11. Chapter 11

Darkness was quickly descending and the moon was already casting silvery shards through the treetops. Slivers of light that then reflected off Callum's damp white lawn shirt next to her on the trail.

He carried his coat and waistcoat in his arm, his trousers still soaked and molded to his frame. Which showed off his tree trunks of legs and she had to admit she rather liked the current tightness of his trousers, how the fabric wrapped around his cock—a bulge she kept stealing glances at.

What they'd just done in the grotto had a mind of its own. Not that she'd wanted to stop it.

Moreover, she wanted to repeat it. And take it further. For if his shaft felt like that in her hand, pressed against her folds…

She had to swallow hard at the thought, ignoring the tingling along the crux of her that was driving her mind into things she knew she should avoid. For the reality was, Callum wasn't just a dalliance. He was with her for a reason—to protect her—and he was Charley's friend along with Thomas's hired brute force.

So many ways this could go wrong.

She was far from a virgin at this point. But she'd been fairly particular about the three men she'd had in bed. Clean. No attachments. Plenty of wealth, if not status, so she hadn't needed to worry about a money-grub trying to trap her.

They had been quick affairs where both parties had scratched an itch and then ways were parted with friendships intact.

She glanced at Callum, dread spreading in her chest.

So, so, so many ways this could go wrong.

At the moment, Callum looked disconcerted. His stare set straight ahead on the trail, his jaw rigid.

Like what they just did was a mistake. A mistake he didn't intend to ever make again.

Which would be a bloody shame.

She leaned into him with her shoulder as she hopped over a tree root bulging into the trail. "Seriously, Callum, do you mind that I took advantage of you?"

He barked out a laugh and looked down at her, a smile on his face. "You were taking advantage of me?"

Her shoulders lifted with a grin. "It kind of seemed that way to me."

He stopped in the middle of the trail.

It took her two more steps before she halted and turned around to him.

He moved to her, closing in on her space as he grabbed her shoulders and leaned over her.

His lips close to hers. Very close. "If you took advantage of me, then I sure as hell took advantage of you."

She let out a soundless chuckle. "You did nothing of the kind. Have you not learned that I am quite famous, at least in my own mind, for doing what I want? I wanted you in the grotto. I wanted more of you than I got, frankly."

His nostrils flared.

"Yes. More of you. All of you." Her hand slipped up along his neck. "But not if this is about to get messy. Not if you are going to browbeat yourself over a choice you don't think I made. Don't misread where I was back there in the water. I wanted you and I have no expectations of you past this moment in time. We can both walk away whenever we need to."

His grip on her tightened as his lips descended onto hers. Raw and hungry he attacked, and she knew in that instant he wanted her just the same.

Her body leaned into his, falling into the kiss wholeheartedly.

Foolish, as he made no promises to walk away. Quite the contrary with the heat of his kiss. But he'd already told her his time here was short-lived. Honest from the start.

Though he could just be one of those men with morals so thick that he would never admit to himself he was about to have a tawdry affair with a spinster, even if that was exactly where this was headed.

He pulled up, his steely eyes devouring her for a long moment before he straightened, looking over her head. "We should get back before we are searched for."

She nodded, spinning around, and they crossed the road and started on the last stretch of the trail to the manor in silence.

"I was scared, you should know."

He looked down at her with concern etched into his brow. "Scared when? Why?"

"I was scared when those men stole me from the gardens and tossed me into that wagon. So scared I could barely breathe, could barely move. My body just…froze. I didn't even try to fight them off."

He slipped an arm along her shoulders, pulling her into his warmth. "Understandable."

"But I don't think you can understand. You are here because Thomas believes you to be a man of action. I am not a woman of action. And I think you look down upon that."

He paused for a long moment. Considering his words. Considering them for so long she didn't think she could trust anything coming out of his mouth.

He glanced down at her. "I have been around a lot of women of action in my day. And yes, I do respect the hell out of them. But if you think that because you froze after having been abducted that you are weak, then you are sorely mistaken."

"You are rationalizing my weakness."

"Am I? A bag was tossed over your head, Nemity. You were grabbed—none too gently, I imagine, and they bound your hands, and then you were tossed into a wagon. How often does that happen to you?"

