Charming the Elusive Earl (Charmed By Chance #2)

Chapter 4

4

C learly he’d heard her wrong.

He backed up a step, as if a change of perspective might help him make sense of what she’d just said, because surely she didn’t mean?—

But as he drew further away from her, he saw it. The way her shoulders lowered slightly, the way she let out a quiet sigh…

Of relief.

Because he was moving away from her.

Because…he’d frightened her.

His chest constricted with a horrifying ache. He’d frightened her. His gentle, quiet, delicate fiancée.

The thought was unbearable.

He swallowed hard, fighting the sensation that his entire world had just been flipped upside down. It couldn’t be true. Could it? She couldn’t have run away from home in that flimsy gown and galloping at a breakneck speed, just to…to…

To get away from me.

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, his gaze still searching her as if he might find some other explanation if he looked hard enough. But she’d gone back to dipping her head, and slumping her shoulders. She looked as though she were trying to hide right there in plain sight.

Jane had always seemed fragile to him. What with her blushing and her whisper of a voice. He’d always gotten the sense that she didn’t enjoy being looked at, despite the fact that she was stunning to gaze upon. It wasn’t merely his opinion. It was fact. Even before he’d met the girl, he’d heard about her beauty.

With her fair hair, and her wide blue eyes, and delicate features, she looked like a painting. And while her stature was small, it was perfectly formed, and she carried herself with grace.

When she smiled she looked like an angel. Though, her smile always left him feeling as if she were a bit…vacant, as it were. There was a dullness to her eyes that contradicted all her aunt’s soliloquies on her quick wit.

But she wasn’t smiling now. And it wasn’t a vacant stare he saw in her eyes when she peeked up.

Good heavens. She really was afraid of him.

He cleared his throat, and then he swallowed. He had no idea how to put her at ease, and what was more…

He had questions.

So many questions.

“This is…most unexpected,” he finally said.

She stiffened, and he felt like the veriest heel. As though he’d just uttered an insult and not a benign comment on the situation.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” she whispered.

He didn’t mean to growl. It just sort of…slipped out. Because, honestly. The last thing he wanted to hear was more apologies.

But intentional or not, the sound of frustration had her cowering in on herself like he might actually strike her.

Blast! He thrust a hand through his hair.

“Please,” he said. Because he had no idea what else to say. And courtesy was never terrifying, was it?

She glanced up, at least. Confusion warring with fear and…

And maybe something else.

He found he forgot what he’d been about to say, because…

Blast it all. Those eyes. Had he ever thought them to be vacant and dull? They sparkled now, even in the ever darkening light as the storm clouds gathered overhead. They glinted with depth and emotions he didn’t know how to name.

Also, he suspected he ought to consider that all those emotions were aimed at him…

And they weren’t exactly pleasant.

There was certainly no joy to be seen, and no amusement.

In fact, he saw wariness steal over her just before her gaze dropped. She shifted from foot to foot as she waited for him to finish speaking.

Right. He had been speaking, hadn’t he?

He cleared his throat again. “I’d like to understand,” he said, as evenly as he was able.

She didn’t move, nor speak. She seemed to be doing her best imitation of a rabbit frozen in the midst of a predator. Aside from the occasional tremble, she was utterly still and silent.

But no, that wasn’t a tremble. It was a shiver.

He cursed under his breath, which, of course, only managed to make her look more spooked, if such a thing was even possible.

She was huddled beneath his coat, and so thoroughly drowning in the thick fabric, he was reminded all over again of how slight she was. How delicate.

And that above all else, it was his duty to protect her.

“Come. I will take you back home.”

She shifted, and for a moment he thought she was going along with this plan. But to his surprise, she murmured, “You are not obligated to do so, my lord.”

“Pardon?”

She tensed, as if in trouble, but truly, it was blastedly difficult to make out her words between the now howling wind and the clatter of his overactive heart.

This whole interlude had left him feeling winded.

She peeked up, and he caught a flicker of her tongue as she wet her lips. This was…distracting.

