Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) (11 page)

“Oh, but they will. They’ll have no choice, for if they received me, it would bring shame upon them. I cannot see anyone or speak to them. And I can’t say that’s something I’m looking forward to.” She turned back to him. “I will send word to my family, I promise. But I’ll ask them to meet me at Falsham.”

She was stalling the inevitable. And yet, the rules and intricacies that she lived by were impossible for Cain to believe. “You don’t think trying to save your sister’s virtue will matter to them?”

“Not when I’ve compromised my own.”

She spoke as if her life had ended, that all was lost. He cared naught for what anyone thought of him, but he knew she would be hurt by the cruel words. And he wanted to protect her from that.

“What will happen to your sister, once she’s found?” he asked.

“She’ll have to marry quickly.” Margaret glanced back at him. “And honestly, I do pray that Lord Castledon found her. He might be a stern widower, but I’ve seen the pair of them together. Amelia makes him laugh, and I think he cares a great deal for her.”

“I thought she was trying to match
you
up with him.” Cain remembered the way her meddling younger sister had kept trying to bring Margaret and the earl together.

“Oh, he was kind enough. But he’s not for me.”

“I’m glad to hear that I won’t have to be killing him, then.” He tightened his grip around her waist, and she stared back at him.

“You wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Well, I might no’ kill him. But aye, if any man tried to claim you, I’d take you away from him.” He saw no reason to hide his intentions. “But we were talking about your sister. If she weds Castledon, will he protect her?”

“There would be talk, but the earl could shield her from it. His actions would silence those who would seek to hurt Amelia.”

He thought it strange that marriage would solve nearly any indiscretion, whether the bride was at fault or not.

“Would marriage save you?” he asked quietly.

She bowed her head and admitted, “No man would have me. Not after this.”

“I’ll have you, lass. You ken that already.” He kept her close, resting his mouth against her nape. It didn’t matter to him what any of them thought. Margaret had saved his life, and he’d do what was necessary to protect her.

She remained in his arms, leaning her head back against him for the barest moment. But when he nipped at the soft skin of her shoulder, she tensed immediately and sat up straighter. “You’re a good man,” she murmured. “And if it were that simple, I know we could come to an arrangement. But we both know that I have to wed a titled lord. Someone with enough power behind his good name that it would overcome my faults.”

Aye, he was penniless, without a drop of blue blood. But he could protect her far better than any man with “Lord” in front of his name. And it was beginning to irritate him that she couldn’t seem to move past the need for a title.

“Thank you for your offer, Mr. Sinclair,” she said, tilting her head back to face him. “It was kind of you.”

She might have been thanking him for opening a door or helping her onto a horse. “Save your good manners, Miss Andrews. Especially when you’d rather go into isolation for years, ne’er showing your face, than wed a man like me.” His words found their mark and she turned away.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Aye. I don’t ken why you care so much about what others think. What kind of life is that, lass?”

“It’s the way I was raised.” Her voice was heavy, as though she was fighting back tears. “I’ve made my mistakes, and I’ll accept the consequences for them.”

Although they were as opposite as coal and diamonds, he didn’t like the idea of her being punished for trying to help her sister. “Damn them all, Margaret. They’re no’ worth it.”

She didn’t deserve to become an outcast for this. And would to God he could stand at her side to defend her. If any man dared to speak lies against her, Cain would shred the man apart.

“Even if none of this had happened,” she continued, “if I did marry a man like you, it would be an even greater scandal.”

Anger took hold inside him like a hot coal searing wood into smoke. “Don’t worry, lass,” he said. “I won’t be asking you again.”

Margaret jerked the reins from his hands, pulling the mare to a stop. She turned to face him. “I
am
grateful to you, for all that you’ve done. You went on this journey with me, and you protected me at every turn. I could not ask for anything more.”

Then she touched his cheek with her left hand. “You’re an honorable man, Mr. Sinclair. But we both know that a marriage between us would be nothing but a mistake.”

She’d wounded his pride. Margaret knew it, just as she knew she’d thrown down a gauntlet. She hadn’t meant to be that blunt, but Cain Sinclair frightened her. He seemed to reach past her years of good breeding, finding another woman inside. Around him, she rebelled against all that was right and proper. She climbed atop burning coaches and allowed him to take far more liberties than he should. With every moment she spent at his side, she felt herself becoming someone else—a wicked woman who cared nothing about propriety or what was right. A woman who reveled in the freedom he’d given her.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Before she could pull her palm away, Sinclair caught it and covered her hand with his own. The heat of his skin warmed her hand, and her face flushed at the contact.

He had saved her life, and she didn’t want him to believe she was disdaining him. She couldn’t put into words the way she felt about him, but fear and desire were tangled in a knot. She’d been raised in a world where marriages were forged upon uniting families with noble blood. All her life, she’d prepared for an ambitious union, one where she could be useful to a husband. She knew the intricacies of good manners and could host a dinner party in the same way a general could plot out a battle strategy.

And the first time she’d chosen a man to marry, it had ended in disaster.
Poor Margaret, left behind before her wedding day. The viscount only asked her to marry him because of a wager. He never intended to go through with it.

“Don’t pity me, lass.” His voice held a dangerous edge, and she didn’t know how to calm the rigid anger within him.

“It wasn’t pity,” she protested. “I was only trying to thank you for what you did. I apologize if you thought it was.”

“That’s no’ a verra good apology,” he said, touching her nape. His deep blue eyes caught hers, holding a warning. “I think you need to apologize again.”

She tried to avert her face, but he wouldn’t pull back. Instead, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His blue eyes were burning with sensual intent.

