One Magic Moment (26 page)
He smiled, leaned over, and paused. “I was thinking to give it a go.”
“Heaven help
me
,” she managed.
me
,” she managed.
He put his finger under her chin, turned her face slightly away from him, and kissed her cheek.
“I’ll come get your door,” he said, pulling back. “And see to our little brown Ford.” He got out of the car, then leaned back down and looked at her. “What do you think?”
What she thought was that if he came that close to kissing her again and didn’t, she was going to deck him.
“I think,” she managed, “that I’m in trouble where you’re concerned.”
He smiled, a quick little smile that showed off his dimple to its best advantage, then straightened and shut the door. Tess leaned her head back against the seat and concentrated on not hyperventilating.
Five minutes later she was sitting in the other seat, watching John watch the road in front of and behind them with equal intensity. She didn’t say anything. Either she was imagining things or she wasn’t. She didn’t like being in the middle of it, though. She much preferred studying things from the sidelines.
“Is he there?” she asked when they neared their village.
“Yes,” John said simply. He glanced in the mirror once more, then whipped down a side street so quickly, she lost her breath.
The tires didn’t squeal, though, not that time, nor the next time.
“You’ve been watching too many movies,” she said breathlessly.
“A good driving school,” he corrected dryly, then pulled the car over and waited.
She realized they were now facing the way they’d come. The little brown Ford seemed to realize the jig was up because it executed a rather poor three-point turn in the middle of the street and sped back off the other way.
“Told you,” she managed. “Babes in bodices trying to figure out where you live so they can come ogle you.”
He only tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the steering wheel, then looked at her. “I should have looked in your car park the night of that large party.”
“It could have been Bill the Brainless.”
“I don’t think he could have fit under the wheel of that thing,” John said. He studied the road for another minute or two. “How many more events do you have this week?
“A family reunion tonight,” she said, “but nothing for the rest of the weekend, but that’s on purpose.” She paused. “I have plans.”
He stopped tapping. “Plans?”
“A non-date with Lord Haulton,” she said. “There is, if you can believe it, a Regency-style house party at Payneswick. Stephen has been dragging me to it for five years now. I think he enjoys doing a Mr. Darcy impression.”
He looked at her, then. “And you?”
“I enjoy trying to get into Lord Payneswick’s library.”
John smiled briefly. “A priceless medieval text?”
“More than one, actually.” She hesitated. “I don’t suppose you would want to come along.”
He studied her. “You couldn’t possibly be asking me out on a
date
, Dr. Alexander, could you?”
date
, Dr. Alexander, could you?”
“What would you say if I were?”
He considered. She could see the wheels turning and imagined all that turning had a great deal to do with Stephen de Piaget. To be cooped up in close quarters with the man for an extended period of time might be just more than he could take.
He finally just frowned, put the car in gear, and drove on. She didn’t press him. He was probably figuring out a good way to tell her no, which she supposed was for the best. They had seen more of each other over the past week than he’d wanted to or was good for her heart. A little break might be just the thing.
He was silent as he drove her home, silent as he fetched her out of the car, and still silent as he walked her across the drawbridge and up the steps to her front door. He opened it for her, looked inside, then stood aside to let her pass by.
She turned to look at him. “Well?”
He dragged his hand through his hair, then sighed. “I think it best I don’t go.”
“All right.” She honestly would have been more surprised if he’d said yes. And after all, the world wasn’t going to end before she saw him again the following week. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Nay, you won’t,” he said, “because I don’t want you to go, either.”
She blinked. “What?”
He chewed on his words for a minute. “That car was following us.”
“It was following
you
.”
you
.”
“I don’t know that’s the case and until I’m sure, I want you tucked inside your castle with the doors locked where I know you’re safe.”
She would have smiled in disbelief, but she knew he wasn’t kidding. And she was also absolutely sure that he wasn’t telling her everything he knew and until he did, she was under no obligation to be not only herded but penned. Besides, she had the feeling this was her year to get into Lord Payneswick’s private books. Stephen had been sucking up to the man all year long with that end in sight. She wasn’t about to pass on the opportunity to be there.
“I appreciate the concern,” she said honestly, “but Stephen has already paid for my ticket, as well as one for Peaches. We’ll both be fine.”
John was not a happy camper, that much she could say. She wondered, absently, what Montgomery would have done in his place. Probably drawn his sword and prodded Pippa back inside the hall with it. Poor John only had frowns to use, which he did without hesitation.
“Is Haulton coming to fetch you?” he asked curtly.
“What difference does that make?”
“It makes a great deal of difference,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Now, is he coming to fetch you, or must I call him and insist that he does?”
“I think he’s been at Artane this week,” she said, finding that it wasn’t all that difficult all of a sudden to dredge up a brisk tone of her own, “digging through artifacts for a paper he’s working on. Peaches and I are driving north to meet him, and no, you absolutely can’t call him and order him around like you do me.”
He folded his arms over his chest, apparently the ultimate de Piaget pose of intimidation. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t care what you like,” she said before she thought better of it.
The unfortunate truth was, she did care. It mattered to her quite a bit that he was concerned about her.
A bit more than she was comfortable with, actually.
“In spite of that,” he said, looking as if he were making great efforts to be polite, “I would prefer that you remain here.”
“And I would prefer that you stop telling me what to do.”
