Page 5

I f there was a greater hell than seeing a beautiful woman cry, Shay didn’t know of it. Thea was different than any women he’d ever met in the ballrooms of London. She had lived a difficult life. She was educated in the harshness of the world. Yet, she’d found a path to take care of herself not many women of the ton would be strong enough to forge.

Seeing her break from his words, forced him to act in a way he never would with an unchaperoned woman. He took the necessary steps to stand in front of her and pulled her close. He wrapped his large arms around her thin, heaving body and stroked his hand over her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Either for his words or for her pain. He would allow her to choose. She only seemed to cry harder, but he didn’t think it was because of him. This formidable woman had been carrying such a weight on her slim shoulders and she needed to weep, to cleanse her soul of this darkness.

He knew it in a way only a person who had done such a thing would know. And he had broken down and cried away his own guilt, many times over the years.

Eventually, her sobs slowed and she managed to catch her breath. He let go of her only to reach into his pocket to fetch his handkerchief. This kind of crying left one a mess. But he hoped she felt better for it.

“I apologize,” she said. “I’ve made a mess of your home as well as your shirt.”

“Neither are beyond repair.”

He looked about the room at the pages laid out to dry on their own. She must write too fast to sand them properly and stack them as she went. He recalled the speed with which she had been writing when he’d arrived. If she’d finished half the book in the time she’d been here, it would not take her long at all to finish the other half.

He would likely have a new Stonecliff novel in his hands by winter. He enjoyed sitting by the fire with a glass of whisky, reading late into the night as the snow stacked up outside. After his years of being cold and hungry, he made sure he never suffered either offense ever again.

Thea stepped away, not looking at him. She was likely embarrassed but he didn’t judge her for her emotions. When a person carried around such tension for too long it didn’t take much for the last pebble to break them down.

“I’m sorry for my display. I would blame you, but since you were also the source of comfort, doing so seems uncharitable.”

He laughed, which was what she’d clearly intended to ease the moment.

“I’ll sound like a boor to admit it, but I’m glad to have been able to do both.”

“You’re glad to have made a woman cry? That is quite boorish.”

“I’m glad to have given you the safety to alleviate your burden. Sometimes it is necessary to tear something down before rebuilding it stronger, aye?”

Only one side of her mouth raised before she nodded and answered, “Aye.” Saying the Scottish word seemed to amuse her for the smile filled in completely.

“Thank you for making me cry.” She took a deep breath and began stacking pages after testing them to see if the ink was set. “I’ll be out of here within the hour.”

The thought of her leaving sent an unsettling chill through his body. He didn’t like the idea of her out there where someone might hurt her or take advantage of her situation.

“I would like you to stay on as my guest,” he admitted before his mind had told his mouth to speak.

She paused and turned back to him. This time she set her red-rimmed brown eyes on him. She tilted her head and stepped closer.

“You would allow me to pay you to stay here and finish my book?”

He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Aye. But I’ll not take your money. You will pay me with something else. Something quite dear indeed.”

*

Thea stepped back from the large Scot. Had she run all this way to be in the exact same position she’d tried to escape? It seemed like just her luck that this man would expect to be paid with her virtue.

It was all the more frustrating after he’d seemed so understanding. And after he’d held her as she’d cried. But of course, that must have been it. She’d allowed him to hold her so close to his body.

It had felt wonderful. He was so warm and big. He smelled like sunshine, grass, and horses. And the way he’d moved his hand along her back in a slow circle seemed to release every bit of tension in her body.

But it must have riled his own interests. For now he planned to use her situation to his advantage. Well, he would be sorely disappointed.

She had continued stepping backward until she bumped into the edge of the desk. It was an easy thing to reach back and grasp the letter opener for she knew exactly where it had been lying on the desk.

With the weapon clenched in her trembling fingers she let her arm fall to her side so he wouldn’t see she was armed. She’d learned a lot about fighting as research for her books. But, until now, she’d never been forced to call the knowledge to action. She knew from her studies that surprise could be as much a weapon as the blade itself.

