Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

“ T yburn, wake up!” someone snarled. “We’ve been robbed!”

Rafe shot up from his bed, a pistol held ready in his grip. He always kept one under his pillow, lest he was set upon in his sleep. It took him a moment to comprehend the words that had woken him, and to realize that the bed he lay in was empty, save for himself. The bewitching beauty he’d bedded was nowhere to be seen. Where had his fire drake gone? He had to find her.

He surged out of the bed, tangling his legs in the sheets and nearly tripping.

“What the devil?” Rafe struggled to free himself of his bedclothes and bolted for the door, gun raised, but a man blocked his way out of the bedchamber and politely reminded him he was stark naked. It was William Amberly, known as Oxford when they were out robbing coaches.

“Put on some clothes, would you?”

Heart pounding against his ribs, Rafe slowly lowered the pistol.

“What’s happened? Where’s the woman?” Rafe dragged his hand through his hair as he shook off the vivid dreams he’d been having about the woman he met last night when they had stopped that coach. He didn’t even know her name...

Dear God, had that been a dream? Or had he really taken that dark-haired beauty back to his hideout and seduced her? He glanced around the bedchamber, seeking any sign of her clothing strewn about on the floor.

Perhaps she was in the outer chamber, waiting for him?

“You don’t seem to understand,” said William. “That chit you abducted last night is gone... along with almost all the money we’ve seized from the coaches. She bloody robbed us! And take off that mask. She’s gone.” Will stomped into the main sitting room of their hideout with a growl.

“What? When did she leave?” he called after Will. Then he realized something was tied around his right wrist. A necklace with a beautiful freshwater pearl.

She’d left her mother’s necklace for him?

His chest tightened with a sudden warmth, but that warmth froze over when he heard Will’s reply, reminding him of their dire situation.

“How should I bloody know? I tracked her a quarter of a mile before I lost the trail. She’s been gone for at least an hour,” Will snapped. “There’s no trace of her.”

Rafe walked back to his bed and collapsed on it, tossing the pistol onto the bed linens. Then, with shaking hands, he removed the mask from his face. Had she dared to look at him last night as he slept? Did she know what he looked like now? No. If she had, she wouldn’t have taken the time to put the mask back on him, and beyond that he felt a strange sense of trust given that she’d left the only thing of her mother’s with him. That meant something existed between them, didn’t it? Something that neither of them could deny had been born last night between them, but now it was over, she’d vanished just like the morning mist.

He could hear Will tearing through the lodge, making a racket as he muttered curses loud enough to carry all the way to Rafe’s chamber. It reminded him of the very real problem that should be at the forefront of his concerns at the moment.

The feisty little creature had robbed him... That damned wench! He scowled, fresh rage burning within him. But the rage soon began to fade against the utter hilarity of the situation. His intended victim had turned the tables and robbed him instead. He supposed there was a level of ironic justice to it all, but damnation, he and his friends had fought for every bit they’d saved up these last few months.

The real problem was, as far as he was concerned, this wasn’t his money. It was meant for another. The first time he hadn’t been acting for selfish reasons, and some chit had just come along and stolen all his hard work away.

The sweet scent of the woman, mingled with last night’s storm, still lingered in the air, which only muddled his conflicting emotions. He wanted to be furious with her, but he had to admit he was also impressed, and he wanted to tell her that... after he’d kissed her senseless.

Last night had been both a mistake and a gift. He smiled as he realized this was typical for him. His life was always vastly complicated. He’d wanted just one night of pleasure and connection with a woman, one moment where he could ease the loneliness that grew deeper and deeper in his soul, and it had backfired spectacularly.

Rafe had but one bright spot in the darkness and that was a little Scottish orphan, Isla, whom he had taken as his ward. She’d started to call him Papa, and damned if that didn’t make him feel like some foolish knight protecting a young princess from the dragons of the world. He would do anything for that child. And he would start by tracking down his mystery woman and retrieving his money. Emboldened by fresh resolve, Rafe jerked his clothes on, blood pumping hard through his body.

