Page 44 of The Heart of an Earl

“Yes, sir. I don’t care fer anyone sticking a pistol in me ribs.”

“You are still willing to drive, man?”

“Aye.”

Des nodded and picked Jules up, lifting her into the coach, and then he hauled himself up through the opening. He leaned out of the carriage, his hand on the top of the coach’s door. “We drive on to Gloucestershire as fast as you can push the horses.”

The driver tipped his head, flicking his horses onward.

Des slammed the carriage door closed, then collapsed onto the bench beside Jules and pulled her into his arms.

Her shaking hands went to his chest. “I wasn’t with them, Des. I swear.”

“Why would you think I would ever imagine that?”

She pushed slightly away to look at him, blinking back tears. Distrust. Seeds of distrust in her eyes.

His grip tightened around her back. “What were they after?”

Her eyes closed and she swallowed hard. “Me. The box. They wanted the box.”

He could feel it in her skirts, pressing into his leg. She hadn’t handed it over.

“How did they get free off theRed Dragon?How did they get here?”

“I don’t know—I asked—I screamed it, actually—and they said no feeble English crew could hold them down.”

“Johnson is gone?”

She shrugged as her head flew in a furious shake. “I don’t know—it—it happened so fast. I was standing there and then Rubio appeared in front of me, his black teeth smirking—and a dagger was in my side and they dragged me to the carriage and shoved me in. I fought—I swear I fought. But I didn’t have my blade—I had nothing. I left it in the damn shop because I thought—I thought—stupid. I thought I could leave it behind and that was stupid. And then the coach stopped and they forced me out and you were here.”

Her head bowed, a quivering exhale seething out of her as her head continued to shake. “I never…I never…”

“Never what, Jules?”

“I never should have thought I was safe.” Her look lifted to him, her voice dwindling to a whisper. “I started to believe. Really believe. You made me believe. Believe I could be home. Be safe. That I was safe. But I’m not. And I don’t even know how to protect myself anymore. I tried to forget all of what had happened—all of what I was forced to be when it’s the very thing I should have been holding onto.”

He pressed her head against his chest, rage spinning fire in his veins—even more so than before.

He should have killed the bastards. Right there on the street, sent them to their graves.

He hadn’t actively tried to kill anyone since stepping off the warship. All those battles with the crew of theFirefox, he’d swung to injure, disarm, never to kill. Never to kill again if he could help it. Let others judge who should live or die.

But this—the desire to sink a blade deep into a man to send him to his grave swept over Des.

He should have sliced them through.

And if he hadn’t needed to be holding Jules, calming her, he would have reversed course and finished what needed to happen to those cutthroats.

But it wasn’t an option. Not until Jules was safe.

Des stifled the fury taking over his body, his words raw. “You’re safe, Jules. Safe. I have you.”

Her head stilled on his chest, silent.

Whether she believed him or not, he couldn’t tell. And he didn’t want to ask.

His arm tensed around her torso.

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