Fitz looked into her eyes as the memories took over, and his heart constricted. "I remember standing in the doorway as a boy once, watching them in that cozy little scene. I didn't know then that such familial joys didn't last, and that one day I would see them like that for the last time. Perhaps it's foolish to dwell on those halcyon days. But kissing you... it brings me home."

Tabitha feathered her lips over his in the ghost of a kiss. "It isn't foolish. I've been so long without a home that my memories of them seem so dim. But when I'm with you, it makes those memories real once more."

"Do you think of your past like that?" he asked. He wanted to believe she had some sunny memories like he did.

She nibbled her bottom lip as if debating whether to speak. But after a steadying breath, she seemed to make a decision.

"Until recently, I felt trapped between my past and no future. I want to be honest with you, Fitz."

He stroked her back gently. "Be honest, then." What kind of admission could make this strong woman hesitate?

"I told you before that my life was not an easy one. The truth is, I was barely surviving," she confessed. "After my father died, I lived with some girls who took me in. They kept me from living on the streets. It was harder than you can possibly imagine."

Fitz had begun to wonder how much she must have suffered. Now he was getting more of the truth and it was breaking him apart to hear it. He didn't dare let her see his pain, not when she needed his strength and his compassion.

He gently took one of her hands in his to examine it. "I had wondered what caused these calluses." When she tried to pull her hand away, he pressed kisses to the pads of her fingertips.

"I keep thinking about how it would shame you to be with me," she whispered. "I am no one, nothing. I know that you are a man who cares about one's social standing."

He let out a weary sigh. "I do, likely too much," he admitted. "I enjoy the comfort of knowing that there is an order to the world, and that I know my place in it. Still, I know it has caused some to despise me, like your cousin. Not long ago, I had a friend who wanted to marry a girl. She was a good woman, I found no fault in her, but her family was so atrocious that marriage would have ruined my friend's life."

She turned away with a scowl. "You know how terrible that is, don't you?"

"Unfair, perhaps, but I did not think it was terrible to be concerned about my friend's future at the time. When you marry someone, you marry their family, and that affects everything you do, not just your social standing. Gentlemen would refuse to do business with my friend because of his father-in-law, and the mother would have brought him shame at balls and parties with her crass behavior. With his business prospects shattered and his social connections severed, he would be bankrupt within a decade. I saved my friend from a slow death."

"Perhaps... but all you did for certain was save him from true happiness," Tabitha countered.

"What happiness would he find if he and his wife became destitute? I have seen men marry for the deepest love in the world and be broken apart when life took its toll upon them. When a man loses his fortune and his home, his happy marriage often is the next thing he loses. Better to never marry than to lose one's wife like that."

"You have no way of knowing it would come to that, yet you are so certain of it. What if you were to stand by his side when others turned away? Would that not send a message? Or do you fear that you would be shunned along with him?"

That honestly hadn't occurred to him, and the fact that he hadn't even considered that as an option left him feeling at a definite loss.

His pride demanded that he challenge Tabitha's presumptions, and yet he found himself without the strength to do so. He had been so sure he had done the right thing. Louis had even thanked him for looking after his interests, yet each time he'd reached out to Louis, his messages hadn't been returned. He'd been busy with his affairs in Edinburgh that he'd simply lost track of the last time he'd shared a drink with his friend. But as he did the count of days in his head now... he realized with dawning horror that he hadn't shared company with his friend since that night Louis had agreed to break off his engagement to Anne Girard. Had his interference truly cost him his friendship?

"I haven't had a true chance to speak to him since that night he agreed to take my advice and cry off the wedding," Fitz said, resigned. "It's as if the last fifteen years of our friendship have vanished. Now that I'm thinking about it, I believe he gave me the cut direct in the card room the other night and I was simply too... bloody arrogant to have noticed his actions for what they were."

Louis had indeed ignored him that night, but the room had been boisterous. Louis had been engaged in discussion with a few other gentlemen Fitz was not acquainted with. Fitz had assumed that Louis was simply busy and would catch up with him later, but it never happened.

Fitz's throat tightened as he spoke of the incident. He'd done his best to dismiss it as his friend merely not seeing him, but now that he was telling Tabitha about it, all the guilt he felt and the hollowness of losing his friend came crashing back. He found it hard to breathe.

Tabitha stiffened in his arms. "Then I certainly would not be good enough for you." Her tone no longer held any bite, nor any accusation, but he heard the sorrow in her voice. She slid off his lap, and the loss of her warmth left him as cold as the deep of winter.

"Fitz, we must stop this before we go too far." The resolve in her expression turned that coldness creeping through him into a dark, empty void.

"Yes," he agreed, but the word tasted bitter upon his lips.