She glanced up at him sharply. "That was the first time."

"Exactly." He didn't say anything for a few steps, then sighed. "I shouldn't even tell you this for what you'll think of me, but the first time a knife was pulled on me—I froze."

"You did?"

"Yes. And I would have been gutted if a friend hadn't barreled into the man and crushed him to the ground. Someone had my back that day, and that was the most important thing. You had Mr. Youngstrom covering your back when you were abducted—late to the party though he was."

"And look what that got him."

"He did what was right—you've surrounded yourself with loyalty, so don't put his injury onto yourself—I have seen how Mr. Youngstrom wears his broken arm like a hard-won badge." His hand on her shoulder squeezed her. "But now that he has a broken arm, you need someone else to have your back—at least until the men that attacked you are found. You need to let me have your back, Nemity."

She looked up at him. "We've returned to that, then?"

"Yes, we have. I'm here to protect you, so let me protect you. I am not a shroud of drudgery meant to spoil your days. I think I just proved that back in the grotto. That I can watch over the front side of you, just as well as the back."

She blinked, staring at him for a long moment.

He couldn't have possibly said those words with a straight face.

But he did.

She burst out laughing, leaning into him with her hand on his chest. His arm curled right along with her, holding her into his chest for a long moment as they walked.

Her laughter easing, she pulled away to walk next to his side once more, looking up at him. "You have some surprises of your own, don't you, Cal?"

"It seems you've underestimated me from the start."

"Maybe I did do that." She nodded. "But I also apologized for it."

"You did."

They stepped past the edge of the woods and he dropped his hold on her, veering a step away as he walked alongside of her so that there was ample space between them. "I imagine you don't want staff to know of this."

"It would be easier if that were the case." Her brows lifted. "Do you take offense at that? I don't mean it as a reflection on your person. It is just easier…"

"No. Walk away. No attachments. That is what you wanted, yes?"

She nodded.

"Then that is what I will give you."

They hadn't made it fully across the great lawn that lined the east side of the estate when the side door to the manor opened and Mrs. Jorge came running from the house toward them, her creaky legs working hard but not making much distance.

That couldn't mean anything good.

Nemity's feet sped until she was in a full run to reach Mrs. Jorge.

"What? What is it?"

Out of breath, Mrs. Jorge held up the sealed letter in her hand. "This, child—this came an hour ago by special messenger with the express request it get to you with no delay. It is an emergency, he said."

Her heart dropped into her gut and she grabbed the letter from Mrs. Jorge, tearing through the wax seal and tilting the paper toward the torches that were lit along the gravel pathway to the side door.

She read it. Read it again.

Didn't even realize she was shaking until Callum's hands grabbed onto her shoulders and she felt herself knocking against his steady hold.

"What is it, Nemity?"

Breathless words crept from her mouth. "It's Susannah. She's, she's…"

Mrs. Jorge gasped, her hands going to her face. "What?"

"She's dying. Says she's dying. It's not even her handwriting."

"Where is she?" Mrs. Jorge asked.

"L-London."

A choked sob came from Mrs. Jorge and she spun toward the house as she whispered, "I'll go pack your things."

Callum rounded to the front of Nemity, but made sure to keep his grip on her shoulders. Without his hold, she surely would have crumpled to the ground.

"Who is Susannah?"

"She is…she is one of my dearest friends. My oldest friend."

She started to sway, black dots filling her eyes.

Her head dropped forward, her eyes closing.

No. No time for that. She had to stay steady.

Steady and get to London.

Posthaste.

Her look whipped up to Callum. "I have to leave. Tonight. Now. Can you please rouse Mr. Youngstrom? Have him saddle me a horse. I can take the route until I can match up with the timing of a mail coach."

"A mail coach?"

"Yes—anything to get to London with the utmost urgency. It will be the fastest. Even if I rode a horse at top speed, I'd fall off dead tired before I got to London. The mail coach will get me there in days."

He nodded. "Then I'm coming with you."

She didn't argue, didn't refuse.

That he offered shook her down to her bones in relief.

For she knew she was safe with him.

Knew he would get her to London, come hell or high water.

He was just that stubborn.