Rescued By A Viscount(52)

“It was for the best,” she said defiantly, crossing her arms.

“For whom? Did you think I would wake to find you gone and think, well that’s that, then. Claire’s gone–I shall now return to London and enjoy the season?” Simon’s voice was a furious growl as he glared at her. “You thought I wouldn’t worry what had become of you? That I would not wonder if you’d made it to Liverpool to collect the child? And what if trouble had befallen you? Who would have known where you were? Certainly not your family, as they believe you are safely nestled at Stratton with your dearest friend.”

His words made the color leech from her face.

“Think with your head, Claire. Think rationally before doing anything else rash, I beg of you.”

Tears fell silently down her cheeks as she looked at him. “I don’t want you hurt anymore, Simon. I couldn’t bear it. I thought if I reached Liverpool and collected the child, I could be back in London before you caught up with me.”

“Do you know what would hurt me more than these?” he asked, lifting a hand to the bruises on his face.

“No.” Her voice was husky as she wiped away tears with her gloves.

“Hearing that some man had hurt you, or that you were lost and alone with no one to turn to. Those things would hurt more than any pain a fist could cause.”

She pressed her hands into her eyes to try to stem the flow of tears.

“I have been cold with fear since I woke. Had the proprietor’s wife not been beside him this morning when I confronted him, I would have, in all likelihood, killed him for letting you leave alone.”

“You sh-should not be involved in this, Simon.”

He blew out a loud sigh that made his ribs ache.

“I am involved, Claire. Why can’t you see that?”

She started to say something, but instead, her words turned into a sob.

“I’m not leaving you. I will see you and the child safely back to London and it would be in your best interests to accept that,” Simon said.

She wanted to talk, but every time she tried, another sob came out.

“Come here, Claire.” Her tears were undoing him, causing his own eyes to itch. “Please,” he added, holding out his arms to her. Suddenly, she flew at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close as she wept. And he, for the first time since she’d left him, felt peace. Nestling her into his body, they sat that way until Ben knocked on the door. Only then did he put her on the seat beside him. Opening the door, he took the food, and soon the carriage was once again on the road to Liverpool.

“Remove that offensive coat and bonnet, Claire. You look like you’re in mourning,” Simon said as he bit into a pie, the warm meat and gravy doing admirable things to restore his spirits.

She was too tired to fight him, so she first took off her gloves, then the bonnet, and finally, the cloak.

“Eat this now, and then you can sleep.”

Taking the pie, she looked at him. “Are you finished ordering me about?”

“No.” Simon didn’t smile as she rolled her eyes.

They ate in silence, then he grabbed her cape and bundled it into a pillow before placing it behind his head. Easing back against it, he let out a relieved sigh. “At least I have found a use for it.” She tried to resist as he reached for her, but Simon simply wrapped both arms around her and settled her against his chest, where he knew she fit perfectly.

“Henry sang to me last night,” she said when her head rested under his chin.

“Who’s Henry?” Simon pulled the ribbon from her plait, and then he then slowly unraveled it.

“The innkeeper’s son. He had the voice of an angel.”

Her words were sounding slurred now, as if she had been overindulging, and he knew in seconds, she would be asleep. “Let’s hope he has his mother’s brains, as well.”

She snuffled into his chest. “It took me ages to plait that.”

“I’ll re-plait it. Now sleep, Claire.”

“Will you sing to me, Simon?”

“No.”

She gave a tired sigh and placed one hand over his heart. Minutes later, she was asleep. Simon smoothed her hair out and then, kissing the top her head, he joined her.

That night was spent at another inn. This one was very quiet, and the proprietor was happy to accommodate all of Simon’s needs. Simon had a bath ordered for Claire and left the room to give her some privacy, although the maid had placed a screen around it. When he opened the door a fair bit later, he felt his heart sink. The room was empty. “Claire!”

He heard splashing and gasping from behind the screen. Relieved, he pressed a hand to his chest, where it thudded uncomfortably.