Just then, John knocked upon the closed door. "Your Grace? My wagon is ready. The roads are drying up. I can take you to the house now."

"Thank you, John." Fitz stood and waved for Tabitha to go ahead of him as they exited the bedroom. Mrs. Cress was there waiting to see them off.

"You poor dear," she said to Tabitha. "John will get you home, don't you worry. Do you need any food for the road? I will have your clothing dried before I send it back down to the house."

"No, thank you, Mrs. Cress. You have been wonderfully kind." Tabitha embraced the woman and followed John outside. Fitz lingered a brief moment longer in the house.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cress. I won't forget your kindness. It will be rewarded."

Mrs. Cress smiled, her face soft with a motherly look. "Nonsense. The reward is knowing we were here at the right time to help. We need nothing else, Your Grace. You give us so much by letting John hunt on your land."

"Nonetheless, I won't forget," he promised her. A few deer and pheasants didn't feel like much compared to this woman's kindness.

The Cresses were his tenants, and it was his duty to look after them. Instead, they had looked after him and Tabitha. He would see them repaid for their generosity.

By the time he joined John and Tabitha by the wagon, the farmer had pulled out a large oilcloth and wrapped it around Tabitha's shoulders to shield her from any rain that might come during the drive to Helston Heath.

"The hay is dry, and this will keep you warm," John assured Tabitha, then offered a second oilcloth to Fitz.

"You keep it, John. We're not too far from the house. You will need it if the rain returns."

When the farmer hesitated, Tabitha scooted over in the hay and lifted part of her cloth blanket.

"Yes, please take it, Mr. Cress. His Grace and I can share this one."

"As you wish." The farmer climbed onto his perch on the buckboard wagon, and Fitz crawled through the hay to Tabitha. She held up the cloth on one side, and he wrapped it around his shoulders and pulled her close against him, letting her absorb his warmth as he curled his other arm around her shoulders.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, his voice huskier than he'd intended.

"Y-yes, thank you."

Use me, take my heat, my darling,he silently urged her. And I shall cherish this moment of you beside me for however long I have.

For the first time in his life, he wanted something—or rather, someone—that he couldn't have. Tabitha was not a woman a man could simply walk away from. She was the sort of woman who changed a man forever once he held her in his arms. A smart man would take her to the altar and never look back.

But as she'd reminded him, he couldn't do that. He was a duke, and society had expectations as to who he could marry. Fitz could tell them all to be damned, might even enjoy that, but those same people could make his wife's life a bitter thing if he failed to choose wisely.

These grim thoughts only made him hold Tabitha tighter. It felt like those months long ago when he'd lost his father, how he'd dreamed of seeing him, touching him, only to wake and discover it was naught but a dream. The person who had felt so real that he could touch him, hear his voice, had been only in his mind... and his breaking heart.

He held on to Tabitha now, but when would he wake up and feel her fade away like every other dream?

As the wagon rolled forward, Tabitha tucked her head under his and he settled his chin on the crown of her hair. Neither of them spoke during the ride to the house. He feared that even uttering her name might shatter the dream. The storm had moved off into the distance, leaving behind a light mist that chilled the air. Tabitha shivered in his embrace and he rubbed her arm, trying to give her more of his heat.

As the wagon took the final bend to the front drive of Helston Heath, one of Fitz's grooms rushed down the gravel path toward them.

"Thank God! They're here!" a footman shouted back to someone at the house. He waited for the wagon to stop in front of the door before he offered assistance to Fitz and Tabitha. They both broke apart and made for the edge of the wagon.

Fitz got out first and told the footman to have John brought inside and warmed up by the fire in the kitchens and that he was to be given a warm meal as well as a basket of food to take back with him.

"Don't let him give you any excuse. Tell him I insist on it." Then Fitz turned and grasped Tabitha by the waist and helped her down. "Let's get you inside."

"You still need to have your head looked at," she reminded him.

He touched his forehead and winced. She was right. It wasn't a deep cut, but he'd felt damned dizzy for a while after the accident. He wasn't sure if it was due to a concussion or the blood loss, but it would be good to have the doctor take a look, nonetheless.

Mr. Tracy and Fitz's grandmother hovered in the doorway, waiting for them.

"Good heavens, Fitz, what happened? And what on earth are you wearing?" As his grandmother took in the sight of him, it reminded him that he and Tabitha had left their own clothes at the Cresses' cottage. He would need to have the clothes he wore cleaned and pressed before returning them to the farmer and getting his own back in return.

His grandmother's face was pale. His disappearance had no doubt frightened her. She had lost her husband, her son, and her daughter-in-law. Fitz was all she had left of her family. He couldn't put her through something like that again. He resolved to be more careful with himself in the future.