“I’m not interested in such an arrangement,” she said sternly even though her knees were near to knocking.

“How can you be sure? I haven’t even told you what it is I want.”

She shook her head. “I understand, and it won’t happen. Just allow me to leave. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Trouble?” he repeated.

She watched the man intently so she’d be ready for his attack. When he’d first arrived she’d noticed the deep blue of his eyes, and how black his hair was. Like a moonless night.

She’d thought him a handsome groom in just his shirtsleeves. His shoulders were broad, and he was bigger than normal men. How would she fight him?

Because as she was staring at him she was able to see a number of expressions cross over his face.

Confusion when she’d said the word, “trouble.”

Followed by awareness and then shock.

“Good God in heaven, ye think I wish to—?” He cut himself off with a string of curses. Some in English, some in what she guessed was Gaelic. And while she didn’t speak the language, she could tell they were curses. “Please. Hear me out. I don’t wish for you to pay for your board with any part of your body.” He shrugged. “Well, mayhap your mind. I want to read your new book. I want to be the first person to read The Case of the Golden Feather before it goes to the printer. And for that, I will allow you to stay here and finish your book. I’ll even offer my assistance in helping you find a new home when the time comes, so your man doesn’t need to come all this way to handle the transaction.”

She relaxed so much the letter opener clattered to the stone floor.

He looked down at it and then back to her.

“Did you plan to stab me with that?” he asked.

“I would have done what I had to in order to protect myself.”

“You’re quite canny, you are,” he said with a grin and Thea decided to take that as a compliment.

“Thank you.”

“Do you agree to my terms?”

She bit her lip as she considered allowing him to read her book in its current state. Eventually she would go through it all again and note any errors in red ink made from Brazilwood and alum.

Why should she care if it were not perfect since he was using her situation to his own gain. Still she didn’t think he would withdraw his offer if she refused.

“Very well. But know it will not be in its finished state.”

He nodded. “Even better. It will be your raw thoughts on the page.”

“And you’ll allow me to stay here until I have the funds to purchase my own place? And help me procure it.”

“Aye. Ye should know that if I’m seen buying a lady a dwelling near my castle, some might think you to be my mistress, being housed close to my estate for my needs.”

She hadn’t considered it, because such a thing seemed preposterous. But even still, she had no need for a pristine reputation. She never planned to wed. Any dreams she’d had of doing so had turned to dust when she’d been seventeen and her parents had died.

She’d come out of mourning the following year, planning to attend the Season, and find a husband. But her brother had already squandered her dowry and put them on the path to disaster.

“I don’t care about gossip. I only wish to have privacy and safety to write my books. It is all I can hope for.”

He tilted his head in that way that was already becoming common to her. He did it before he was set to ask a question.

“Why are you not already wed, Thea?”

She frowned and explained the situation, what had happened to her dowry.

“Your brother has much to answer for.”

Yes, Stephen was in debt in every sense of the word. Still…

“It’s true he’s not been a good brother, but I don’t like that he must pay for his debts with his life.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Flint would not be likely to kill him straight out. It’s not as if a dead man has any hope of paying down his debt. He will probably be put to working it off.”

“I can’t say if that makes me feel better. I’ll have to let you know.” There was something fitting about Stephen having to work. But she surely didn’t want to know the details of what kind of work he would be made to do.

“So we have an agreement?” he asked as he moved toward the door.

“On one condition,” she said, though she knew well enough she wasn’t at liberty to make demands. Where else would she go?

“And that is?”

“My pages do not leave this house or my sight. If you wish to read the book, you may. But you must do it here.” There was too much at stake to risk losing any bit of her work. She didn’t have the luxury of time to rewrite something if it turned up missing or damaged.

While it meant having his company in her space, she couldn’t chance it. Besides, she secretly hoped having to come all this way to read her scribblings might dissuade him from reading it at all.

He simply looked about the room and gave a nod.

“Very well, I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Stonecliff,” he said with a wink.

Thea couldn’t help but notice the way her stomach gave a small flutter at knowing she would see him again the next day. She’d never felt such a silly thing before. Surely it didn’t bode well.