Page 13

Eleven

Sandy

“Will you not at least kiss me goodbye then?” Sandy asked, his voice thick and his eyes burning. He was panicked and he was numb; he was furious and he was frozen with hurt.

He was everything and nothing all at once, and it was this horrible highwayman’s fault.

“You will cheat and pull me off my horse if I lean down to kiss you,” said Peregrine with a fond smile.

“Of course I will,” Sandy managed to huff. His throat ached so much he couldn’t stand it. “You can’t mean to leave me here, can you? You can’t mean to ride off in the dark and not stay?”

“Think of it as your escape,” Peregrine told him. His voice was gentle. “You’ve escaped me now. You’re free.”

“Goddammit, Peregrine, you cannot just leave me like this!” Sandy said furiously, another tear tracking down his cheek. He realized, distantly, that it was the first time he’d cried all week. Even being kidnapped, threatened with death, and used as a pawn against his brother hadn’t made him cry. But this—Peregrine just leaving him here when he needed him most?—

When Peregrine didn’t answer, Sandy asked desperately, “But I will see you again, right? Soon? When everything is settled?”

He took a step toward Peregrine’s horse right as a shadow passed behind a nearby window. They’d been heard, and soon someone would be at the door to investigate. Peregrine sighed as Sandy reached out to put a hand on the highwayman’s thigh. It was firm and unyielding, like the man it belonged to. Sandy wished he had the strength to drag Peregrine from his horse. He wished he were strong enough to abduct Peregrine as Peregrine had abducted him.

It couldn’t be that he’d spent years chasing the hope of something solid and real, only to find it and then lose it within a matter of days. It made no sense, practically or cosmically. Sandy was Lord Alexander Dartham, and he could do almost anything he wanted. And if the worst happened and he was made the duke, the only consolation to such a horror would be the power to have the lover he wanted in his bed.

No, he wouldn’t stand for this. He couldn’t. If he didn’t have this highwayman with him, then he wouldn’t survive whatever came next, and he wouldn’t want to, and?—

Peregrine’s hand came over his. It was cold, since he’d ridden without gloves, but it was so big and so strong. It completely covered Sandy’s hand and pinned it hard to the warm thigh underneath.

“Yes, Alexander.” Peregrine’s voice was low and rough, but steady as stone. “You’ll see me again once everything is settled.”

Sandy looked up into the thief’s eyes, which glittered with the light from Far Hope. “You swear?” Sandy whispered.

Peregrine gave Sandy’s hand a hard, long squeeze. “I swear. Now go, fast. Your brother needs you.”

Sandy drank him in with one last glance and then left with an abrupt motion, tearing himself away with all the willpower he had. He had to go to his brother; he had to face whatever fate awaited him.

All he could do was hope that this was not the last he’d seen of Peregrine Hind.