"I was walking in the hills when I ran into Miss Sherborne, or rather she ran into me. She slipped in the mud and fell down the hill, and I'm afraid she took me along with her. My tenant, John Cress, found us. Could you have a doctor brought round to see to Miss Sherborne's ankle? It took a bit of a turn."

Tabitha spoke up. "And he needs his head examined. I struck him quite hard when I fell."

His grandmother put an arm around Tabitha's shoulders. "Good gracious! Come in and let me call your cousin to you. She's been worried sick wondering where you went. The footmen and grooms have been searching the gardens and the road for the last hour. You're soaked to the bone. We must put you to bed at once." His grandmother's anxiety was clearly showing in her panicked speech.

"Oh, please, I'm fine. Quite fi?—"

"Nonsense, I insist. A warm fire and a bed with a foot warmer. That's what you need."

Tabitha shot Fitz a pleading look, but he found he liked the idea of Tabitha cuddled up and warm in bed even if he could not join her.

"My grandmother is always right. You must do as she says," he replied in his most serious tone. "Tracy, please fetch Mrs. Winslow. Then send for the doctor."

Fitz's butler left and returned shortly with Hannah and Julia. Fitz watched the other two women fuss over Tabitha, who blushed and tried to insist she was fine. It was clear that they deeply cared about Tabitha, no matter how she'd found her way into their lives. That was his only consolation for knowing he could not be the one to care for her. She had friends. Good friends.

"Come now. Let's get you upstairs, Miss Sherborne," his grandmother said.

Tabitha took one step, but he noticed her limp had worsened as she'd climbed the steps into his home a few minutes ago. Not wanting her to injure herself further, he stepped forward and scooped Tabitha up in his arms before she could prevent him from doing so.

Her face turned a bright red. "What are you doing?"

"Yes, Your Grace, what are you doing?" Julia demanded beside them.

"Miss Sherborne injured her ankle. I insist upon taking her upstairs myself so that no further injury occurs." No one could dare argue against him carrying her under such circumstances.

Julia glared suspiciously at him, and he held back a laugh of triumph at finally catching Miss Starling off guard for once.

Thankfully, Tabitha ceased her protests and allowed him to carry her. If he had but a few more chances to hold her, even like this, he didn't want to miss them. He had never believed himself to be a masochist before, but he gladly tortured himself now when it came to this woman.

* * *

Tabitha wantedto bury her face against Fitz's throat, but she resisted. Barely. There were witnesses to this moment, after all, and she couldn't let anyone know how she felt about Fitz—especially not Hannah and Julia. Instead, she tried to think about what she was going to tell her friends once they were alone. They were going to question her, and she needed to figure out what she was going to tell them.

Hannah rushed ahead of them up the stairs to open the bedchamber door while Julia stayed by Fitz's side, her hand on Tabitha's shoulder in silent support.

Hannah pulled back the coverlet on the bed. "You may put her here, Your Grace."

Fitz set her down, and for a brief instant when his back was to Hannah, Tabitha saw only Fitz's face. He was so close to her, and those eyes, so full of storms, made her heart race madly. He nuzzled her cheek as he bent to fluff the pillows behind her back. She leaned in that extra half inch, her lips now touching his...

Oh no...She shouldn't have done it. That bittersweet pang in her chest became unbearable. Why did she crave this man the way she did? Why did he affect her this way? They couldn't be more different, more ill-suited to each other, and yet the sweet agony of her longing to be left alone with him made her ache so deeply that it carved lines upon her soul. Before her friends could see this forbidden moment, he pulled away from her.

"I shall send the doctor once he arrives. Please send for me if there's anything else I can do, Miss Sherborne." Fitz stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him. Julia and Hannah whirled on her the instant he was gone.

"What happened to you?" Julia asked.

"Why is Helston wearing someone else's clothes? Why are you wearing someone else's clothes?" Hannah asked. "What happened to his head?"

"Did you really sprain your ankle?"

"Does anything else hurt? Why did you leave the house alone?"

Tabitha groaned. The throbbing behind her eyes grew worse amid the onslaught of questions. "Please, just let me breathe. It's been a difficult morning."

Both of her friends fell uncharacteristically silent and waited patiently for her to speak.

When she was ready, Tabitha explained what had happened during the walk, the accident, and being taken in by the tenant farmers.

Hannah and Julia exchanged worried glances.

"You're truly all right? Helston wasn't cruel to you, was he?" Hannah asked.

"No, he was quite the opposite. To be fair, he was a little concussed, but he seemed quite deeply concerned for my welfare."

"Oh..." Hannah cleared her throat. "Well, as he should be."

The bedchamber door opened, and Liza slipped inside.

