The Artist and the Rake (The Merry Misfits of Bath 4)

Marcus tightened his grip on her and pulled her back. “Let’s find an inn where we can spend the night.”

“No!”

She tried to wrestle herself away from his arms, but he held on tight. “Come on, my love.” He could feel all her muscles tense under his hands. “Come. They have work to do.”

Just then a carriage came barreling onto the docks with Nick driving. He pulled on the horses’ reins and jumped down to address the Inspector. “Mr. Joey Barton is inside the carriage. He might be asleep.” He shrugged. “Or knocked out. Maybe dead. I’m not sure.” He placed his hands on his hips and nodded at Lizbeth. “Welcome back, Miss Davenport.”

“Thank you.”

The inspector spoke to Pemberton, and then left to join the others. Pemberton opened the door of the carriage and dragged an unconscious—or maybe dead—Joey Barton out.

Nick smiled when the man’s head hit the ground. “I’m headed home. I don’t want to leave my wife alone too long. She likes to get into trouble herself.”

Marcus stuck his hand out and they shook. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Anything for a friend.” He winked at Lizbeth, who looked around.

“Where is your horse?”

Nick walked to the back of the carriage. “Tied back here. I’m going to the train station first to see if there is a train leaving shortly with an animal transport car to keep from having the poor animal ride to Bath with me on his back.”

Nick untied the horse, mounted it, and with a slight salute, left Marcus and Lizbeth staring after him. “He is such a wonderful man. I am so glad things worked out for him and Pamela,” Lizbeth sighed.

Marcus walked her to his horse and tossed her onto its back. He climbed up after her and surrounded her with his arms, thanking God that he got to her in time.

They found a respectable place to spend the night, and Lizbeth didn’t protest when he asked for one room. She appeared so weary he wondered if she even realized what he had done.

He requested a hot bath be sent up for her and he made his way to the dining room to order food he would carry himself to their room when she was through with her bath. In the meantime, he spent time at a small table in the dining room, nursing a glass of brandy, watching the front door to make sure no one entered whose look he didn’t like.

Going over the events of the night, he decided if he had to tie their wrists together, he would make sure no one ever touched Lizbeth again.

After about another half hour the innkeeper’s wife approached his table to tell him Lizbeth had finished her bath. He retrieved the food from the dining room and hurried upstairs.

Lizbeth sat in the middle of the bed, fully dressed. He placed the food on a small table and moved to the bed, sitting alongside her. “I don’t want you to be disturbed by us being in the same room. I signed us as a married couple, so there will be no question, and all I want to do is lie alongside you and hold you. Nothing else.”

She nodded. “I trust you.”

You probably trust me more than I trust myself right now.

They finished their meal and climbed into bed. He considered it might not be such a long night for him, sleeping right next to Lizbeth, because he was so tired. Once they were settled, and the blanket was up to their necks, he pulled her against him, and she wiggled her lovely bottom into his warmth and sighed in contentment. His eyes popped open and every nerve in his body screamed.

Wrong. It was going to be a very, very long night.

Lizbeth turned from the window as Pamela, Addie and Lottie all barged into her bedchamber. “We came to help dress the bride!” Addie said.

It was two weeks after the last attempt to kidnap her. With everything that had happened, Lizbeth did not want a big wedding. Just close friends and family, which Marcus agreed to. They’d spent some time alone, but he was always respectful of her reluctance to engage in anything beyond kissing.

She hoped that in time her fears would fade since Marcus deserved better than what she was comfortable with.

“It is so nice of you to lend me a gown, Addie.” They never made the modiste appointment and with the rushed wedding there had been no time for a new gown. Instead, many of Addie’s pieces had been altered to fit Lizbeth for their wedding trip, with a promise from Marcus that she would have a new, complete wardrobe upon their return.

“Not a loan, as I’ve said. Since my little darling, Judith was born, I cannot fit into anything. Grayson has given me leave to order as much as I want.” She lowered her voice and looked at the other women. “Men feel so dreadfully guilty after the babe is born, what with all the suffering they hear, that they are more th

an happy to give you anything you want.” She winked.

They all laughed, and Pamela placed her hand on her growing belly, as did Lottie, who was much closer to having Carter shower her with ‘grateful’ gifts than Pamela.

“Here we are, Lizbeth,” Addie said as she held up a beautiful pale rose gown.