Page 65 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“Yes,” she whispered. “I didn’t think anyone but you could make me feel like this, but he does. He’s seen me, all of me, even at my worst.”
“So ye are enough for him,” Tyburn sighed. “But is he enough for ye?”
“He’s everything,” Diana confessed. “It all happened so fast, but I feel like my soul and his... we’ve come from the same place. We are the same, he and I.” It was something she’d never imagined she’d say about any man, that she could feel so wholly herself and yet a part of another like that, but she did. She and Rachel had often teased each other about mates of the soul when they’d been younger, finding that perfect gentleman. But she didn’t want or need a man who was perfect. Rafe was perfect in his imperfection. She wanted Rafe, wanted his misery, his heartache, his joy, his love, his passion. She wanted all of it, wanted all of him.
Tyburn turned to face her. “Will ye miss me, lass?” he asked.
She forced herself to sit up, resting her forehead against Tyburn’s shoulder as he tightened his hold on her hand and laced his fingers through hers.
“God forgive me, but I will. I willmissyou, Tyburn.”
“There will never be another in my heart but ye, lass.” He lifted her face up and kissed her lips with all the heartache of a final goodbye.
Bliss and misery exploded in the wake of that long, slow melting of mouths in the rushlight. She tasted love in this stranger’s kiss, just as she had that first night they’d come together in that little hunting lodge. Tears coated her cheeks as they pulled apart, and she wiped at her eyes.
“Rest now. Ye need to heal.” He urged her back to the bed and tucked the blankets up around her again. She watched him through watery eyes as he opened the window. Outside, thunder rumbled, an echo of her soul quaking at this painful parting.
“Tyburn... Would you show me who you really are? Or at least tell me your true name?”
Rain pattered on the stones and ivy of the house, which was strangely soothing to her at this moment when her heart felt like it was breaking. Tyburn braced the window open and faced her, the rushlight’s glow barely illuminating his masked face.
“I am but a dream, lass. And dreams should never be named. It destroys the magic in them.”
And then, just as he had entered her life, her wicked highwayman vanished into the cold, rainy night.
CHAPTER 15
Rafe sprawled out on the floor of the Lennox library beneath the canopy of blankets and wooden broomsticks that formed Fort Lennox.
Rafe and Isla were fierce Highlanders who had taken over the tent fort. They then successfully defended it from the English general Ashton and forced him to surrender his plate of cherry tarts as well as his glasses of punch.
Now they enjoyed their spoils of war in peace while Ashton had retreated to another part of the house to do whatever English villains did when not causing trouble for adorable Scottish children.
Isla sat with her legs crisscrossed as she ate her cherry tart. Above them, the bedsheets that formed the peaked steeple glowed bright with morning sunlight. It was warm and cozy within the blanket fort, and Rafe was tempted to take a nap, but he had matters to tend to, namely broaching the subject of a new mother to Isla without getting her too excited.
It had been two days since that night in Diana’s bedchamber. The night she’d been shot. The night she’d confessed her love to him without realizing it. He had ridden back early the nextmorning to see her as Rafe, but her butler had informed him she wasn’t up for visitors, not even him.
Peele had seemed disappointed but assured him that she would send word when she was well enough to receive visitors. Rafe had told Peele that she was welcome to see him at his home any time of the day or night, or to send for him and he would come straightaway. It had been damned hard to get back on his horse and ride home, knowing that Diana was somewhere in her house, hurting, and he could not comfort her the way she needed.
He knew she had to avoid him until her arm was well enough to not pain her. It would be hard to hide that her arm was injured. She would have no way of explaining it to him because hecouldn’tknow about what had happened to her. He’d almost stormed back into the house to tell her he was Tyburn, but he’d stopped himself. It was already a huge risk that she was robbing coaches under his name. He couldn’t add to that by telling her his other identity.
But now, after just two days, Rafe was restless with the need to see Diana, to make sure she was healing, and that was the very thing he couldn’t do. The robbery that night and the attack from Caddington’s men had made the papers this morning. It was only a matter of time before the noose tightened. He, Will, and Caspian had agreed not to ride again in this part of the country, but how was he to stop Diana from riding? He knew her well enough now, and his fire drake wouldn’t let a bullet stop her from acquiring the money she needed. She was just as motivated as he was to care for what she loved. The second her arm was healed, she’d be right back on her horse and donning a mask. Given that she’d lost the money from the last robbery to his Tyburn persona, she might be even more desperate and take even more risks.
He would have done the same had he been in her position. Which he had. The night Rosalind had shot him when he’d robbed her coach, he’d been badly hurt, but he’d vowed to get back on his horse as soon as he could. Diana had seen his scar from that incident, but she had no idea it was Rosalind who had wounded him.
Rafe frowned as he contemplated the money he’d given Ashton last evening to invest. His cut from that last robbery had been more than nine hundred pounds. A veritable fortune. His brother had raised a brow but didn’t demand to know where he had gotten it. Rafe said he had won it unexpectedly from a risk he had taken, which was veiled enough that it sounded like a streak of luck at gambling. That had earned a frown from Ashton, but then he’d gone on to discuss some interesting investment opportunities in certain bonds that he believed would result in profitable returns. The money box they had claimed had been a bigger prize than any of them expected, but he would have traded it all in an instant for Diana to be unharmed.
“Papa, you’re frowning,” Isla said as she poked his cheek with a cherry-covered finger.
“Sorry, kitten.” He wiped the cherry filling from his cheek with a handkerchief and sat up a little. “Isla... I have been giving some thought to this new mama business.”
His daughter’s face brightened. “Oh?” She sounded a lot like Rosalind, the way she tried to play as if she wasn’t all that interested in something while secretly being very interested. His daughter had been spending too much time around her aunt.
“Yes. I don’t want you to get your hopes up just yet, but I would like to ask Miss Fox to marry me.” He paused to weigh his words. “But she may not be ready just yet. I will ask her when the time is right.” Like when she no longer played a highwayman at night. Until she gave up that dangerous aspect of her life, hecould not marry her. Of course, he would have to give up his own illicit activities too. Some men would not admit that, but fair was fair, and he knew Diana would need him to commit to the same, especially when she learned he was Tyburn. He and Diana both needed financial stability, but he was damned if he knew how to go about it any quicker than waiting on the investments Ashton was making for him.
“Mrs. Crumpet and I will be patient,” Isla said stoically, and sipped her punch.
“Good. Because I?—”
