Patrica Rice (20 page)

The tears and the tension leached out of her with these rough words, and Daphne had to smile wryly at the half-dressed man in the bed. He was not the polished viscount at all, but a rogue and a warrior with no polite words of comfort to offer. But he offered what he had with a sincerity that made her feel at home in this preposterous situation. She hadn’t felt at home anywhere since her mother died. Sighing a little in relief, she went back to Evan’s comforting shoulder and scraped a finger daringly over his bristly cheek.

“Robin Hood. Tell me the story of Robin Hood.”

“And Lady Marion,” he added.

Their easy companionship in the dark made the night comfortable. As their stories lapsed into fewer and fewer words, and Daphne struggled to keep her eyes open, Evan found it easier to pull her closer until her head rested comfortably in the curve between his shoulder and chest. By dawn, she was sound asleep and curled against his side and Evan held her securely wrapped in his arms, his cheek resting against her soft cloud of hair. It was as close to heaven as he would ever come, he reasoned, but he took no advantage from it.

He watched a rosy dawn break through the grimy window, and glanced down at the long sable lashes spread across fair cheeks in sleep. The dawn spilled a fresh hue across Daphne’s skin, and her moist lips parted in sleep stirred longings he tried to set aside. She was warm and softly curved in his arms, and he ached with more than just physical longing. He had never spent a night like this in his life, and he could easily imagine a lifetime of such nights and more.

Evan wondered what it would be like to have the right to kiss those lips every night. That led him to wonder all manner of wondrous things, and before he was quite aware of what he was doing, he bent to cover her mouth with his.

He only meant a gentle kiss, but Daphne’s lips seemed to wake beneath his, gradually dawning to the delights of this tender touch, and their mouths began to blend with a will of their own. Evan gathered her closer, feeling the soft curve of her breast beneath his hand as he lifted her to him, but she made no protest. Her arms slid willingly around his neck, and he was lost in the tender delights of her charms.

The sound of voices rising in the hall below did not disturb them immediately. Too engrossed in the discovery of what lips and hands can do, they were beyond considering the outside world. Daphne shivered with previously undiscovered need as Evan’s hand slid from her waist to reverently touch uncharted curves, and her lips parted in a startled “oh,” allowing him full access to further exploration. Her body quivered with taut expectation beneath his unhurried caresses, and she scarcely heeded the noises indicating the inn was awake and bustling.

Only the sound of a familiar voice rising in cheery greeting belowstairs penetrated their haven. As Gordon’s voice battered at their senses, they drew apart and stared at each other in dazed incomprehension.

This wasn’t like it was supposed to be. Evan caught his fingers in the curling silk of Daphne’s hair and gazed down in disbelief at the fathomless depths of her wide eyes. He winced at the sight of her reddened cheeks where his beard had chafed her, but her kiss-swollen lips beckoned him to further mischief. He had not touched the drawstring of her gown, but one sleeve had slid aside and his wandering hand had pulled the fragile material to expose the creamy curve of her skin beneath. She was thoroughly compromised, and he could see the knowledge of that fact rising in those glorious eyes.

He gently straightened the bodice of her gown and set her back on the mattress, grateful he’d had the sense to don his trousers before climbing into bed with her.

More to himself than to her, he said, “At times like these, I wonder how much it is you understand, and actually find myself praying that it is very little. I’m not certain that I know myself this morning.”

Daphne knew the feeling, and because she did, she raised her hand to stroke Evan’s bristly cheek. “I know enough, my gallant Robin, to know we are both a sight. That does not bode at all well for your explanations to Gordon.”

“No.” Curtly, Evan rose and checked the water in the pitcher. “There’s enough here that you might freshen yourself. I don’t know what Gordon plans, but he knows where this room is. I have no doubt that he’ll be here shortly.”

Daphne reluctantly rose from the rumpled bed. She did not at all feel herself, but she wasn’t certain who she might be either. She crossed the room to wash away the evidence of what they had been doing.

She didn’t dare scrutinize their behavior too closely. It had seemed perfectly right at the time, but now, with the sun shining across the room and Gordon’s voice speaking cheerfully below, it seemed rather sordid. She sent Evan’s profile a quick glance as he stood by the window, but as usual, she could read nothing of his expression. Only his stiff stance told her he felt much the same as she.

