Page 83 of Marry in Secret
“No, I can manage. I’ll hire someone when I get back. No use having him kicking his heels and doing nothing while I’m away.”
“Away?”
“Yes, I’m not sure how long I’ll be. It depends.”
***
Ice coalesced in the pit of Rose’s stomach. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. He’d spoken quite casually, as if he were referring to some everyday excursion, popping down to Brighton, for instance, or visiting Bath. But it was no simple trip he was contemplating.
“Depends on what? Where are you going, Thomas?”
He turned. “Where do you think, Rose?”
She bit her lip.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he said. “You know what I have to do.”
“You’re planning to go yourself? To the Barbary Coast? But you can’t!”
“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving until after the ball.”
“I don’t care about the ball—well, I do, but—” She broke off, stunned by his casual carelessness. “You can’t go, Thomas. You can’t go back to that dreadful place.”
“Now, Rose, how else can I rescue my men? I promised them I’d bring them home. You know how important it is to me. I can’t do it from here.” He made it sound so reasonable, but it wasn’t.
For heaven’s sake, she’d seen him herself this very night past, shaking and trembling in the grip of a nightmare that sheknew—whether he admitted it or not—was a direct result of his dreadful experiences there. And he was going back?
“Why can’t you rescue them from here? Why not get someone else to go, a trustworthy agent?”
“Because it’s not a straightforward transaction. I’ll need to find out exactly where each man is and then negotiate for his freedom. It will take a certain amount of local knowledge and a good deal of cunning. And who could I trust with the gold?”
She stared at him, dismayed. “But what if you’re captured again? What if someone recognizes you? A tall Englishman with eyes the color of a summer sky is going to stand out. And the minute anyone sees your scars they’re going to know you were a slave, Thomas. And they’ll take you, they’ll lock you up and put you in chains and whip you.”
“No, they won’t,” he said in a horridly reasonable voice that made her want to hit him. “All sorts of people live there, all colors, all sizes, shapes and races. I’ll fit right in, I promise. And I’ll be very careful, so there’s no need for you to worry.”
No need to worry,the man said, as if she were panicking needlessly over some minor possibility.
“Now, I’ve already booked my passage, so there’s no point arguing.” He opened the door and started down the stairs.
She followed, furious, bubbling with frustration. Why did he have to be so wretchedlynoble? Because he wasThomas, that’s why. “Well, in that case I hope you got us a nice big cabin.”
His head jerked around. “Us?You’re not going.”
She shrugged, as if it were a foregone conclusion. “Of course I am. If you’re going, I’m going.” With the long skirt of her riding habit draped over her arm, she swept past him on the stairs.
“No. Absolutely not. It’s far too dangerous for you.”
She made a dismissive gesture. “It’s even more dangerous for you.I’mnot the escaped slave in this family.”
He gave her a frustrated look. “I know what I’m doing, Rose.”
“Good. That’s all right, then. And since you’re sooo confident it’s completely safe, there’s no problem, is there?” She gave him a sweet, utterly hypocritical smile. “Now, what clothes should I take? It’s going to be hot, isn’t it? Perhaps I should have some light dresses made up.”
The front doorbell rang, the bell jangling in the nether regions of the house. “That will be Kirk.” She reached to open the door.
He pushed in front of her and gripped her by the shoulders. “Once and for all, you are not going to Mogador, Rose. I won’t allow it.”
“No, Thomas,” she said demurely. She could tell from his wary expression that he wasn’t sure whether she meant no-Thomas-I-won’t-go-to-Mogador, or no-Thomas-I-won’t-obey-you.