"Oh, thank heavens you're here, Liza. We must get Tabby out of these clothes and put her to bed."

The three women quickly stripped Tabitha out of her borrowed clothes and dressed her in a warm nightgown. Then she was tucked back in and bed warmers were placed under the sheets by her feet. It felt so wonderful to be cared for like this. It reminded her of how cozy she'd felt in the Cresses' little cottage.

I shouldn't grow used to this,she thought. Someday the gem stealing would be over and she would be facing the next step of her life, whatever that may be, and it was that uncertainty of the future that left her feeling weary and anxious. When she'd lived as a pickpocket, she'd had only her concerns of the moment, finding food, shelter, and safety. But now that she'd managed to obtain those, her mind was always focused on thinking forward to the "What then?" questions about her future. She couldn't pretend that she would always have a life like this where she was tucked into bed and cossetted by servants and cared for by a man like Fitz or even her friends like Hannah and Julia.

"Liza, could you please have those clothes I was wearing washed and pressed? They belong to a farmer's wife nearby. I want to make sure they are returned to her."

"Of course, Miss Sherborne."

"Thank you, Liza. You're wonderful." Tabitha yawned, and the maid chuckled her thanks.

It was against every instinct for Tabitha to let her guard down and fall asleep, but she reminded herself she was safe.

"One of the two of us should go after the diamond tonight," Julia murmured to Hannah. "It is the perfect opportunity. Helston will likely be resting. No one will expect it."

Their words forced Tabitha to fight sleep, and she sat up enough to speak.

"No, let me do it," she insisted. "It must be me." Then she burrowed into her pillow and closed her eyes. She had to be the one to take the diamond. If she didn't do it, she might risk telling him the truth about who she really was and why she was here. Stealing from him, as terrible as it was, would keep her heart guarded against him just enough to keep her safe.

It must be me.

* * *

Evan joinedFitz in the billiard room that evening after dinner. "I heard you had quite the day," he mused.

"I suppose I have." Fitz resisted the urge to touch the cut on his brow. A doctor had been summoned, and the man had assured him that the cut would heal quickly and that no major harm seemed to have been done to his head. Ever since he and Tabitha had returned to the house, he'd been battling a headache, which he suspected had been in part caused by the curiosity of his guests about the accident. For a duke and an unmarried woman to have been together in an accident and return to the house wearing clothing that wasn't theirs was quite the fodder for gossip. It was only his sterling reputation with unmarried ladies that kept Fitz from being compelled to offer Tabitha marriage. Every man in this room tonight knew he would never take advantage of a woman like that. Stealing that kiss from her in the drawing room and again in the hothouse... that had been so completely out of character for him that no one here would ever have suspected him capable of it. The gentlemen guests had been teasing him mercilessly about Tabitha and being lucky enough to be injured by such a beautiful young woman.

"Beck thought perhaps you got carried away with passion," Evan said.

"You think I would bed a woman in the middle of a rainstorm in some field?" Fitz snorted. "I like to seduce women in far more comfortable places than that, and I certainly wouldn't have injured myself."

At this, Evan grinned wickedly. "If you're not making love in a way that sometimes risks injury, you might be going about it all wrong, old boy."

Beck, who stood opposite them as he bent to line up a shot on the baize-covered billiard table, smirked.

"Evan's not wrong, Fitz," Beck chuckled. "The best nights I've had with women have been on the wilder side."

Fitz ignored their teasing. "She didn't come down to dinner. What if she's taken ill?" he asked them. "She was cold and wet long enough to give anyone a chill."

The doctor had said Tabitha's ankle was a little swollen, but it didn't seem to pain her much. She was clearly a strong creature, but that didn't mean she couldn't catch a chill from being in wet clothes too long.

"Whatever you do, old boy, do not, I repeat, do not go and check on her. That is a perfectly laid parson's mousetrap," Evan warned.

"Stay here and play with us." Beck offered him a cue. "It's been more than a year since we all played billiards together, hasn't it?"

Fitz accepted the cue and curled his fingers around the wooden pole. It had been too long since he'd enjoyed an evening with his friends like this.

"Which of us is on duty tonight?" Evan whispered as Beck came around the table to join them.

"Me again," Fitz said. "You both need to focus your efforts on watching our gentlemen guests."

"Are you sure? Shouldn't you rest after knocking that hard head of yours?" Evan asked.

"If I feel I need to switch with someone, I'll have a servant wake one of you."

"Very well, but be careful, Fitz," Beck said. "If the thief is here, they have only another day or two to make their attempt."

"If they do," Fitz said as he bent and aimed at the cue ball in front of him, "we'll be ready." He snapped his cue stick forward, striking the cue ball, which cracked against a cluster of balls that burst across the table in perfect, chaotic beauty.