He met his companions in the main room, who waited for him to explain himself. He hated admitting to when he’d made a mess of things, but he never avoided making such admissions. He studied the faces of his friends carefully.

Will Amberley was the darkest-haired of their trio, and his amber eyes currently blazed with frustration. In contrast, Rafe’s other friend, Caspian, Viscount Falworth, sat patiently, waiting for an explanation and a plan for what to do next. Where Will was dark, Caspian was fair, with golden hair and sky-blue eyes. The two often played the roles of devil and angel when it came to Rafe’s decisions. Will was always ready to leap into danger, whereas Caspian would always weigh the odds first.

He’d known both men since they’d been at Eton, and when they’d decided upon this life, they’d also chosen nicknames for themselves. Rafe had selected Tyburn, Will had claimed Oxford, and Caspian had chosen Cambridge. He trusted them with his life, and they had always trusted him with theirs. Now he’d put them all in danger.

“Exactly how much of our stash is gone? You said almost all?” Rafe joined his friends near the four chests they had nearly completely filled with loot. The chests were more than half empty now. The bottoms still glinted with coins and some jewelry, but the banknotes, the money that held the highest value for them, were gone.

Will growled as he kicked one of the chests. “We had more than two thousand pounds here to split between the three of us. Now we have just a handful of coins and a few bloody necklaces.”

A pit formed in Rafe’s gut as the reality of how much they’d lost hit him. All that they’d worked toward had disappeared, and all because he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of a pretty woman’s sorrowful eyes. He was a fool.

“Six months of work for nothing.” Caspian sighed and crossed his arms as he met and held Rafe’s gaze.

“Was she worth it?” Will asked bluntly. “Because she had better be for what we’ve lost.”

Rafe wasn’t accustomed to guilt or shame. Over the years, he’d developed a distant relationship with those less amusing emotions, but at that moment he was plunging beneath the surface of both and it felt like he was drowning. He had made a terrible mistake in bringing that woman here, and he didn’t even know her name or where she lived.

But the memory of her lips on his, her little gasp as he had sunk into her body that first time, her look of fear turning into one of trust as he had made love to her... that was imprinted on his soul. Of all the women he had seduced over the years, this one, an untried virgin with the fire of a lovely dragon in her soul, she alone had tempted him to be reckless with his life and the lives of his friends. He couldn’t regret what he’d done, but he did regret the consequences and his own lack of foresight. All three of them had needed the money they’d been saving to pull their lives out of the spiral they were in.

“Yes, she was worth it,” Rafe admitted. “You two shall split what is left. I think it best that we abandon this lodge for a few months. We can move to the cottage in the south.”

“I agree,” Amberley said. “She had to have ridden off before dawn, because I was in the stables at daybreak and that’s when I realized we were missing a horse. One of yours, Rafe.” He checked his pocket watch. “She has at least an hour head start. She could already have a search party headed this way. It isn’t safe to stay here.”

But Rafe wondered if the pretty little thief would go to the authorities. Surely she wouldn’t be so foolish, given that she’d just stolen already stolen money, but he couldn’t take the chance of guessing what she would do. Clearly, the little fire drake he’d seduced was not predictable in the slightest. He wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking he could control her or guess her plans a second time.

Caspian agreed with Will. “We should take a few weeks off and see what the local authorities do.”

Will would ride to the north and return to his crumbling estate, Amberley Hall, and Caspian would return to his bachelor’s residence in London. Rafe would remain in this region and send them a summons once he believed it was safe to begin their activities again. They had a coded language they used in correspondence whenever the law was homing in on them, as it was now.

The three of them packed their travel bags and made sure nothing of a personal nature was left in the abandoned lodge. Will and Caspian rode off, along with their spare horses, in different directions. Rafe had only his white mare, Nimbus. He took a road that edged around several farms and a small village before he let Nimbus step back out onto a proper road. For several hours, he did his best to try to track the woman and the horse she’d stolen from him, but he couldn’t find any trace of where she’d gone. Finally, as the afternoon gave way to dusk, he knew he needed to let his horse rest. So he headed for his brother’s estate.

