Page 87 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

"That's—"

"It's all I know how to give." His voice was rough. "I'm sorry it's not enough."

But it was enough. That’s what she wanted to tell him. That she was beginning to understand.

Before she could, he released her arm. Stepped back. Nodded to Brennan.

"Keep her safe. I'll see you at the residence."

"Matthew."

He didn't look back.

He walked to where Duff waited with the horses, mounted, and rode towards the main road without a backward glance.

Florence stood in the wet grass beside the border marker, watching her husband disappear into the grey Scottish morning.

She didn't cry.

But buried deep where she refused to look, was the terrible fear that she might never see him again.

Chapter twenty-two

Madam Tansley

Florence

The safe house was a crumbling cottage on the edge of a village that had seen better centuries. Stone walls thick enough to stop a bullet. Windows too narrow for a man to climb through. A single door easily barred.

Florence sat at a scarred wooden table, the leather satchels at her feet. Twenty pounds of evidence. Six years of work. Everything she needed to destroy Carrick.

If she could get it to someone who would use it.

Brennan stood by the door, watching the road. Tam had left two hours ago, riding hard for Edinburgh with a message for the magistrate.

I'm here. I have everything. Meet me tonight.

Now they waited.

Florence stared at the wall and tried not to think about Matthew. About the way he'd ridden off without looking back. About the words he'd never said. About the fear coiling in her stomach, the fear that Carrick's men had already found him.

He's survived worse. He's survived Carrick before.

But Carrick hadn't known who he was before. Hadn't known the bodyguard escorting his prey was his own half-brother. If he found out…

She closed her eyes. Forced the thoughts down. She couldn't afford them. Not now.

The sound of hoofbeats.

Brennan tensed at the door, hand going to his knife. Florence rose, her own blade already in her palm.

"It's Tam," Brennan said after a moment. "Alone."

He unbarred the door. Tam ducked inside, rain dripping from his coat, his face grim.

Florence knew before he spoke.

"He refused." He wiped his brows with his sleeve. "Denied knowing you. Denied knowing anything about Carrick or the evidence. Said he'd never heard of Madam Tansley."