Jeremy was certain ithadbeen empty and that no one had attempted to secretly live there or make use of the space in the absence of Lord Linton and his son. The chairs were still upturned and placed on the table on one side of the room, near a curtained window that must have had a lovely view. The stove in the corner was covered in dust, as were most bits of furniture and the floor and rag rug. There was a bed through an open doorway in the cottage’s other room, but it had been stripped and the mattress covered in muslin. Indeed, everything that wasn’t covered in dust was covered in muslin.

“It seems as if we have our work cut out for us today,” Derrek said with a smirk, walking the bags he carried into the bedroom and setting them down. He turned a circle, looking at things in the bedroom that Jeremy couldn’t see, then nodded. “The structure is sound and I don’t feel any draughts.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Jeremy said, putting his bag on the edge of the table that wasn’t taken up by the chairs. “With a little work, this could be a fine, temporary home.”

“We’d best get to work, then,” Derrek said, striding back out into the main room, then on toward the open, outer door. “It’s a good thing Maurice thought to supply us with victuals from The Chameleon Club’s kitchen,” he said as he passed Jeremy. “There’s a small village an hour’s walk from here or so where we can purchase the things we need, but I’m glad not to have to make the trek today.”

Jeremy was glad, too. There were far too many things to do at the cottage to make it habitable, and he didn’t fancy stepping into a society of strangers when he still felt as though every shadow might have a knife. And that was without considering the ways people might talk if they saw him and Derrek arrive at the market together.

As Derrek brought in the rest of their supplies, Jeremy removed his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and set to work removing muslin from the cottage’s furnishings so that he could assess just how much scrubbing needed to be done. The answer was quite a bit. Not only had dust gathered, a few creatures had attempted to make their home in the cottage, even if no humans had.

“What do I do about this cushion?” he asked Derrek, his lip curled in distaste as he gingerly picked up a cushion from the main room’s small settee that had been some woodland thing’s nest for the winter.

Derrek laughed. “Haven’t you ever cleaned up after rats and mice in the city?” he asked.

“I have,” Jeremy said flatly, pinching one corner of the cushion in his fingers and carrying it swiftly outside. “But I have no idea whether the leavings of woodland rats and mice require different handling than city ones.”

Derrek’s rich, pealing laughter followed him through the windows they’d opened to let air into their new home. “City boys are so delightfully fussy,” he said.

Jeremy disposed of the ruined cushion on what looked like a midden heap at the edge of the garden then paused to fill a bucket from the pump they’d discovered hallway between the cottage and the trees.

“You yourself are from the city, are you not?” he asked as he brought the bucket inside and over to the stove. He intended to clean that first and build a fire both to take the chill out of the cottage, though Derrek had already lit a fire in the fireplace, and so that he could make tea. No escape into the forest could possibly be complete without tea.

Derrek still stood by the fireplace, bent awkwardly as he tried to stare up the chimney, likely to determine why the fire was smoking more than it should have. “I was born and raised in Wiltshire, actually,” he said.

“Wiltshire!” Jeremy brightened. “That’s lovely country, or so I’m told.”

“It is,” Derrek said, coughing a bit, then pulling away from the fireplace. “Though not if you’re caught buggering the neighboring farmer’s son when the both of you are barely fifteen.”

“Oh, er, I see,” Jeremy said, heating with embarrassment.

Derrek merely shrugged. “It spurred me to run away to London,” he said. “I was restless at any rate. The move was good for me. No one knew me in London, they just saw a strong, strapping country lad who was useful at throwing unruly patrons out of pubs.”

“Is that the means by which you became a police officer?” Jeremy asked as he scrubbed the stove.

“It is,” Derrek said with a nod. “I gained a good reputation working at those pubs. I was taken on by more and more respectable establishments. Then, when I was about two-and-twenty, I assisted the police in an operation. The superior was so impressed with me that he offered to hire me. It was just as the Metropolitan Police Department was truly coming to prominence. I was not keen on it at first, but Joseph—” He paused to clear his throat, a suddenly sad look coming over him. It only lasted a moment before he shook it off and finished with, “I was able to rise quickly in their ranks.”

Jeremy blinked and turned away from the stove. He wanted to know more about Joseph, but he did not feel as though he had a right to ask. “How do your superiors at the Met feel about you running off to protect me?” he asked instead.

Derrek sent him a wry grin as he used the large cloth he’d just cleaned his hands off with to wipe dust off the mantel and nearby windowsill. “I could not say. I let one of my colleagues know I was leaving London for a time on important business, but I did not speak directly to my superior.”

“You did what?” Jeremy straightened in surprise. “You just left? How? There wasn’t any time to speak to your colleagues. We went straight from the shop to The Chameleon Club, and then to the carriage. We only paused at your rooms long enough for you to pack a trunk. I waited in the carriage.”

“I sent a note with one of the runners from the club,” Derrek said, shrugging as if he didn’t care that he’d ended a long and illustrious career by note. “I explained as much as I could without saying too much.”

“You should not have done that,” Jeremy said, shaking his head as he washed the kettle that he’d found packed in a box with straw, along with other cooking paraphernalia. “You should have waited a day and spoken to your superior face to face, informed him of the situation and your plans to protect me.”

“And risk giving Conroy and his accomplice another go at you?” Derrek huffed a laugh. “Not a chance. You’re far more important.”

As if Jeremy’s face and body weren’t already hot enough, Derrek’s sweet words made him flush even hotter. Derrek had put far too much on the line simply to protect him. They barely knew each other, although that didn’t seem to matter. The two of them were the same in a great many ways, though they were radically different in most others, and danger often formed fast friendships.

“I shall endeavor to make this all worth your while,” Jeremy said, not really thinking about the words before they were said.

“I am most certain you will,” Derrek replied in the low, growly voice he used when he deliberately provoked Jeremy.

Jeremy stiffened and peeked over his shoulder. Derrek was still cleaning and not currently looking at him, but Jeremy felt observed all the same. He was so deeply out of his depth that he could not even get his bearings, definitely not where Derrek was concerned. He was safe from one predator for the time being, but he felt very much like he had fallen firmly into the clutches of a wicked man of an entirely different color. Whatever their time in Kent held, it would be an adventure.

Six