Page 110 of The Scot Who Loved Me

“It is. The man tried to shoot me.” He was casual, telling one lie and telling one truth.

The younger Night Watchman glowered at him. “So you knifed him in the back?”

Will jerked his chin at the flintlock by the log. “I wasna about to give him a chance to reload and try again. Would you?”

The younger man clamped his mouth shut, and the older man stepped in.

“What about those men there? By my count, I see three dead bodies, a warehouse that was ablaze, but thanks to the good people of Southwark, the fire is out. What say you, sir? Sign on the front says, Neville Warehouse. Are you Mr. Neville?”

He wiped his ear and found sticky blood on the back of his hand. “No, but I wish I had been.”

To which the Night Watch hauled him to Marshalsea and put him in chains.

Mr. Baines walked her to Cecelia’s home on Swan Lane. He pounded thrice on the door of the pretty two-story stone house with a pot of flowers on the front step. Mr. Baines was about to knock again when the door opened. Cecelia’s yawning maid-cum–household servant answered.

“Yes?” Her sleepy eyes rounded when she saw Anne. “Mrs. Neville? What happened?”

“I... I need to see Cecelia. Is she home?” One could never be certain with Cecelia MacDonald.

“Of course, ma’am. Come in, come in.”

Anne crossed the threshold, more collected than when she’d left her warehouse. She had Mr. Baines to thank for that. He’d poured reason intoher ear, urging her into his wherry and taking her across the river. True to his word, the young man delivered her directly to Cecelia’s door.

“Thank you, Henry. I will never forget this.”

His chin ducked and his smile was bashful. Addressing him by his Christian name seemed appropriate after he’d fought to save her warehouse and her life. He’d been a faithful part of her life for... was it four years now?

She dove into his arms and hugged him, which sent a blush as bright red as his wherry across his cheeks. He hugged her back.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he mumbled. “I have to get back to my wherry, ma’am.”

“Which is exactly why you are wonderful, Mr. Baines. You left your livelihood to help me.”

He set his hat on his head, grinning from her praise. They parted and she watched him walk down the lane.

“What a surprising sight,” Cecelia said behind her in a sleepy voice. “You hugging Mr. Baines like a long-lost relative, smelling of smoke, and dressed the same as you were last night.”

She turned and shut the front door. Cecelia peered at her.

“You still have your earrings on too?”

Her hand shot up to confirm that yes, her garnet earbobs were still in place. Both of them. She breathed the confusion that was her life, glad for the sameness of her grandmother’s earrings. Cecelia finished descending her stairs, a vision in white linen. She hadn’t bothered with a robe of any kind, thus her merits were indirectly on display.

“I’m disappointed. I expected Will to remove every stitch of clothing from your person.” Blonde brows arched prettily. “Are you telling me, youdidn’t...”

“Oh yes, we did.” Eyes closing, her spine hit the door. “It was glorious.”

“Then why are you in my house smelling of smoke?”

“Because the countess sent men to the warehouse. There was a fire, three men are dead, and the Night Watch hauled Will away. I saw that from the river.”

“You’ve had quite a morning. Something tells meThe Grosvenorwill depart the City without you.”

Anne groaned. “I can’t leave without Will. I won’t leave without him.” She covered her mouth to smother a howl that wanted out. “I should’ve stayed with him.”

Cecelia rushed forward and grabbed Anne’s arms. “No, you should not have.”

“But... Will...”