Days of Gold (Edilean 2) - Page 33

When he tied the strings at the bottom, she looked at him and his eyes had that look of teasing that she was beginning to know well. “You’re a dreadful man, you know that?”

He went back to the other side of the bed, picked up the waistcoat, and put it on while Edilean stepped into her dress. Yesterday she’d done her best to clean it of the sawdust, but she could still see that it wasn’t at its best. She hoped that there was a wardrobe full of clothes on board the ship. She knew she’d have to take the dresses in, at least in the bustline, but she could do it.

When she was dressed and her hair smoothed back, she went to Angus. He was leaning against the bedpost, his eyes closed, and his vest buttoned crookedly.

“Come on now, wake up,” she said as she unfastened his vest, and buttoned it straight.

“I had a dream about you,” he said softly, looking at her in the candlelight and the pink dawn that was coming through the window.

“Was it a good dream?” she asked as she held up James’s coat for him to put on.

“The best. You and I were together in a field. I could see it all clearly. It wasn’t Scotland, but a place that I’d never seen before.”

“Maybe it was America.”

“Aye,” he said gently, and reached out to touch her hair. They stood there for a moment looking into each other’s eyes and she swayed toward him. “When we get to America I’ll give you some of my gold and you can—” She broke off at the look he gave her.

“Ever even mention such a thing to me again, lass, and I’ll have no more to do with ye.”

She could tell by the anger in his eyes how much he meant his words. She started to apologize, but in the next moment a ray of sunlight came into the room and her opportunity was gone.

“We must go!” Angus said.

He grabbed James’s boots in one hand, and her hand with his other, while she snatched the bundle of shaving and sewing gear.

They ran down the stairs, Edilean trailing behind him, never letting go of his hand. When they got to the room, they had just shut the door behind them and were standing there breathless when the landlord pounded on the door. “Your carriage is here!” he shouted, seeming not to be concerned that he might wake his other guests.

Angus left the room, Edilean behind him, but when she saw the coachman standing in the doorway, she ran back into the room, closed the bed curtains, then told the coachman to get the trunk in the corner, and not to wake her sleeping sister. Edilean made sure Angus didn’t hear her do this, as she knew he wouldn’t like it. She was taking the woman’s clothes. But Edilean didn’t know what had been put on the ship. She didn’t want to spend the several weeks of the voyage in only one gown.

Outside the inn a beautiful hired carriage with four prancing horses was waiting for them. “James spares no expense for himself, does he?” Edilean said in sarcasm.

“Do you think we might get something to eat before we go?” Angus asked as he tried to move his arms in the tight jacket.

“Do you ever think of anything besides food and sleep?” Edilean snapped at him.

“Aye, I do,” Angus said slowly, “but not when I’m with a woman who’s as ill tempered as you are. Did I tie your laces too tight?”

She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m just nervous, is all. I know my uncle knows who James is from the letter he stole from me and he—”

“Did you tell Harcourt this?”

“Yes,” Edilean said. “When I wrote James the second time I told him everything, but my uncle could have made some inquiries to find out about James having booked passage on the ship. He could—”

She didn’t say any more because the coach suddenly came to a stop and she heard men shouting.

“Say nothing,” Angus said. “I will deal with this.”

“You? But—” She broke off at a look from him.

The door to the carriage was thrown open and two rough-looking men peered inside. Angus didn’t mo

ve, just stayed leaning back against the seat, seeming to pluck a bit of lint off his cuff.

“Have you seen this man?” one of the men said as he held up the picture of Angus.

“I should think not,” Angus said, barely glancing at the handbill. “I would have shouted for help if I’d seen such a ruffian.”

On the seat across from him, Edilean’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Angus’s normally thick Scottish burr was gone, and he sounded as though he’d been raised in the salons of London.

Tags: Jude Deveraux Edilean Romance
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