She was to be his wife, yes. So he’d allowed himself to admire her beauty. He knew himself to be attracted to her.

He wouldn’t have agreed to marry her if she’d repulsed him.

But even so, he was taken aback by the way his body heated and coiled at the minute gesture that called attention to her lush lips and left them glistening with a sheen that was entirely too tempting.

What would she taste like?

He’d never kissed her. The way she grew so small and quiet around him hardly led him to believe she’d welcome his kiss.

But now he found himself marveling at how he’d gone eight months without kissing his bride-to-be.

He was so caught up in this, that he nearly missed her next words.

“I’m certain you have places to be, my lord,” she said in that high, sweet voice of hers. “I would not wish to keep you.”

Said like they were taking tea and not standing in the woods with a storm bearing down on them.

And then, as if he’d summoned it with the thought, a drop of rain plopped down on his bare head.

Blast.

“Jane, I do have places to be, but my first priority is to see you to safety.”

She bit down on her lower lip, and he rather wished he’d left out the part about having places to be.

Her cheeks turned pink, but she nodded. As she turned toward her mare, however, the storm that had been threatening came upon them with a fierce crack of thunder that made Jane jump and her horse bolt, and Roger, it seemed, decided to follow suit.

He caught Jane by her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, it startled me, that’s all,” she said.

Or he thought that’s what she said. The sound of rain crashing on the leaves overhead nearly drowned her out. He squinted up at the sky, his mind racing.

Even if he caught up to the horses and brought them back, it would be dangerous to ride in this downpour, especially when both their horses seemed to be skittish about the thunder and?—

Crack!

Another roll of thunder was followed by a flash of lightning so close it seemed to light up the whole sky.

And here they were, surrounded by large trees that were swaying ever more violently in the wind.

No, definitely not safe.

He swung his head left and right as he did his best to shelter Jane from the rain and wind. Not terribly difficult considering she was small enough to fit neatly in his arms.

He didn’t allow himself to dally over how nice that felt, because now was most definitely not the time to notice such a thing.

Though he was aware. Very keenly aware.

Were they closer to his estate? Not by much. Her family’s stable was likely the closest place to hide out the storm, unless maybe?—

He straightened, swiping his hair and water out of his eyes to peer over Jane’s head, deeper into the thicket.

Yes. There. The old shed he used to play in as a boy. Probably falling apart for lack of use, and undoubtedly filled with cobwebs and rodents, but it would provide a roof over their heads until the worst of the storm passed.

He didn’t bother to tell Jane his plan. He’d have to shout at her to be heard over the rumbling thunder and pounding rain, and he feared one shout from him would send her running off just as surely as the booming thunder had chased off their horses.

So instead, he bent down slightly and scooped her up into his arms.

Despite the noise, he heard her gasp. He spared her only a glance before setting off toward the shed. But one glance was enough to assure him that she was well and truly horrified by his brutish actions.

But her hands clenched his shirt, and he was all too aware of the warmth of her small frame in his arms. He had the unnerving sensation he was going to crush her, but he wanted so badly to keep her safe and warm.

He hurried over broken limbs, and through thick brush. He knew the general direction he was heading, but this shed had been abandoned even when he was a boy, and he’d had no reason to visit it as an adult.

Still, it had to be around here somewhere.

“There!” Jane pointed to his right, and he ducked his head down, hoping to shield her from the whipping rain. A few more steps and they were there.

The dark gray wooden shack looked more slanted and dilapidated than he remembered. But it was upright, and had lasted this long, and so he hurried toward its front entrance and kicked the door in with a grunt.

Once inside, the sudden quiet was unsettling. He was keenly aware of Jane’s breath against his neck, of the way she was staring around them in surprise.

Just as he was.

“Is this…” He stopped, frowning as he set Jane on her feet. “Has your family been using this shed?”

It was a ludicrous thing to ask a young lady. How would she know if?—

“No,” she said decisively. She was eyeing the small room with the same confusion he felt.

There were cobwebs, to be sure, and possibly even mice. But all of that was secondary to the barrels and trunks that lined every wall, leaving little room for them to stand.

