Page 58 of The Rogue’s Embrace

"I was thinking a fire eater today."

Toren took an inordinate amount of joy in watching the twins' blue eyes grow wide.

Josalyn hopped in her chair. "A fire eater? What is that, Uncle Toren?"

Half of his face lifted in a grin as he leaned to his right toward her along the small round breakfast table. "I am not entirely sure, Josalyn. I have only heard of them—I have never seen one. But presumably, a fire eater eats fire."

"But however do they do that? Is it a dragon?"

Mary asked from across the table.

"I imagine he opens his mouth and in goes the fire."

He shifted to the left to lean toward Mary, mocking big, smacking bites with his mouth. "And then he chomps it down."

Mary giggled. "Oh, yes, please. Let us do that today, Uncle Toren."

A hesitant smile on her face, Adalia set her fork down along the edge of her plate. "Where have you produced a fire eater from?"

Toren looked to her as he sat straight in his chair. "There is a gypsy troop that is traveling through Dellington. The fire eater is their main performer. And now that the rain of the past week has let up, they plan to perform today."

Adalia's look flickered to Josalyn and Mary, her eyebrows drawing together as her gaze landed on him. "In Dellington? Do you think that wise?"

Toren knew exactly where Adalia's mind was spinning. For as much as his wife lauded the necessity of passion and anger and joy as the meaning to life, none of those things extended to the girls if there was the slightest modicum of danger afoot.

But he had gotten her to agree to let the girls learn to ride in the past fortnight. That had been a monumental feat in itself. Both Josalyn and Mary had been quick learners on their ponies, and were already quite steady on their sidesaddles.

He glanced at each twin. They stared at him, eyes pleading. He met Adalia's hard gaze. Using the twins against her was questionable, but he was not above it. "I do think it wise. I think we have two boisterous squirrels that are dressed up as little girls that need to get beyond the borders of this castle before they explode."

"Yes. Oh yes, me,"

Josalyn chimed in, her head bobbing up and down. "I am a squirrel, Auntie Ada. I need to go. I truly do."

"Yes, me as well."

Mary put her fingers to her mouth, nibbling at an imaginary acorn, giggling. "A crazy squirrel I am, and I need to scurry about."

Adalia laughed. The smile stayed on her mouth, but her green eyes held worry as she looked at him. "You are positive it will be safe?"

"Yes. Not a soul knows you and the girls are even here at Dellon Castle. And there has been no indication from London of anything out of the ordinary. Other than your friends, no one has been beating down the door at the Alton townhouse, looking for you. Your butler has been assuring everyone inquiring about you that you have retired to Glenhaven House in Derbyshire."

His fingers tapped on the white linen cloth atop the table. "All that is aside from the fact that I will have an appropriate number of men with us in Dellington."

She wanted to resist, he could see that. But then her look drifted down to the twins. Their pleading blue eyes were all it took.

She sighed. "Fine. Fire eater it is."

The fire eater wasn't a him, at all. It was a she.

And she was magnificent. Ball of flame after ball of flame, she ate fire from a long stick—most impressive, as long as one ignored the patches of her scalp by her temple where hair had been scorched off.

The rest of her long, dark hair pulled back in rows of tight braids, she danced and swung and ate fire for an hour with the twins enraptured every single one of those minutes.

Walking away from the gathering at the edge of the village where the gypsies had set up camp, the girls bounced along between Toren and Adalia, their cheeks flush with excitement.

Closest to Toren, Mary grabbed his hand, tugging on it. "Uncle Toren, how does someone learn to do that—swallow the fire?"

He shrugged, looking down at her, reflecting her wide smile. "Travel with a gypsy troop and apprentice it, I imagine."

"Do not put ideas into their heads, Toren."

Adalia's sharp tone made him look at her above the twins' heads.

"But it does sound like a wonderful adventure, Auntie Ada,"

Josalyn said. "To travel and eat fire in front of all those people—can you just imagine the fun—a true adventure."

Adalia shot him a scathing see-what-you've-done look, and then glanced to Josalyn, nodding. "A great adventure, indeed. The lands and the people you would meet. But you would also have to sleep in that tiny wagon. Did you see that behind the fire eater? I do not imagine it is nearly as comfortable as your big bed."

"I could be happy in a wagon, Auntie Ada."

"I am sure you could be, Josalyn. But you are still too young for such adventures. You must remember to bring this topic up again when you are sixteen. Maybe then we can consider fire eating as a possible course for you."

"Me too, Auntie Ada, me too,"

Mary chimed in.

