“What on earth are you doing?” she whispered, staring at the vast expanse of masculine chest now inches from her nose.
Oh Lordy, he is gorgeous.
“Catching influenza,” he replied dryly, oblivious to her slow perusal. “Come on, let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and hauled her through the trees only to stop after only a few steps. “We have to leave the horse behind I am afraid.”
“We can’t just abandon him,” Rose protested. “How is he to feed himself? No, I won’t do it.”
Barnaby shook his head in disbelief. He was now chilled to the bone and annoyed that Fate was so determinedly conspiring against them all the damned time. The last thing he needed was to have to coax some recalcitrant female into staying safe. Still, he couldn’t leave Rose to her own devices any more than she could leave the horse.
“Alright, but hurry up,” he growled.
With Barnaby tugging on one hand and the horse tugging on the other as it carefully picked its way through the broken branches on the floor, Rose felt as though she was being torn in two. Her shoulders soon began to ache, but she refused to relinquish her hold on the horse. Nor could she let go of Barnaby.
“Will you slow down,” she pleaded.
“We need to be quick,” Barnaby replied without breaking his stride.
“I can’t go any faster,” she protested. “I can’t see where I am going and neither can the horse.”
“Hurry up,” he urged again just a few steps later.
When it became evident that Rose couldn’t move fast enough, partly because of the horse and partly because of her dress and dancing slippers, Barnaby hauled her into his arms.
“No, put me down,” she hissed when she found herself slung over his shoulder for the second time that night; his bare shoulder this time.
She watched him throw his cloak and shirt over the horse’s back and sighed in dismay.
“No,” Barnaby growled as he snatched the horse’s reins off her.
Picking up the pace, he clicked the animal on and forged a path through the woods. Now and then he stopped to listen for movement behind them but could hear nothing beyond the thundering of his own heart. Rather than be lulled into any false sense of security, Barnaby remained watchful and alert as he traversed the uneven landscape with determined strides until they reached a clearing on the other side.
“We need to get you out of that dress,” Barnaby growled as he deposited her onto her feet.
“I will not take it off,” Rose protested. She winced when she moved and coarse twigs bit mercilessly into the tender soles of her feet but didn’t utter a word of protest. She was still breathless from her journey. “You really do have to stop carrying me over your shoulder like that,” she grumbled as she rubbed her sore stomach.
“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered suddenly. Pushing her before him, he nudged her behind a fallen log and stood protectively over her while he studied the trees. “Cover your dress up.”
Rose immediately knelt on the ground and studied the trees. She couldn’t hear anything. She wanted to ask him what he had heard but daren’t. Instead, she caught the cloak he threw at her and quickly tugged it over her clothing. The sight of his carved features bathed in shadows was somewhat sinister, and reinforced the fact that in spite of their time together, and everything they had shared, Barnaby was still a stranger. The man now squatting beside her, one hand clenched tightly around a gun, was hard, threatening even, and someone she didn’t recognise. It galled her to admit it but she still didn’t know anything about him because he had refused to tell her. That realisation was enough to fuel Rose’s deep disquiet about the whole situation.
Could she trust him after all? Or was Barnaby keeping his real identity from her for a more sinister reason? One thing was for certain, Rose was now stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either way, her future was now as bleak as it had ever been.
What shocked her even more than the situation she was in was the realisation that in spite of everything, she still didn’t want to go home.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Barnaby put his finger to his lips. His eyes silently pleaded with her to do as he asked without screeching, protesting, or asking any questions. Thankfully, she seemed to get the message because she remained mute as she crept quietly through the woods behind him.
Barnaby was her lifeline and nothing was going to part her from him. Rose didn’t know which was worse; being able to see Chadwick behind them, or not knowing where he was. She had to rely on Barnaby to know what he was doing. She kept looking behind them but all she could see were shadows and trees. She had never been so terrified in her life.
“This way,” Barnaby breathed into her ear.
Rose was amazed when a sensual shiver of awareness slithered down her spine. Here she was in the middle of the night, frozen, scared out of her wits with a killer chasing her, and all she could think of was how wonderful it was to have him close to her. It was scandalous really, and more than a little worrying.
“Where are we going?” Rose whispered.
“This way,” Barnaby replied. He pointed to the edge of the woods and a low stone wall which ran along the edge of what she presumed was a field.
Rose hesitated. She had no idea how someone who didn’t know the area knew where he should go but Barnaby did. If she lagged behind, or objected, she knew he could vanish into the woods and abandon her if he wanted to. He didn’t have to help her. He didn’t even have to be there, especially half naked as he was. But he was. He was risking life and limb to keep her out of Chadwick’s clutches. Given that he had also witnessed the murder of those two men in the yard, she had to wonder why he was going to so much time and effort to take her to London. He was just as much of a witness as she was. Of course, he hadn’t mentioned that. Tucking that thought into the far recesses of her mind to cogitate over later, Rose forcibly kept her attention on staying alive.