It was probably time for him to rest too, Rafe reflected. He had been gone for three weeks already and was missing Isla terribly. The little girl had unlocked the rusty door to his heart and pushed her way in. The child was absolutely beautiful, with russet hair and big blue eyes. He could hardly believe she would be seven soon. What he loved most about her was the strength and depth of her ability to love. Her mother and father had perished from illness in Edinburgh. Rafe’s brother-in-law Brodie Kincade and his wife, Lydia, had rescued the girl from grave robbers, who were notorious for killing easily forgotten people when no fresh cadavers could be found and sold for autopsies.

From the instant Isla had come into Rafe’s life, the child had gravitated toward him, the unmarried scoundrel who had no idea how to care for himself properly, let alone a small girl. But when she’d first held out her tiny arms, he’d lifted her up and something in him that had been out of place for as long as he could remember slid back into place.

This new state of accidental fatherhood had put restraints on him that hadn’t been easy to adjust to. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want financial assistance from his elder brother, Ashton, yet he needed money now more than ever. Not for himself, but for Isla. He’d hired a nanny last month now that Sabrina Talleyrand, the young woman who had been Isla’s temporary governess, had gotten married. The child was in constant need of new clothes, books, toys, and all manner of things that children required. It was not the best time for Rafe to grow a conscience... of sorts. He would rather take money from strangers than his elder brother. He’d spent too many years begging Ashton for funds, but damned if he’d do that now. He had to support Isla on his own. He owed that to her as her father.

He adjusted his hold on the reins as memories of the past crept up on him. It was one of the reasons he despised being alone. When he had naught but his own thoughts to keep him company, that was when the past began to whisper dark things in his ear. The memories that surfaced burned his chest like the very devil himself had thrust a fiery spear into him.

The day his father had died in his arms, Rafe had gone from a boy who’d had a golden future at his fingertips to a life without sunlight. His mother had never been the same, losing the man she’d loved since she’d been a young woman. His eldest sibling, Thomasina, just seventeen at the time, had turned into a second mother to Rafe and Joanna. Little Joanna had cried for months and had been so frail for nearly a year because she had refused to eat. She’d only been three, and while she understood death by its definition, she had not understood what it meant in truth. She’d kept expecting their father to come home.

Everything had changed between Rafe and Ashton after the accident, as he’d blamed Rafe for their father’s death. Rafe’s wonderful elder brother, the young man he’d looked up to all of his life, had only been fifteen at the time. It was Ashton who had been forced to shoulder their father’s debts. He’d had to cut costs, reduce their staff, and close their country estate for two full years, all the while working to earn enough to reopen it. Being burdened by their father’s debts had made Ashton coldhearted, but he’d saved the family. They’d even been able to afford a decent debut for Thomasina the following year. But Rafe had lost his brother and his own soul in the process.

In time, the family had climbed out of the looming threat of debtors’ prison and back into society’s good graces. Thomasina had made a brilliant match, Joanna was happily married now to a wild Scottish lord, and Ashton had married that man’s sister. His siblings clearly had a love for Scots.

Even I fell in love with a Scot . Rafe chuckled as he realized he had the same fascination, given that little Isla was Scottish.

But despite his siblings’ happy marriages, there was still tension in the family, and Rafe was the cause of it. Though Ashton had become more cordial over the last year, he hadn’t completely escaped his brother’s judgments or censure. And Joanna, who had always loved Rafe, still did not trust him the way she did Ash, despite the fact that he’d taught her how to fight and had supported her when she’d run off to Gretna Green with her future husband.

And then there was their mother. She could not look at him without the past shadowing her eyes. She was the hardest one of his family to face, so he avoided her whenever possible.

“Rafe, what have you done?” Those words had held pain, fear, and fury as she’d collapsed in his arms that night so long ago.

He could only reply, “I killed Father...” Because he had. Had he not left the coach that his father had put him in to go home, he wouldn’t have been injured and his father wouldn’t have crossed the street to rescue him and been trampled to death. Whenever his mother looked at him, she saw her husband’s death, not the son she’d once loved.

