Page 31 of Gone With the Rogue
Garrett stuffed the rest of the papers into the folder and retied the leather strings. “I’ll have a list made of every company in here. When you confront the duke it’s best you not have the real documents with you.”
“What if the duke catches you with them in your possession? He could have you put in prison.”
Garrett reached over and kissed her sweetly, earnestly, and then looked into her eyes. “I’m not afraid to go to prison, but I would be afraid for you to go. If we’re both careful, I won’t have to. Now, let’s getthe desk put back in its proper place and I’ll get out of here. We don’t want to give the housekeeper cause to suspect anyone ever touched it.”
Julia grabbed hold of his arm and stopped him when he started to rise. “I want to know what you find out. I’ll meet you at The Seafarer’s School late tomorrow afternoon. There’s a house in front of the school and a garden between the two. Can you meet me there?”
He smiled. “I’ll meet you anywhere you want me to.”
She squeezed his arm. “You must be careful not to be seen. A neighbor across the street has a spyglass and I’m told she’s not shy about using it.”
Chapter 10
Gray skies threatened rain as Garrett walked at a fast pace past shops and businesses on his way to the offices of Stockton Shipping Company, carrying the duke’s documents in a satchel. The rare, humid heat that had settled upon London for a few days had lifted and was no longer scorching plants, animals, and human life. In its place were cool temperatures more common to late summer in London.
It was a short distance from Garrett’s leased room at the prestigious Holcott-Fortney Inn to the business district of St. James, but the trek was invigorating. He could ride in a carriage from place to place as most proper gentlemen did, but Garrett walked. There’d been too many days onboard ships when he’d wished for land so he could walk as long as he wanted. When sailing, he often imagined himself on a horse, riding at full gallop across a wide expanse of Englishcountryside. He intended to do that, but other things were more important right now.
He didn’t have to look in the windows or open doorways to know what shops he passed. The scents told him all he needed to know. The tailor smelled of fabric, the bakery of fresh bread, and the apothecary of dried herbs and potent spices.
He hadn’t gone to any of the clubs or the card room at the inn after he’d left Julia last night. All he’d wanted was a glass of brandy and the thought of her to lull him to sleep. The tension between them had been vibrant and hot since the moment they’d met. Every time he looked at her, he wanted her. And now that he’d been with her, he wanted her again. He had no doubt she felt the same. Making that happen wouldn’t be so easy. She was right to be cautious in the duke’s house.
Their coming together had been desperate, urgent and primitive but deeply satisfying. She’d been as passionate as he’d imagined, but what he was still trying to comprehend was how his feelings for her had grown so intensely so quickly. He hadn’t been looking for a lady to capture his heart and soul. Garrett stopped. That thought took him by surprise. But, yes, he feared Julia might have done just that.
He started walking again. From the moment he saw her in the tree, he’d been enchanted by her. She’d had all his senses reeling and he hadn’t been able to shake thoughts of her. Now, he didn’t want to. She was beautiful, capable, and he admired her strength and tenacity in wanting to topple the duke from his domineering and self-righteous perch.
Garrett was going to help her. He nodded and smiled to a gentleman he passed, then chuckled under his breath.
Midday bustled with sounds of pedestrian chatter, horses’ hooves clopping, and carriage wheels rumbling over hard-packed roads. Garrett tipped his hat to every lady he passed and nodded to every gentleman whether or not they were Society born. Now that he’d been all over the world, for the most part, anyway, he was beginning to think he was ready to spend more time in England once again. After ten years of traveling, London felt like home.
Lady Kitson Fairbright was the reason.
How could it have ever crossed his mind that a widow with a son of her own would be the lady of his dreams? Everything about her drew him. Her courage and her dedication impressed him. Her passion was real and strong whether she was protecting Chatwyn, going after the duke, or lying in his arms. She put all her strength into whatever she was doing.
Garrett’s stomach tightened at the thought of her in his arms again. Much as he had ached to be with her, he would have never suggested they come together last night. Putting her in danger wasn’t something he wanted to do. He wanted to protect her. If she hadn’t made it clear that being with him was exactly what she wanted, he wouldn’t have touched her.
“Damnation,” he whispered to himself, aching to be with her again.
There was more between them than just words, glances, touches and kisses. More than just primal coming together. After last night, she had him thinking about giving up his life of the adventurer and living a settled life with a family, but would a lady like Julia take the chance that he wouldn’t leave her and take to the sea again? He didn’t even know the answer to that himself. Answers to that question would have tocome later. For now, he’d concentrate on helping her with the duke.
He passed a perfumery, and the varied floral scents drifting onto the heavy air stirred his thoughts of how fresh Julia smelled. There wasn’t a hint of rosewater, lavender, or any other fragrance on her skin. That made her different from any other woman he could remember being with. Her hair had been braided, and he would have liked nothing better than to free it from the tight coil and sink his fingers into its lush length while making her his. But there had been no time for slow strokes down the plane of her hip or kisses that went on forever. They’d been too desperate. But next time, he would touch, kiss and love her the way he wanted to.
A chuckle rumbled in Garrett’s chest as he noticed a couple of street urchins eyeing him as he approached them. He knew they were looking him over, trying to decide if they could distract him long enough to lift his coin purse. It was a fairly common occurrence wherever he went, and Garrett never minded their attempts. It was a way of life for them.
The footpads caused Julia’s little boy to come to mind. She had been horrified when he grabbed hold of Garrett’s leg. If she only knew the many times he’d been rushed by a band of street urchins bent on pilfering his purse and dagger, or mobbed by a gang of gypsy children who’d been sent out by their parents to pick pockets clean of anything that might have value. They hadn’t been particular about where they touched when robbing him. One little boy holding on to him wasn’t going to disturb Garrett’s disposition.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shilling.He tossed it in the air toward the street urchins as he passed. They laughed with delight and shouted thank you.
Garrett inhaled the wet, earthy scent from the tobacco store next door as he walked up the three steps to the entrance of Stockton Shipping and entered the office. A stocky-built man with thinning gray hair jumped out of his chair from behind the simple desk and said, “Good-day to you, sir. Is there anything I can help you with this morning?”
Mr. Ashfield always asked the same question whenever Garrett was in the offices. “Yes, Mr. Ashfield, there is something.”
Garrett took off his hat and placed it on a small table along with his umbrella. While removing his gloves, he looked around the spacious room, something he couldn’t remember actually taking the time to do before. There was never any reason to. He spent so little time at the offices of his shipping company. It was the first time he realized there was very little furniture sitting about and absolutely nothing hung on the walls. No framed writings, etchings, or drawings. No paintings of ships, landscapes, or fruit and flowers. There wasn’t a candlestick holder on either side of the room or a clock standing in one of the corners.
It was odd that today he was aware of how barren the room was. It had nothing to give it the liveliness of being occupied. Garrett had never set up an office for himself in his own building. There was no purpose, he’d always told himself. He was seldom in London, and when he was, he spent most of his time in Mr. Urswick’s office.
But today, for reasons Garrett didn’t want to ponder too closely, he was being more honest with histhoughts. If he set up an office for himself in the shipping company, the old guard in the ton could legitimately say he no longer simply owned ships and traveled about the world as a sojourner, and that he’d gone into trade. But now that he’d met Julia, Garrett was glad he hadn’t made the final commitment to give up his link with Polite Society.
He walked over to Mr. Ashfield and pulled a leather bag not much larger than a man’s coin purse out of his pocket. He looked down at Ashfield’s hands. They were definitely worse than the last time he saw the man. His knuckles were large and knobby.