“Are these…yours?” Jane glanced over at him, and he knew she knew the answer because her brow was furrowed. For the first time—possibly ever, but definitely today—she didn’t fidget or blush or glance away from his stare. “Who else would store their belongings here?”

“Excellent question,” he muttered. He headed over to a barrel to his right, and lifted a lid. There was no denying the liquid inside. He let out a shaky exhale, that might have been a laugh if he wasn’t so horrified.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Why she was whispering, he couldn’t say, but there was something about this place that had him speaking in a hushed tone as well. “Spirits.” His gaze raked over the other boxes. It didn’t take much to guess what was inside. Spices, fabric, and other goods from overseas…

All the talk of rising taxes had been matched with even more talk of the rise in smuggling operations.

He’d known it was going on…but here in this quiet outskirt of London?

And right under his nose?

He was just starting to put the estate’s affairs to rights. Just beginning to get a handle on all the properties and the investments. This was the last thing he needed.

With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his hair back out of his eyes again. It fell back into his eyes stubbornly.

Jane inched closer to one of the crates to peek inside. “Who would use your land for such a thing?”

“It’s your land, actually,” he said.

Her brows arched up.

“It’s right on the dividing line,” he explained. As if property lines were of import at this particular moment.

Her father was a well respected Earl with wealth to spare. There was no way he was behind this. So who owned this dilapidated shed hardly mattered.

What mattered was who had been using it for their own gain?

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d have to tell the appropriate authorities, of course. But right now his first duty was to protect Jane.

“We ought to tell someone,” she murmured.

He made a noise of agreement. And then a blasted silence fell. Again. This one more pronounced than ever because the wind had died down momentarily and the crashing rain had become a dull thud on the roof and outside the open door.

A dripping sound cut through it all, louder than either of their breathing as they stood as far apart as possible in the small confines of the shed.

Well, she stood as far away as possible. He had yet to move. Her back was to him and he racked his brain for a way to cut this intolerable silence.

She was the one with a penchant for quiet. He’d never suffered from shyness, and this tension between them was new.

New and unpleasant.

Was this what married life would be like? Forever regarding one another warily from separate corners?

Curse it. “Lady Jane, I believe it’s high time you and I spoke about?—”

A shout cut him off. But it wasn’t from Jane, and it wasn’t from inside the shed. His brow furrowed as her eyes widened. They regarded each other in silence once more, but this time he was listening.

Yes. There it was again. A male shout, and from not too far away. He moved toward the open door. Perhaps one of the servants had also been caught outside or?—

“Who left the door open?” A guttural voice cut through the sound of rain.

This was followed by the crunch of heavy footsteps in the brush to the left. Marlin looked back to Jane who looked stricken and pale and…absurdly beautiful with her wet hair clinging to her skin and her eyes so wide.

He gave his head a shake, just as he heard, “Better not be trespassers, boss won’t like it if we’re found out.”

Horror flooded through him. The smugglers…were here. Fire surged within him and his muscles tightened with the urge to fight.

It’d been too long since his military days. He missed the physicality of it, and right now, he itched to fight whoever walked through that door.

He listened closely for more footsteps, trying to track how many were coming.

A handful, at least.

He’d be outnumbered, but he had the element of surprise.

But just then Jane’s breath caught with a gasp at the curse one of the men shouted.

He turned to her.

Blast. Even if he could take on the smugglers singlehandedly, who would protect Jane?

He straightened as the voices grew ever louder, a bark of a laugh slicing through the air like a knife. Moving toward her, he came up with a plan.

Not a good plan. But the best he could come up with at a moment’s notice.

Perhaps not surprisingly—but still disheartening, nonetheless—Jane scurried away from him as he approached. But he caught her by her upper arms and pulled her close until his soaked jacket was pressing against his shirt, and she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze.

Hers was filled with shock.

She was scared.

But the voices were close, and he had no time to explain. All he managed to say was, “My apologies for this, Jane.”

And then two things happened at once.

The smugglers entered the shed…

And Marlin finally kissed his bride-to-be.