A painful lump formed in his throat, and he tried to swallow. Rafe pulled his horse to a stop and glanced back down the long, winding road he had come from. A shiver flitted beneath his skin as that grim question he so often faced rose once again in his mind.

What if I turned back? Simply rode away and never came home? Would anyone care ?

Isla’s face flashed across his vision, and he could hear the echo of her giggles.

“Papa! Come play with me!” she would cry as she sprinted about the lush lawns of their family home. Rafe would give chase until they were both laughing as they fell into the grass and lay there side by side just staring up at the clouds.

His daughter needed him. He could never leave his darling girl, not even when this bleak despair threatened to drown him. Rafe urged his horse forward once more and he pushed the shadowy thoughts away, focusing instead on how happy he would feel when he got home, lifted Isla into the air, and spun her around.

It was close to twilight as he rode into view of the Lennox estate. The large Palladian-style home gleamed in the glow of the setting sun. The emerald of the trees was richly illuminated, and the pale golden stones looked warm and inviting on an evening like this.

Home . Of course, it really belonged to Ashton now. As the eldest brother, everything belonged to Ashton. As the second son, Rafe was entitled to nothing.

He came down the long path to the grand house, where merry lights winked in several of the windows. Everyone would be ready to have dinner soon, including his little mite. He met one of the Lennox grooms at the stables and handed Nimbus off to him. He collected his saddlebags and handed them to Sam, a footman who’d spotted him as he’d arrived and followed him to the stables.

“Thank you, Sam. Is everyone preparing for dinner?”

“Yes, sir, it will be served in about an hour.” The young man shouldered the two bags without effort.

“Excellent. Could you please have a bath drawn for me?”

“Of course, sir.” The footman rushed back toward the house ahead of him.

Rafe’s muscles were damned sore from the past several days of chasing down coaches. Most people who were robbed gave over their jewels and money quietly, but every so often there was one man who tried to be a bloody hero. Rafe was usually the one to put a stop to the foolish heroics with a single punch, but every now and then he’d had to tussle until a coach passenger playing the hero was subdued.

By the time Rafe reached the house he was ready for a bath, a meal, and bed, but he knew he would not get to bed as early as he wished.

The butler, Mr. Cheaves, greeted him at the door. “It’s good to see you’ve returned, Mr. Lennox. You’ve been sorely missed.”

“Have I?” He chuckled as he glanced around the empty entryway. He hadn’t expected a welcome party, but it would have been nice to see one person glad to see him. Sometimes he thought Cheaves just tried to be polite because he was still a Lennox.

Cheaves smiled back. “Oh yes, Miss Isla has been staring out the windows waiting for you to come home every day, sir. You chose to come back the one day she wasn’t allowed to. His lordship has been keeping her busy today.”

“Oh?” He couldn’t deny the warmth that blossomed in his chest at the thought of at least one person missing him.

“Of course, she adores you, sir. She said?—”

A booming voice cut off the butler. “Rafe!”

Rafe winced at the sound of his elder brother’s bellow.

Ashton appeared at the top of the stairs, his fierce blond-haired Viking appearance somewhat softened by the young girl he carried in his arms. Rafe’s girl. Once upon a time, it had been said that he and Ashton looked like two sides of the same coin, both tall and fair-haired with bright-blue eyes. Ashton had let his hair grow longer, and Rafe had kept his trimmed shorter per the style of the day. It was strange to think that Ash looked more like a barbarian warrior and Rafe the polished gentleman, given who the true pillager of the family was.

“Good evening, brother.” Rafe managed to grin at Ashton as he came down the stairs.

Isla stared at him, her eyes wide as she blinked away tears on her rosy cheeks. Had his wee mite been crying?

“Let me take her.” Rafe held out his arms, his body aching to have the comfort of her light weight in his hold.

Ashton passed her over, but his fierce blue eyes shot an accusation at him.

“Three weeks is far too long,” Ashton said. “Rosalind and I’ve had to take turns sleeping in her chamber nearly every night. She cried whenever she woke up from bad dreams and you were not there to comfort her.” His brother’s tone was gruff, but quiet, so as not to worry the girl. “I hope you have settled whatever business you had in London and can now stay here for a time.”

