“You drugged me.” Her voice was slurred.
With sleep or her swollen face. Or the opium.
“You needed rest. It was only a drop of laudanum.” More than that. But he’d had no idea how else to grant her the blessing of rest.
“Don’t do it again,” she spat out, sounding more alert by the second. Her remarkable eyes cleared to a deep green, flecked with scattered gold like broken sunlight. Her eyes were the only trace of beauty in her battered face.
He bent his head in acknowledgment. “I won’t.” He paused. “How do you feel?”
Her lips quirked, then she winced as the smile tested her torn lip. Nonetheless, her voice held a trace of dry humor. “Like a mule has kicked me. A big angry mule.”
She confronted her fate with her head held high. No whining or cowering. Her spirit took his breath away. Made him want more than he had a right to ask.
As she’d said, they were chance-met strangers. Useless to rage against inevitable fate. She was not for him. She could never be for him. No woman could be.
He’d faced that damnable truth months ago.
He hoped she didn’t hear the betraying roughness in his voice when he forced a dry reply. “You’re feeling much better, then?”
She gave a choked giggle at his attempt at a joke and raised one hand to her bruised cheek. “It hurts to laugh.”
“I’m sure it does.” Only the bravest woman would laugh in such circumstances.
“Where does your aunt live, Miss Watson?” Akash asked.
His friend had cast him a searching look and now concentrated on the girl. Heat crawled up the back of Gideon’s neck as he realized Akash must guess his admiration for Miss Watson. And Akash would pity him, which stung Gideon’s pride like acid.
The lilt faded from the girl’s voice, and she sounded stiff as she always did when she lied. “Not far. If you drop me in the center of town, I can find my own way. I’ve imposed enough.”
Gideon’s lips crooked in grim amusement as she avoided his eyes. “We cannot abandon a lady to her own devices.”
She looked down to where her uninjured hand fisted in her lap. Her discomfort was palpable. “My…my aunt is a maiden lady of reclusive habits. It would frighten her if I arrived on her doorstep in the company of three unknown gentlemen.”
“And she’d be perfectly undisturbed to see you arrive hurt, ragged, and alone?”
She cast him a resentful glance under her thick gold-tipped lashes. “When I explain, she’ll understand.”
The carriage pulled, as arranged during the night, into Portsmouth’s best inn. The girl’s hands tightened until the knuckles shone white. “Where are we?”
“We’re changing horses and stopping for breakfast. After that, Akash and I will escort you to your aunt’s.”
“No.”
“No to breakfast or no to our company?”
She had the grace to look a little shamefaced at her bald reply. “I must admit breakfast appeals.”
He guessed she meant to take advantage of one last meal before escaping. It was what he’d do if destitute and in danger. “Breakfast it is,” he said neutrally.
The carriage stopped. Akash turned to her. “I’ll carry you in.”
The girl’s eyes darted to meet Gideon’s. He had the oddest feeling she wanted him to volunteer. He was such a poor specimen that even this simple service was beyond him. Clenching his hands, he told himself he’d long ago come to terms with bleak reality. Today, consigning this wonderful girl to someone else’s arms, that sounded more than ever like a hollow lie.
“Thank you, but I can walk.”
“Your injuries will attract less attention if I carry you.” Akash said, closely watching the interplay between them.
“It will be better this way, Miss Watson,” Gideon said.