She scrubbed at her face and used Evan’s comb to pull some of the tangles from her hair. To search for her pins would be futile, so she hastily made a loose braid and tied it with a ribbon. She had donned her spencer and overskirt and was fastening the tiny buttons when Evan finally swung around to face her again.

“I cannot offer you the wealth and title that Gordon can, but I can offer you what little protection my name affords. Do not worry on that account. I just wish I were in a better position to protect you from the embarrassment that will follow.”

“You are scarcely to blame. We would be better concerned with how to keep you from the gallows. I cannot believe this is a safe hiding place any longer.”

The rapid knock at the door prevented further reply. Steeling himself, Evan crossed the room and threw the bolt, placing himself between the visitor and any sight of the room as he opened the door a crack.

“Let me in, you devil, before I call Rollings up here myself.” Gordon’s normally affable voice, even though spoken in a harsh whisper, came all too clearly into the room. There was nothing of affability in it now.

Daphne stifled a moan of dismay and stepped forward to stand firmly beside Evan.

Chapter Fifteen

Evan opened the door sufficiently to allow his twin to enter, then bolted it behind him. Gordon stared at the two of them with their rumpled clothes and guilty expressions, and the anger fled his face, replaced with a quiet despair.

“Rollings’s story of finding only a couple of drunken newlyweds in the rooms upstairs rather had me concerned, but this isn’t what I had imagined. You’ll have to give me a minute to sort this one out. I hadn’t expected to have to get two of you out of here. The soldiers below aren’t in the best of humors for having lost a night of sleep to the cold and wet with nothing to show for it.”

Evan did not move from Daphne’s side, but neither did he touch her to lend support. Stoically, he faced his brother’s condemnation. “It is not as you think. We’ll make explanations later, but first we must smuggle Daphne out. It will not be so easy in the daylight.”

Daphne met Gordon’s questioning look without flinching. She had done this to herself, and oddly, now that the first shock of discovery was over, she felt no shame. She felt sorrow for any hurt she might have caused, and perhaps later she would regret what she had done, but she did not now. “I came through the garden and up the back stairs. My cart is down the alley from the river. I daresay it will have been seen.”

Gordon nodded, but Evan was the one who spoke. “You’ll have to smuggle her maid back here, pretend it was the maid who had the cart and abandoned it in the storm. If we maneuver it right, you can make it look as if you brought Daphne here to look for her maid.”

The two men exchanged glances. In boyhood, they had played many a trick on their elders by disguising their identity and seemingly being in two places at once. There had been incidents with various willing maids and the like, but none quite like this. Never before had they attempted to deceive soldiers or hide ladies.

“Daphne, will your maid help? Your aunt is frantic, but I can think of no other alternative.”

“Tillie fancies herself too high in the instep, but Marie is good for a lark. She’s rather silly and giggles too much, but she’ll do whatever you ask.”

Daphne wanted to send abject apologies to her aunt, offer never to darken her door again, propose that a carriage be sent to take her directly to Bath in disgrace, but she sensed neither of the twins was ready for that, for all she knew that was what it would come to. She would let them plan their strategies and feel as if they protected her. But she knew her plans of living her life out here had come to an end.

“Fine. I’ll go below and mention that I have just discovered the identity of the ‘drunken couple’ and say I have gone to inform Daphne’s household of the sad news about her maid’s disgrace.”

Gordon sent his brother a sharp took. “While I’m gone, manage to shave, if you will. And trim his hair up, Daphne. I’ll not have him posing as me looking like that.”

He left without further explanation, leaving her more bewildered than relieved. She turned to the stiff man beside her. “What does he mean to do? I’ll not have Marie’s reputation besmirched because of me.”

Evan shrugged and strode toward the washstand. “This is the way we’ve always worked. Gordon is good at details. I’m only good for ideas. You’ll have to trust him.”

It was Gordon’s safety that had put Evan into this position, Daphne realized. She was just beginning to understand the strength of the bond between the two men. They would do anything for each other. But somehow she was beginning to come between them.

