Pricing The Heart

Chapter 5

Perhaps he did not need a woman. Still, as David stared at her battered form on the bed that morning, he couldn't help but notice how much she needed him. He'd been deprived of slumber all night, disturbed by the thought of waking up to find her missing again. He feared what tragedy would have befallen her if he hadn't been present to rescue her from the claws of her husband. He knew what would happen once he let her out of his sight again, and for the life of him, he couldn't live with the guilt of another death on his hands.

Yet he feared the consequences of taking her home with him. He didn't wish for the rumors that would follow his decision. In fact, he feared the rumors. It was the one thing he feared the most, the one thing that had forced him to abandon his home in London and seek refuge in the countryside of Cheshire.

Releasing a breath, he rose to his feet. There was no use trying to find a solution to this problem on an empty stomach. He shrugged on his shoes and coat and left the room.

Loud murmurs trailed his movements through the dining hall. He stole a glance at the men in the room and recognized some from the auction yesterday. They were a scruffy lot. The thought of any of them with his woman caused his fingers to tighten their grip on his fork. He was suddenly thankful the woman hadn't followed him down to breakfast, for although he didn't desire her for himself, he didn't wish to have her defiled by the lustful stares of these men.

He thought of the man he'd bought the woman from. Beating him to an inch of his life last evening was not nearly as satisfying as the thought of leaving him out in the snow to die. But David had decided at the last minute to drag his unconscious body into the warm cottage.

David shoved the last piece of boiled egg into his mouth and stood. He arranged for a breakfast tray to be taken to the woman upstairs, then went to see about his footmen. He planned to be at his country home before noon today.

Once the arrangements were completed, he returned to his room to inform the woman of the trip. She was awake and by the dresser when he entered, her gray muslin dress now replaced by a fancier house dress. A white, delicate lace belt cinched the blue fabric to her waist, and when she spun around at the sound of his entrance, he saw how well the dress complimented her eyes. It was a good thing he had brought along her carpetbag from the night before, he thought, releasing his grip on the knob.

Her lips fell open, her hair falling with them as her hands fell to her sides.

"Good morning," he began.

Straightening, she clasped her hands before her. "Good morning, sir."

"I believe you slept well, given the eventful evening you had." He raised a brow, and color immediately sprang to her pale cheeks, brightening her features. He thought she looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

"I beg your pardon...what I did..." She bowed her head. "Forgive me."

David opened his mouth to say he understood her reason for stealing from him and that there was no need for an apology, but he decided against it. He didn't wish for her to think it was alright to steal from him, nor did he wish for a repeat of the atrocious act.

"It will be the first and last time you will ever take what is mine; my watch," he closed the distance between them, and taking her chin in his hand, forced her to look at him, "or yourself."

Fear clouded her eyes, and mentally, he scolded himself for the harshness of his words. He didn't wish to frighten her, nor liken her to an object that could be owned. But he didn't have a choice. The woman had proved more than once to be strong-willed. If fear would keep her from endangering her life by running off again, then so be it.