CHAPTER 19

ENSCONCED WITHIN A hackney he had hired, Gabriel watched as Hannah descended from her coach aided by a footman at ten in the morning the next day. She then turned and spoke to the coachman, who rode off after watching her enter a modiste establishment on Oxford Street.

He waited a couple of minutes and descended from the hackney. Giving the driver instructions to wait, he approached the door of the establishment Hannah had entered. She came out at once, but no smile of greeting lit her face. Adjusting the hat veil over her face and looking every which way, like a hounded hare, she whispered without looking at him.

"Where's your coach?"

Wordlessly, he pointed to the carriage, and she marched towards it. His long steps kept pace with her shorter, hurried ones, and he opened the door for her to enter. With one last nervous look around, she got into the hackney. He took the seat beside hers and waited for her to settle.

Once inside the relative privacy of the vehicle, she seemed to relax slightly. The carriage took off, weaving through the morning traffic, and she at last lifted her veil. The impact of her anxious gaze was like a punch to his stomach. He had been so looking forward to this outing. All of yesterday he had spent wishing morning would arrive. Waiting for the moment when he would see her again. But something was wrong. Something troubled her, and it was more than her usual unease with this bargain.

"Is everything all right?" he queried, unable to wait a moment longer.

"I... yes. Maybe. I don't know."

He took her hand, noting the iciness of it even through her leather gloves. With a look in her direction, he undid the two buttons that secured the glove at her wrist and peeled off the leather. Then he repeated his actions with the other hand until he could envelop her chilled hands in his warmer ones.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"My husband's nephew, Mr. Blackwell, came to visit me yesterday. He was waiting in the house when I came back from the ride."

His jaw clenched, but he struggled to keep his expression neutral. "What did he want?" he bit out, although he suspected the tone of the conversation to have upset her so.

"He offered to escort me about. When I refused, he made insinuations that soon dissolved into thinly veiled threats. He mentioned Harold was about to die and that he would be the duke soon."

"The arse. I'll deal with him—"

"No!" Her vehement protest cut him up short. "Don't you see? If you say something, he will suspect there's something between us. We can't let him catch even the slightest hint of impropriety."

"I can't allow him to harass you," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

"But confronting him will make everything worse. Please. Don't do anything rash. We must be extra careful now."

"Do not distress yourself so, Hannah. We will be careful. You have my word that I will not allow him to harm you in any way."

She raised her wounded gaze to his. "I have no doubt that you will protect me from physical harm. But you may be unable to protect me from intrigue and innuendo...or something worse."

The fears and shadows in her eyes were fuel on the burning rage born of impotence on his chest. With everything in him, he wanted to protect her. Vanquish her enemies. But she was right. Any movement on his part would have the opposite effect. Oh, how he hated this situation. How it galled him not to have the moral ground to defend his woman.

His woman? He was thinking of her in those terms?

Taking a deep breath to calm his racing thoughts and imbue his voice with soothing tones, he asked, "What is your worst fear? It can't be mere suspicion on his part or the threat of discovery that has you in this estate."

His eyes fixed on the delicate ripple of her throat as she swallowed before responding.

"I fear he will contest the legitimacy of my child if I were to conceive. I fear he will drag me to court and cause the biggest scandal in the whole British Empire. You should have seen him when he said he was the rightful heir, and no one would deny him what was his. He was...malevolent. A man capable of anything to achieve his ends."

The fury coursing through Gabriel demanded blood. He wanted to beat the blackguard to a pulp. Mainly because his villainy exposed his very weakness. His own doubts and fears. In the end, he offered her the only thing that was in his power, his unconditional support, insufficient as it was.

"I may not have the legal standing to come to your defense, but know that I will take every precaution, do all in my power, to ensure your reputation is not besmirched. And no matter what happens, I will always stand by your side."

THE EARNESTNESS IN Gabriel's gaze was unmistakable. It was all the more valuable because she knew how much it cost him to rein in his instinct to act. That he would do so on her behalf warmed her, dissolved the icy knot of fear that had taken residence in her stomach since Blackwell's visit yesterday.

Here was a good, strong man willing to stand by her side, come what may. Willing to give her his all. What more could she ask? She must be equally strong and not dissolve into a ball of nerves at the first complication. What did she expect? That this business would be smooth sailing? Na?ve of her. The path forward was fraught with complications. And this one wasn't even an unexpected one. But regardless of the pitfalls, they had elected to follow this course.

She took the first deep breath since yesterday morning. Squeezing his hands that were so tenderly holding hers, she gave him a tremulous but heartfelt smile.

"Thank you. It means everything to me, your support, your reassurance."

He brought her hands to his lips and kissed each one of them with such reverence that her heart tripped and tumbled inside her chest. His lips slid along her knuckles, eliciting goosebumps along her arm. His warm, humid breath seared her skin. Her inhale fractured.

"Of course, love. Now, will you promise me something?" He spoke against her hands, still holding them against his mouth as if he couldn't bear to part with her.

"Y-yes."

His eyes held hers in thrall as he turned her hand and deposited an open-mouthed kiss against her palm. Pleasure arced from that point through her arms and converged in her core, liquefying her center. Drowning the fear with a more urgent need.

"Promise me that you will put him, and all your fears, away from your mind. Trust me. Let me carry your burdens, my love."

She tried to speak, to tell him she trusted him. That he was the one person she relied upon. But only an incoherent mewl escaped before his mouth descended on hers. Hot. Hungry. Possessive. All-consuming. She welcomed it. There was no fear in his arms. Only freedom. Pleasure. She clung to him, her hands tangling in his hair, scratching his scalp. He groaned into her mouth, the sound so full of need that it lit a corresponding hunger in her.

She needed this man. Now. Forever. If he wanted to take her here, in this hired hackney, she would let him. Was this insanity?

The slowing of the carriage permeated her consciousness. He eased the kiss, slowly coaxing her back to earth.

She opened her eyes to find stormy blue eyes, so dark they seemed almost slate, staring back at her from a scant two inches away. The impact of the emotion within them at this close range stole her breath.

"Come on, Duchess. We have arrived at our first stop. Let's see what adventures await us today."