Page 38 of The Highwayman's Bite

Chapter Fourteen

Rhys awoke to the soundof coughing. Not the gentle clearing of a throat, or the embellished affectation Madame Renarde had employed when trying to make a point, but a deep, racking explosion that echoed through the cave walls.

“Are you quite all right, Madame Renarde?” he inquired softly.

The ladies’ companion lit the lantern beside her bunk and blew her nose with a honk. “It’s the damp,” she explained. “I’ve never been able to abide it long.”

Rhys peered at her closely. With her first coughs and sneezes, he’d suspected she was attempting to feign illness so that he may release her, but from the look of the woman’s pale visage and watery eyes, that was not the case. Fine stubble also sprouted over her face, betraying the body in which she was born.

“Lord Thornton ought to have received my letter today,” he said in reassurance. But that didn’t feel like sufficient comfort. “I have a jar of honey that should ease the cough. And I can prepare a hot bath and give you use of my razor if you care to shave.”

Madame Renarde gave him a look that made his throat tighten. “You’re a good man, Rhys...” she trailed off, hoping he would slip and give his surname, then shrugged when he did not. “Too good to be a criminal. Why did you not engage in honest employment rather than theft and kidnapping?”

“Aside from the fact that theft is more profitable, and thus more effective in helping my family, it is a complicated situation.” Rhys shrugged and took a large cauldron from its place. He could have taken the whole bathing tub, which he did when he was alone, but that would look suspicious. “I’ll fill this with seawater for your bath.”

“May I accompany you?” a voice asked.

He glanced at Vivian’s cot. She was awake and buttoning her boots. A surge of pleasure flickered through him at the prospect of her company. “Of course.”

Madame Renarde began to object, but another coughing fit took over. Selfishly, Rhys took Vivian’s hand and led her out of the cave.

“I’m worried about that cough,” she said, bending to pick up a seashell.

Rhys nodded. “I’m going to put honey in her tea and encourage her to rest. I’ll see about finding some soup for supper as well.”

“And if she doesn’t get better?” she looked up at him imploringly.

He stopped and watched the waves crash against the shore. “Then I shall take her back to your uncle.”

“But not me?” Her hand touched his sleeve, a pleading whisper.

He shook his head, refusing to weaken. “Not you. I need that money, Vivian.”

“I know.” She sighed. “You may not believe me, but I do sympathize for your family, I truly do.”

“Thank you.” It seemed no one did these days, and her words meant more than he’d anticipated. “I will know on Sunday if your uncle pays the ransom.” He bent at a curve of shale that formed a shallow pool and dipped the cauldron in the water. “I hope he does.”

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