She didn’t want it to be like that, and she stared at Evan’s turned back with helplessness. He had grown cold and prickly when Gordon entered the room, and Gordon had become aloof and unreachable. That wasn’t natural for either man.

Out of respect for her presence, Evan kept his shirt on as he lathered his face. She perched nervously on the window ledge, but it wasn’t the greenery outside that held her attention. The broad play of Evan’s shoulders as he leaned to look into the wavy mirror did strange things to her pulse. When he lifted his chin to work the straight edge underneath, her toes fairly curled in her boots.

Daphne stared down at her leather halfboots and emitted a giggle that sent Evan’s head swinging in her direction. At his quizzical stare, she held out her leather-clad toe. “Do you think Gordon will understand we did nothing if we tell him I kept my boots on?”

Evan watched the sun dance off her hair and in her eyes and gave a ragged sigh, releasing all the minutes of tense guilt and self-condemnation that his brother’s presence had engendered. Miss Daphne Templeton was a world unto herself, and he had to grin in appreciation. The rest of the world might very well count her mad, but whatever drummer she marched to, he would like to follow.

“He’ll only understand if I offer to die with my boots on, and he’s allowed to wield the weapon. We’re well in the briars right now. It will take some fast talking to bring him down out of the boughs.”

Daphne loved it when she could hear the grin in his voice like that. She rather thought Evan used to laugh more than he did now. Perhaps war had taken the fun out of his life, but he needn’t be as solemn as Gordon anymore. She felt satisfaction in having relieved some of his tension. “He will fly up into the boughs even higher should I begin talking like that, or Melanie. Your language is quite abominable, you realize.”

Evan grew sober at the mention of his sister, and he returned to his task. “Right now my only concern is to get you and Melanie and Grandfather out of here. I don’t know what Gordon is about to allow you to linger.”

“‘I should think it would be more than difficult to order the earl to do anything he didn’t wish to do,” Daphne replied with a trace of acerbity. She didn’t wish to be sent away any longer. Her place was here, whether he liked it or not. Of course, if Evan didn’t want her here, she would have to leave. “But he was to go with us to Bath this morning. I fear I may have overset Gordon’s plans.”

“If you’re packed, there should be no reason for you not to leave this afternoon. I’ll make things right with Gordon while you’re gone, and one of us will come for you when it’s all over.”

Daphne sent his back a quizzical took. Did he truly think this incident could be wiped clean, that Gordon and her aunt would pretend it had never happened? She could not be allowed to accompany Melanie after this. A fallen woman scarcely made a suitable chaperone for a young girl.

Evan had made the obligatory offer, but obviously, his heart wasn’t in it. The brief hope that had flickered within her died quickly. It was very well and good to imagine two men fighting over her, but experience said that they fought to see which one was stuck with her. It was a good thing she had a level head on her shoulders; imagination was a dangerous thing.

“I rather think you’ll find some objection to that,” she replied, “but do not worry. I am quite accustomed to traveling alone and have any number of relatives on whom to call. If my aunt writes them of my disgrace, it will make things difficult, but I have my own income.

“I’m certain your grandfather will agree to take Melanie away once you explain to him that there is some danger in keeping her here. Make up a story if you cannot tell the true one. Dangerous highwaymen and drunken soldiers always put fear in the hearts of protective parents.”

Evan set his razor aside, wiped his face clean, and stared at Daphne in bemusement. She seemed to have dismissed his offer entirely. She was quite right, he supposed. For all their talk, he had no future, and she no doubt had set her heart on Gordon. Daphne had too much character to settle for a man she did not love or could not care for. Thinking Gordon would abandon her now, she had decided to leave the area entirely. He would have to make things right with Gordon. Of all people, Evan knew how much Daphne needed the home she had found here.

“Do not dwell on it. First, we must get you out. Can you use my knife to trim my hair?”

The task seemed an impossible one, but the chance to touch Evan’s thick, golden-brown locks gave Daphne incentive to try. While Gordon raced to smuggle her maid back to the inn, Daphne cut the lightly curling ends of Evan’s hair. She did not pride herself into thinking she had accomplished a stylish Brutus cut, but it did not curl about his collar when she finished. If Gordon brought a hat, the top would be well concealed.