He pursed his lips, then made her a low bow. “As my lady wishes,” he said coolly.
“French again, John,” she pointed out.
He glared at her, then turned and walked down her steps. He stopped on the courtyard floor, then turned and looked up at her. “Lock the door.”
“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” she said incredulously.
“Lock the bloody door, Tess,” he growled.
She started to slam it shut, then she paused and looked out the door at him. “Are we having a fight?”
“I believe so.”
“Is it going well?”
He swore. Then he took a deep breath and cursed a bit more. He walked up the steps, pulled her into his arms, and clutched her to him.
“Tess, please,” he whispered against her ear, “
please
stay home.”
please
stay home.”
She had to take a deep breath, and not just because he was holding her as if he never intended to let her go. “Please come with me.”
He held her for another very long moment, then released her without looking at her. He walked out the door and jogged down her trio of steps. He turned and motioned for her to shut the door.
She did, then turned and leaned back against it. The man was going to make her crazy. In fact, if she hadn’t known how to take him because of what he was hiding, she wouldn’t have taken him at all. Bossy, dictatorial, sheepdoggish.
Chivalrous, tender, fearless.
She had the feeling it was going to be a very long weekend without him.
Chapter 14
J
ohn
stood in front of the small hearth in his rented cottage and forced himself to look at what was in front of him. He wasn’t one to shy away from the difficult, but even he had to admit that what was going on in his life was becoming a bit much.
ohn
stood in front of the small hearth in his rented cottage and forced himself to look at what was in front of him. He wasn’t one to shy away from the difficult, but even he had to admit that what was going on in his life was becoming a bit much.
Things were much as he’d come home to find them the evening before. His table had been laid out for tea with his Claymore propped up conveniently against his chair. It had been rather unsettling, truth be told, and he had seen his share of unsettling things. He’d scoured the inside of his cottage, the garden, and his shop for clues, but found nothing, not even any tyre tracks that were discernible from those already there.
Someone was stalking him.
He was beginning to fear that he might be drawing Tess into danger by passing any time at all in her company.
And the thought of
that
about did him in.
that
about did him in.
He’d slept very poorly, then been up at dawn in his garden, putting that Scottish broadsword to good use. A pity he didn’t have anyone to use it on. It certainly would have simplified things.
He’d spent the past two hours wrestling with himself. He wasn’t at all keen on the idea of Tess driving with Peaches all the way to Lincolnshire so she could put on Regency-era garb and have that damned Stephen de Piaget slobber all over her.
He took a deep breath. It wasn’t Stephen who bothered him. It was whoever else was out there that he couldn’t see and wasn’t sure of. He could hope that ’twas only him the soul had in his sights, but he couldn’t guarantee that.
And he didn’t like that at all.
He had showered, tossed gear into a backpack, and wrestled with himself a bit longer. He wasn’t sure what would be worse: dragging Tess into his unknown madness or sitting at home like a woman, wondering if she were being dragged into his madness just the same.
He pulled his mobile out of his pocket and dialed her number. It rang three times before she picked up.
“Yes?” she said coolly.
He wasn’t at all surprised by her tone. She was, he suspected, easily as stubborn as he was and well versed in the strategies of warfare, even if in a purely academic way. He had fired the opening salvo, as it were, without apology or hesitation. She wasn’t going to leave herself open to further attack. Obviously the only way to approach the battlefield and come away conqueror was to perpetrate a strategy she wouldn’t expect.
“I apologize,” he said without hesitation.
He could have sworn he heard the faintest huff of a laugh. “For what, you big bully?”
“For herding you,” he said. “Is it too late to accompany you north where I might attempt not to herd you a bit more?”
“I’m leaving in ten minutes,” she said, then hung up.
He snatched up his backpack and ran for the shop’s Range Rover. He would have preferred the Vanquish for its ability to outrun ruffians, but Tess and Peaches couldn’t share a seat, so the Rover it would have to be.
He pulled into their car park as Tess was putting her key into the Ford’s door. He hopped out of his car with alacrity and relieved Peaches of her wee suitcase and plopped it in his boot before she could protest. He held open the back door for her and smiled pleasantly.
“Allow me to help milady’s lovely sister into my carriage,” he said with a small bow.
“I’ve already bought what you’re selling,” she said with an amused smile. “Don’t waste any more time on me.”
“I might still see to your lunch on the way,” he offered.
“Done.”
He shut her door, then turned to the sterner test. Tess was simply watching him. He walked around her car, then gently removed the strap of her overnight bag from her shoulder. He put it where she couldn’t get at it without his keys, then returned for her. He started to clasp his hands behind his back in preparation for another bit of flowery sentiment, but only succeeded in dropping his keys.
It wasn’t that he was nervous. It was . . . well, it was because she had him so turned around, he scarce recognized himself any longer.
Or perhaps it had been Fate.
He squatted down to retrieve his keys near her front tyre, then froze. It took no especial skill to recognize the faint smell lingering there, but he supposed he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t spent so much time under the bonnet of his own cars.
Brake fluid.
He considered for a moment or two, then took a careful breath and rose. He looked at Tess with what he hoped was less of a grimace and more of a pleasant expression.
She wasn’t fooled. “What?” she asked immediately.
“Sore knee,” he lied without hesitation.
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