“For now,” Rafe assured him, but the lie was bitter upon his lips.

Ashton could never learn that he was still robbing coaches. He would be furious to know Rafe was risking not only his life but his family’s reputation, and an angry Ashton was not something anyone wanted to face. The man could throw a punch strong enough to fell an elephant.

“Perhaps we should speak about it?” Ashton offered.

“Could we discuss it later? I am weary and want to spend time with my little Scot.” He gave Isla a playful sway in his arms, and she squirmed with a little giggle. “And speaking of Scots, where’s your hellion?”

The stony expression on his brother’s face softened to one of a lovestruck fool. “She’s dressing for dinner. We had a long afternoon together in the gardens.”

“Did you, now?” Rafe teased. He knew just what his brother and his sister-in-law would have been up to in the gardens, assuming they were left alone.

Ashton’s wife, Rosalind, was a dark-haired beauty who enjoyed the world of business as much as his brother did. The two made a fierce yet perfect pair. Rafe couldn’t deny the pang of envy he felt. To have someone he trusted like that, a woman who rivaled him in cunning and matched him in sensuality... He desperately wanted what they had. But a lady who was a man’s perfect match was as hard to find as a shooting star across the night sky. One could wait a lifetime and never see that flash of brilliant starlight.

He blew out a soft breath as memories of last night filled his head. Now that woman had been a comet, bright and bold, moving across the heavens far out of his reach. But he’d reached for her, and for a moment, he’d almost touched heaven itself.

“We shall talk later this evening,” Ashton said, and placed a hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “See to Isla and change for dinner.”

Rafe carried his daughter upstairs to her nursery, where the plump nanny, Mrs. Chesterfield, sat in a rocking chair, darning a small white pinafore with a tear in it. Isla must have been climbing trees in the garden again. The nanny’s white ruffled cap covered her silver hair, but she had a quick mind and seemed to need very little sleep, which, when it came to watching a busy little child, was an invaluable trait.

“Mr. Lennox!” The nanny rose with a smile and set aside her darning. “Isla has missed you.” She looked lovingly at her small charge, and Rafe felt that bittersweet ache in his chest once more.

If only he could give Isla a mother, so that when he was away she had another parent to love her. Her previous governess, Sabrina Talleyrand, had been the closest Isla had to a mother, but she had married another. Rafe had approved of the match, of course, but when he had seen Sabrina walk down the aisle, he realized he could have married her, that he could have been glad for a female companion, a permanent one. They would have been happy enough together, and perhaps one day that easy affection could have grown into love. But her heart had belonged to another, and he could not stand in the way of that.

If only his little fire drake had stayed through the morning. He had planned on waking her up in a most satisfying way. Then he would have gotten her to tell him her name and he would have escorted her home. But he knew logically that because she’d taken his money, she wouldn’t have wanted him to know her name or where he could find her for that very reason.

If he was being honest, part of him had hoped to learn that she was with child, that there was some tie between them that would keep her in his life. But he had no name, no idea where she’d gone... and no way to learn if their union bore fruit. Had they both chosen another path, Isla could have had a sibling. The thought turned his hard heart into a soft mess. He could feel the hidden pearl necklace still wrapped around his wrist, a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

God’s teeth, I suppose my rakehell days are coming to an end, he mused as he sat down on Isla’s bed. He was taken up more and more with the thought of love and wanting it for himself and Isla. But to find a love that matched what his siblings had, a love that made one’s lifetime seem to stretch into an infinite summer... that seemed an impossible dream. Lightning had struck three times for the Lennox children. What were the odds of a fourth? Yet he’d been close to grasping that dream last night, he was sure of it. What a damned fool he was.

He glanced at the bed he’d bought for Isla. It was made of white poplar and was intricately carved with fairies and flowers on the headboard. The first few nights he’d put her to bed at the Lennox home he had shown her the fairies and had her trace the carved shapes with her tiny little fingers. He’d whispered tales of the fae folk until the little hand curled around his at last loosened as she’d fallen asleep. It had become a ritual for them, to share tales of magic and beauty before bed. Isla had known such loss in her short life and still carried so many fears. It was his duty to care for her and show her that life could be beautiful and safe. That she was loved and cared for and would never be left alone again.

