Page 77 of Crash Landing
“Oh.”
“I don’t regret a moment of being with you. But the little hairs on the back of my neck feel like knife points, and I do not know why.”
Her expression softened. “You are a worrier. That’s why you are always two steps ahead of the rest of us. But we got the letters back and no one was hurt. We completely fooled Frampton. Is this not cause for celebration?”
“Yes, it should be. Perhaps I will breathe easier once you turn them over to the princess. But you still have them in your hands, so this is not over yet.”
“I know. I suppose this is why you still have your footmen on night patrol.” They would come on duty soon, although there were several more hours of daylight remaining.
Timmons brought in the pot of hot cocoa and then left him and Florence to their privacy in the library.
Florence had been perusing the shelves of books and now walked over to sit beside Trajan on the settee while he poured cups for each of them.
“Last time we were in here, you pounced on me and spilled the cocoa all over us and the furniture.”
He grunted. “You Newtons seem to attract this sort of thing. Oversetting tea carts. Hermia was brilliant today, wasn’t she?”
Florence smiled as she nodded. “She’s little and frail, but she took Rutledge down with the skill of a Roman gladiator.”
“My staff has just put this place to rights. Hopefully, we can keep it pristine for more than a day.”
She smiled again. “I’ll try my best.”
“Florence, you needn’t ever worry about my feelings for you.” He took her hand, surprised to find it cold. “I want you to know that I desired this betrothal and wanted it to be real from the start. My desire has not changed. Whatever happens, we are in this together. Start to finish.”
“But you had such a look in your eyes throughout supper. And why the silence?” She let out a breath. “I know you are a man of honor and will keep to your word. But you are struggling with your feelings. More to the point, you struggle with your feelings toward me. I rile you and upset you. Did I not warn you this betrothal would not last? Why should you be any different from my family?”
He handed her a cup. She warmed her hands around it, althoughthe weather was mild and her hands should not have been so cold.
“I am not your parents. Nor am I your worthless brother. It ismycowardice in all of this that infuriates and frustrates me.”
The remark genuinely surprised her. “You are no coward! Far from it!”
“I let you take all the risk while I sat up in a damn tree and watched from a distance with my binoculars.”
“But this was our plan all along. It was the only way it could have worked.”
“I know—doesn’t mean I liked it. What if Frampton had shot you? I would have been helpless to prevent it. Do you see now why I have yet to calm down?”
“No, I still cannot understand why you are flagellating yourself. I was the only one who could have pulled off the switch. I was the one Sylvia trusted. You could not have marched in and pretended a fascination with embroidery.”
He grunted in acknowledgment, for that much was true.
“Nor could you have stopped me from going into Frampton’s home. I am very stubborn when I have a mind to be.”
“I know,” he said with a mirthless grin, and suddenly wondered whether the glint of metal that flickered across the window just now was his mind playing tricks on him again.
Where were his footmen? Was it one of them who had passed by the window while on patrol?
“The hardest part is over and we are safely back home,” Florence continued, but he listened with half an ear. “It isn’t as though—Ack!”
He shoved Florence down and covered her with his body just as a shot rang out and shattered the pot of cocoa before tearing through his arm.
He cursed as a stinging burn coursed through him.
“Bloody bastard,” he muttered, wincing as he reached for the weapon kept in the lip of his boot while at the same time holdingFlorence down.
And bloody blazes! Cocoa had spilled all over them and the settee yet again. His granduncle must be rolling in his grave.
