Page 59 of Her Wicked Highwayman
I am your wicked highwayman. Your Tyburn. You can trust me. He wanted to say those words, but it was too dangerous for her to know the truth, and the last thing he wanted to do was put her in danger. Diana’s brown eyes met his, and that flash of lightning zinged from her into him. She searched his face, seeking answers he wished he could give.
“Fate gave me Isla,” said Rafe. “And yesterday, I believe fate brought you to me. I am willing to trust in fate again.”
She licked her lips, her soft breath escaping in a rush. Her knees bumped his as she angled to face him.
“You would tell me everything? No secrets?” she asked.
“No secrets...” The lie was bittersweet and softened only by the fact that someday, when it was safe, he would tell her the full truth.
“Tell me everything, from the beginning. Tell me the story of your life.” She squeezed his hands, and something like a wave deep beneath the sea moved through him, filling every part of him with her essence, and all she had done was let him bare his own soul without fear.
He told Diana about his childhood, about the night his father died and how everything in his family had changed as a result. He told her about Caddington and Phelps, and how his father had sent him home, but he’d left the coach and gotten hurt and watched his father get struck by a passing carriage. He’d never toldanyoneelse about it. Even though Ashton had been there that night, they’d never spoken of what had transpired. She kept silent until he drew in a breath.
“Did you say LordCaddington?” she asked, her honey-brown eyes swirling with turbulent storms.
“Yes, a man who is both foul and dangerous. I’ve kept my distance from him ever since that night.”
“I believe that is wise,” she agreed. “He isn’t to be trusted.”
Fear spiked in him. “You know him?”
“I’ve had the displeasure of meeting him once, about a month ago. He interrogated me after I was a victim of a highway coach robbery.”
Rafe tensed. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. I despised the man so much upon first meeting him that I purposely misled him. Unfortunately, two of the men who were riding in my coach when I was robbed remembered some details that I had withheld. But for my part, I hope those thieves never get caught.”
The tension in Rafe’s shoulders eased. So that was how Caddington knew their names. That fact had been on his mind since Ashton had shown him the article in the newspaper. Of course, any of their other victims could have shared such information, but now he knew it hadn’t been Diana. She had kept her promise to Tyburn.
“Caddington is set on catching them,” Diana continued, her voice still quiet. “They’ve robbed several coaches of his, ones that had money belonging to him.”
Rafe’s brows rose. He’d had a few lucky nights with Will and Caspian in the last few months where casks of money had been on the coaches they’d robbed, but he’d had no idea they were connected to Caddington. He had to hide the surge of grim pride at knowing he’d wounded the bastard’s pocketbook more than once.
“We should speak no more of him,” Diana said.
“Agreed. And now it’s your turn.” He stood and she rose as well. “Shall we walk and you can tell me about yourself?” he offered.
“All right.” The door to the sitting room opened, and a middle-aged woman carried in a tea tray.
“Oh, Mrs. Ripley, I’m so sorry,” said Diana. “But I think we are going to walk for a bit. We shall drink it when we return.”
The housekeeper nodded. “Yes, of course, Miss Fox. So sorry for the delay. I’ll reheat it for when you return.”
Rafe realized that no footman or maid had brought the tea earlier, and they’d talked quite a long time. It made him wonder how understaffed Diana’s house was that even a simple tea service was so delayed.
“This way...” Diana led Rafe into the corridor, and when she apologized again about the missed tea, he pulled her to a stop and smiled, leaning down to whisper to her.
“I don’t give a fig about the tea, darling. I’m here foryou. And it’s your turn. Tell me everything, and you simply must start at the beginning.”
The smile that spread across her face shone with an inner starlight he adored beyond measure.
He could hear the mix of love and pain in her voice as she shared her childhood with him. They entered a gallery of paintings, and she stopped before one of two small girls.
Diana nodded at the portrait. “That is me and my sister, Eleanor.”
The dark-haired one he recognized was Diana. She had been an adorable child, with pink cheeks and a bright-green dress. She was perhaps four years old. His gaze moved to the older girl, and his chest tightened. She reminded him of Isla, or rather what Isla might look like when she was a few years older, when her face turned from a small child to that of a young girl. He was both excited for and dreading that day.
His daughter was going to grow up so fast, and he feared he would miss it every time he closed his eyes. Many parents longed for their children to be children forever, but Rafe’s mother hadtold him when he was young that the joy of children was not keeping them as children, but watching them become the people they were meant to be. It was the journey, not the beginning, that mattered. A parent’s true joy was seeing their child at every stage of life.