“This is a better apology,” he told her, as he leaned in and captured her lips. His mouth moved against hers lightly, and it sent a wave of warmth rippling over her skin. It was a gentle kiss, inviting her to lean in. He coaxed her, making her want to surrender every last inch of propriety. It was as if invisible hands were touching her, stroking secret places deep inside. She couldn’t have pulled away if she’d wanted to.

This man was, and always had been, forbidden to her. He was raw, untamed, and didn’t care a whit about what anyone thought. In his kiss, she tasted sin and temptation.

And God help her, she wanted him badly. He made her want to throw her life away, seizing the pleasure he could bring. His tongue probed at her, entering her mouth. Her imagination conjured up visions of his hands moving over her bare flesh. Heat shot through her, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Cain was kissing her boldly, his hands moving to rest upon her waist.

“What are you doing?” she managed to ask against his mouth.

“I’m showing you what you’re giving up, by refusing to wed me.” He moved his mouth close to her ear, capturing her earlobe. “If you were mine, lass, I’d stop right this moment. I’d lay you down upon the grass and take you until you cried out my name.”

Against her hip, she felt the hard length of his arousal, and she knew he meant what he’d said.

“But you won’t,” she reminded him. “Because you promised to keep me safe.”

“I ne’er promised no’ to tempt you, lass.”

Her lips were bruised from his lips, but he’d made her feel alive. “You think to compromise me in truth, don’t you? Everyone will believe it anyway.” Frowning, she added, “That isn’t the woman I want to be.”

“I asked you to be a wife, no’ a mistress,” he reminded her.

She knew that. But even so, she suspected that Cain Sinclair would not relent in his pursuit. And despite her protests, he’d awakened a part of her that was hungry to learn more.

God help them both.

Chapter Five

T
hey reached a village when it was nearly nightfall. There was no inn, but Cain arranged for them to stay in a farmer’s barn. Margaret wasn’t at all eager to sleep amid the straw and animals, but the only alternative was to sleep outside.

It was freezing cold at night, even wearing Cain’s coat. She wished that she’d had the foresight to bring a spencer or a cloak to cover her dress. Not only to push back the cold, but also to avoid the stares she’d received from the villagers. They’d eyed her as if she were mad. Perhaps she was, to make such a journey in a torn ball gown.

But Cain had suffered more. After the long distance they’d traveled, his mouth had been set in a tight line when they’d stopped. If they were to continue, he needed something to ease the wounds on his back.

For that reason, she’d sought the help of an apothecary to look at his burns. She’d slipped out when he wasn’t looking and asked a few of the villagers before she found the right man. The apothecary was younger than she’d expected, nearly her age, and she wondered if he would know how to treat Cain’s wounds.

“I’ve a salve that will ease the burns,” the man had answered. He eyed her torn ball gown. “If you’ve a means of paying for the medicine.”

Margaret nodded. “I have, yes.” She twisted the ring on her finger. “We won’t be staying long. We actually came in search of my sister Amelia, who might have come through this village a few weeks ago.” She described the young woman to the apothecary. “Did you happen to see anyone who looks like her?”

He shook his head. “The pair of you are the first visitors we’ve seen in weeks. Though I must say, you’re not like the travelers we normally see. A few shepherds, some peddlers. Not ladies.”

Her mood dimmed. If Amelia had not come this way, then likely Lord Lisford had taken the main roads. This impulsive journey had been for nothing at all. It was what she’d suspected, but she’d needed to ask. “Bring the salve with you, and I’ll take you to my husband.”

She led him back to the barn, but before she could enter, Sinclair was already outside searching for her. There was immediate relief on his face when he saw her, and she could tell he was angry that she’d left.

“What’s he doing here?” Sinclair demanded, as soon as she walked forward with the man.

“This is Mr. Snow, the village apothecary,” Margaret explained. “He’s here to look at your back.”

“My back is fine,” he said. “ ’Twill heal well enough.”

Which was a lie. She knew how badly he was hurting. “Take off your shirt,” Margaret demanded. To the apothecary, she apologized, “I fear my husband is in a great deal of pain. We survived a fire on our journey here, but his burns have not healed well.”

Cain moved toward her, using his height as intimidation. She tilted her neck back to meet his iron stare. “I don’t need your help,
wife
.”

Margaret smiled at the apothecary. “Isn’t it just like a man, not to know when he needs help?”

Cain’s expression held frustration, and she didn’t doubt he wanted to rage at her for embarrassing him like this. His blue eyes darkened like gunmetal, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “It’s no’ necessary.”

“If you don’t want the salve, I can be on my way,” Mr. Snow offered, holding up the container. He looked as if he didn’t want to get involved in their quarrel.

“We do,” she answered.

“He’s no’ touching me,” Cain snapped. “Leave it be, Margaret.”

She glared at him, for this wasn’t his decision to make. “I’ll take the salve and apply it myself. We’re also in need of food and supplies for the rest of our journey,” she told the apothecary. “Bring us enough to last another week, and you may have this ring.”

The man agreed, hurrying out while Cain turned to her. “We don’t need those things, lass.”

“We have no food left,” she reminded him, leading him inside the barn. “And I, for one, am quite hungry.” She suspected half of his ill temper was due to a growling stomach. A good meal would help both of them. “Now take your shirt off, so I can put your medicine on.”

“What makes you think I’ll do what you say, lass?” His voice held a tangible threat, but she ignored it and unpinned the plaid, pushing it off before she unfastened the top button of his shirt. The moment she touched him, his eyes flared with heat.

Standing this close, she was aware of his male scent and how easily he could overpower her. Her finger passed over his bare chest and she tugged at the linen to lift it over his head.