Captive of Sin

Felix gestured Hubert toward Gideon. “She’ll leave unharmed, all right. But only when we’ve got you trussed nice and tight.”

Charis waited for Gideon to object, but he merely said, “Let me give Lady Charis my coat. The weather’s about to break.”

Felix nodded briefly. “No tricks. I can hurt you without killing you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gideon said dryly.

He released Charis and quickly divested himself of his coat. As he dropped it over her shoulders, it swamped her. Immediate warmth surrounded her. And Gideon’s scent. Such an absurd thing to bolster her unsteady resolve.

Gideon brushed one gloved finger across her cheek and smiled. “It’s like old times.”

Her skin tingled under his touch. His words reminded her they shared a history of danger and survival. She wished she could draw comfort from the fact. “Be careful, Gideon,” she whispered, her throat thick with anxiety and love.

He stepped past her. Charis bit back a protest as Hubert grabbed Gideon’s hands and roughly wrenched them behind his back. Her husband stood stiffly, but he presented no resistance. Could the touch of Hubert’s hand spark an attack? Please, no.

How could Gideon bear this? He must know what the brothers had in store. His unflinching bravery threatened her fragile control. Her belly knotted with sick anguish. He gave himself over to torment for her sake. She felt like she pushed him back into the pit in Rangapindhi with her own hands.

When Gideon looked at her, he must have read her faltering purpose. “Put the coat on properly. You’ve go

t some tough riding ahead.” He sounded as if he sent her off on a morning’s canter. She remembered she owed it to him to reach Penrhyn and save him. No matter how she wanted to scream and cry against what happened now.

She stiffened her spine. Her gaze clung to his face as she memorized every beloved feature. His burning eyes, the proud blade of his nose, his passionate mouth, taut with controlled anger. Beneath his composure, she knew he was fuming. She wanted him to stay furious. The fierce emotion might keep his ghosts at bay.

“Good-bye, my love,” she said huskily.

He stared back. “Godspeed, Charis.”

“Come on.” Felix snapped, snatching her arm. His touch bruised, even through the thick woolen sleeve. “All hell’s about to break loose.”

“Let her go,” Gideon said in a low, dangerous tone.

For all that the brothers were armed and Gideon was bound, Felix’s hand automatically dropped away from her. Charis sent Gideon a grateful glance, then picked up her skirts and followed Felix.

There was nothing more she could do for Gideon here. Pray heaven, she could help him once she was free.

In spite of her urgency to reach Penrhyn, Charis took one last lingering look at her husband as she climbed the steep bank to bypass the fallen tree. Dwarfing Hubert, he stood tall and proud and undefeated. No trace of fear or weakness showed in his set features.

Stay safe, my love. Stay safe until I come for you.

She sent him a burning glance, a message to be strong, a promise to save him as he’d saved her so often. Then she dropped below the tree’s branches, and he disappeared from view.

Two horses were tethered in the underbrush. Neither with a sidesaddle. She hadn’t ridden astride since she was a girl at Marley Place. It would be difficult in skirts and on a mount she didn’t know. Especially in weather that intensified with every second.

The rain fell in sheets now. Felix was soaked through, and Charis shivered as freezing water trickled down her neck. Her bonnet was a useless, sodden mess. With shaking hands, she ripped at the ribbons and tugged it off.

“How will you know when the papers are ready?” she asked in a frigid voice. If Gideon could be strong, so could she.

“I’ll send a message.” Felix grabbed one of the horses and hauled it into the open. The stocky bay snorted and fought at leaving the shelter of the trees. “Let me give you a hand up.”

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

“Suit yourself, my lady.” He presented the reins with an ironic gesture.

Snatching them out of his hand, she spoke soothingly to the nervous animal. She scrambled onto its back, swathing the greatcoat around her. The storm was bad enough in this hollow. She dreaded to think what she’d face on the open moor.

The horse curveted at having a rider, but Charis quickly brought it under control. She glared through the downpour at Felix. “If you hurt my husband, I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”

Felix gave a harsh laugh. “You always were an unnatural chit. Once I get the money, I have no further interest in either of you. Although I’ll wager Trevithick will curse the day he tangled with the Earl of Marley’s termagant daughter.”