Page 99 of Counting on a Countess
God—he needed to get her away from this place, from her relatives, and whatever else seemed to trouble her.
Reluctantly, he pulled back enough to growl, “I need you back. With me. Doesn’t have to be London—we can go anywhere. So long as we’re together.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m needed here, too.”
“For how long?”
“Not forever.” She opened her eyes, and her gaze verged on pleading. “Please, Kit. Let’s not quarrel about it.”
She looked so strained and stretched thin, it would be churlish to press her about it now. However, “Wewilldiscuss this. Soon.”
He let her go when she eased from his arms, but the ache he felt at her loss was immediate.
“Care for a tour?” she asked after a moment.
Kit frowned at the sudden change in topic. “I’ve taken a thorough inspection of the house. Unless there’s a secret dungeon I’ve missed.”
Her laugh seemed a touch forced. “You’ve read too many of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels.”
“I’m merely waiting for somebandittito carry me off and force me to wed their captain.”
“We could take the tour farther afield,” she offered. “I could show you some of my favorite places. I promise this part of Cornwall isn’t strictly devoted to toadying uncles and their derelict houses.”
“I would like that,” he answered. Here, at last, would be a chance to learn more about her—what she liked, what she loved. Each revelation was as precious as a pearl.
Somehow, he would make everything right between them.
The ride into Newcombe was a short one. The way took them along the edge of the cliffs, then descended down into the tidy little village. Just beyond the village stood the bay, with fishing boats and other small vessels rising and lifting on the waves.
“That’s Sam Franks’s grocer shop,” Tamsyn said, pointing to one storefront. A young, blond man wearing an apron stood on the front step and watched them pass with no attempt to disguise his curiosity.
“Jack and Ellie Edgar run the public house,” she added, nodding toward the establishment. Men gathered in the window to stare, their interest in Kit as evident as the grocer’s.
She seemed oblivious to the many inquisitive looks that trailed them, but Kit noticed. He saw more than a few men narrow their eyes with suspicion and caution. The women they passed on the street stopped and whispered to each other.
He’d had warmer welcomes from fallen Spanish towns. His body immediately responded, snapping into alert readiness. He could fight or flee at a moment’s notice.
“This is Josiah Williams’s all things shop,” Tamsyn announced, bringing their horses to a stop. They dismounted. “We’ll just pop in for a moment. I need to buy quills.”
“Wait a moment,” Kit said, holding up a hand. “Isn’t that Nessa?”
The woman was walking down High Street with a basket hanging from her arm, looking preoccupied. She came to a stop as she noticed Kit and Tamsyn, her eyes wide with surprise.
“I hadn’t seen her yesterday,” he realized. “Why aren’t you back at the house?” he asked Nessa.
“I...” The older woman seemed at a loss for words.
“She lives in the village,” Tamsyn explained smoothly, “with her son, his wife, and her grandchild. She comes up every day to help me.”
“So why is she here now?” he wondered.
“The baby’s sick,” Nessa said quickly. “And so is his mum. I’m looking after both of them.”
“I can manage without her until they get well,” Tamsyn added. “Come, let’s leave Nessa to her errands so she can return home and nurse them.” She tugged him toward the all things shop.
Nessa hurried away, and Kit frowned as he watched her disappear down a side street. But Tamsyn kept urging him into the shop, so he moved on.
The bell on the door chimed as Kit pushed it open, causing everyone within to freeze and stare at him. Kit nodded guardedly as Tamsyn strode in.