“Will you dress her for dinner, Mrs. Chesterfield?” he asked. It was quite unusual to have children at dinner, but Rosalind and Ashton enjoyed having Isla dine with them, and Rafe was glad. He liked the sprite’s company immensely and missed her whenever she wasn’t able to dine with them when Ashton and Rosalind had guests.

“Of course, sir.” The nanny bustled to the dresser that held most of Isla’s clothing. Rafe’s stolen money had bought those gowns, but someday soon he would find a way to earn money without stealing. He would speak to Ash tonight. It was time he swallowed his pride. He would not ask for a loan, but he would seek his brother’s counsel about investing. Once he’d collected enough, he could invest it smartly. He settled Isla firmly on his lap and lifted her chin with gentle fingers.

“Papa?” she breathed.

“Yes, kitten?”

“I thought you might not come back.” She shut her eyes and buried her face once more against his chest.

“Nonsense, I would never leave you in the dastardly clutches of Uncle Ash,” he teased.

She giggled, but her face turned solemn again. “But my first Papa and Mama, they did.”

Rafe shot a glance at the pair of small painted portraits of Isla’s birth parents on the side table by the bed. He didn’t always have them out on display, but when he left Isla for any length of time, he made sure her parents were watching over her. The portraits had been among the possessions they’d collected from the room where Isla’s mother had been staying. Her father had dark hair with kind, serious eyes. Her mother had a gentle face with a hint of mischief in her eyes. He mourned their loss as much as Isla did, even though they were strangers to him. They had been the ones to bring this child into the world, and he would never stop thanking them for the gift that he’d been given, though it had come at the cost of their lives.

He took a moment to find the right words.

“You understand that they didn’t want to leave you, don’t you? And I will do everything in my power to always come back to you.” He kissed Isla’s russet-colored curls and held her just a little bit tighter. Ash was right, three weeks had been far too long to be away.

Isla let out a sigh that threatened to fracture his heart. How could she sound so world-weary at such a tender age? His poor child was destined to carry the soul of a woman a century old, not a wee mite in the bloom of life’s youth.

“Go let Nanny dress you for dinner, and then you and I shall sit together at the table. I will read you a story tonight before bed. And if we are very sneaky, we might steal some apple tarts from Mrs. Gibbs down in the kitchen.” He kissed her forehead again and set her down on her feet.

“Now I must go bathe, kitten. Uncle Ash will be displeased if I show up at dinner smelling like horses.”

Isla brightened as she gazed up at him. “You do smell like horses,” she agreed. “But I like the smell.”

He chuckled as he surrendered her to her nanny and left the nursery.

His chambers were two rooms away, and he was glad to be home. The hunting lodge was comfortable enough, but he missed the comforts of hot baths and softer beds than the hay-filled mattresses of the hideout. He carefully removed the pearl necklace from his wrist and set it into a silver jewelry box on the mantel above the fireplace.

A copper tub in his dressing room was already full of steaming water, so he stripped out of his clothes and eased into the bath. Lord, he was getting too bloody old to go gallivanting around the countryside for weeks at a time. He’d been so close to leaving thieving behind, until that dark-haired vixen robbed him. He was still furious for being played a fool by the woman, but he had taken her virginity. She had taken the money he’d intended to invest with Ashton. Perhaps that was a fair price to pay—his future for the gift of her trust.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the bath and smiled. Despite it all, he could not stay mad at her. However, he imagined all the ways he would torture her with pleasure when he found her again, how he’d make her regret stealing from him by tying her to his bed and teasing her until she begged to be taken and taken again. For every banknote she’d stolen, she’d pay in kisses; for his horse, she’d pay by riding him until she came so hard she lost her voice.

He might be willing to sell his very soul to steal one more night with that lovely little thief—his fire-breathing dragon, his luminescent pearl, his shooting star streaking across the night sky.