"Of course, sweetheart."

Adalia's arm went around Josalyn, squeezing her to her side. "But until then, you are sticking close to my side, for I could not bear to be without you two, agreed?"

"Yes, Auntie Ada."

Both girls sang out their agreement.

Toren watched her profile as she chatted with the girls. The smile came so incredibly easy to her face—especially when she was with the girls.

But he knew how to make his wife smile in his own way. And he had found himself unwilling to go without her in the past weeks. Ever since the argument in the stables, night after night, he found he could not deny himself her body.

Every night, his body started aching for hers before the sun disappeared from the sky. The anticipation of her skin bristling under his fingertips and the soft moans vibrating from her chest had driven him to distraction night after night.

Having a wife was far more beneficial than he would have ever guessed.

A rogue tendril of hair fell from her upsweep to tickle her cheek, and she brushed it aside, her green eyes catching him.

Her lips parted, her hand going to her throat.

"Parched?"

"I have been since we started watching the fire eater."

She shivered. "Just watching her I was smacking my tongue."

Toren chuckled, looking ahead on the main road into the village. Some villagers had set up makeshift booths, capitalizing on the opportunity of more people traveling through to the area to see the show.

He pointed ahead to a robust woman hauling a heavy pot to a ledge. "There, I can find lemonade for the girls, as well as something for us before we move back for the puppet show and then maybe we can visit the fortune teller."

The girls squealed in agreement.

Adalia looked ahead, her fingers going above her brow to shield her eyes from the sun. "Perfect."

She looked around, her eyes landing on a shaded, grassy knoll aside the milliner's shop. "I do regret forgetting a parasol. Shall we come with you, or can we wait in the shade?"

"I believe I can manage the feat."

He loosened his hold on Mary's hand, and she ran around to Adalia's free hand, grabbing it before they veered off to the left.

Minutes later, Toren had procured three goblets, two of lemonade and one of ale, balancing them in his hands as he was looking at the selection of hot pies. The girls would be hungry soon—as was he.

A scream, muffled, floated through the air, not enough to give anyone around him pause. But it rang like a bell in his head. Adalia.

Dropping the goblets to the ground, he tore up the main road, whipping around the corner of the milliner's shop to the grassy knoll. Empty.

His eyes frantic, a breath passed before he saw the edge of a skirt fly through the air behind the building.

Sprinting up the hill and around the back of the shop, he found Adalia wildly swinging a knife. The knife landed, cutting into the upper arm of a blackguard that had Josalyn tucked under his arm, the girl kicking and screaming.

The knife hitting flesh wrecked her momentum and made Adalia stumble. Seizing the second, the man swung, smacking Adalia brutally across the cheek.

It sent her flying to her knees, the knife spilling from her hand.

Mary. Where was Mary?

Toren spotted her in the next instant, cowering around the far corner of the building, watching—terrified, yet not willing to run from her sister.

Without another breath, Toren attacked, snatching the bastard's arm and twisting it behind his back before the man even saw him coming.

Snap.

An insane fury took a hold of his body, and the crack of the man's bone spurred Toren to twist it even further.

The blackguard wailed, dropping Josalyn to the ground as he tried to free himself from Toren.

Toren would have none of it, twisting harder, shoving the man to his knees, inflicting as much pain as he possibly could.

Yet it wasn't enough.

He went for the man's throat.

"Your grace, we have this."

His fingers wrapped around the man's neck, squeezing.

"Your grace. Your grace."

Words he barely heard, muffled and miles away.

He squeezed harder.

Tugging, someone tugging him away.

No. Someone yanking him away.

"Your grace."

The yell in his ear made Toren pause.

He looked up over his shoulder only to see they were surrounded by four of his men, one of them pulling him away from the bastard that had grabbed Josalyn.

Where the hell had they been a minute ago?

His hands flew wide, fingers stretching straight as he shoved off from the bastard.

Toren jumped to his feet, kicking the man in the ribcage as he went past him. "Get this filth to the gamekeeper's cottage."

Two of his men picked up the blackguard, dragging him with no kindness past the next building and out of sight.

Adalia had crawled across the ground, grasping a sobbing Josalyn into her arms, shielding her from everything, whispering in her ear as her hand stroked the girl's blond head.

Toren ran to Mary, picking her up and balancing her on his side, her arms tight around his neck. He moved to Adalia, stopping in front of her.

"We need to leave."

She looked up at him, terror etched in her face. "You…you said we were safe."

"I was wrong."