then flicked his whiskers over Slater’s mouth. When Nora looked up to share her amusement with Lennox, she could see that his thoughts were far away.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
He drew a short breath. “We know this man is a criminal, and the authorities should arrest him, but what crime can he be charged with tonight? There must not be a possibility that they will release him.”
Even as he spoke, the front door opened, and Joan Farthing appeared, with Lord Fairhaven at her side. Following them was a burly fellow carrying a lantern, a bell, and a pike slung over one shoulder. Nora recognized him as Barnaby, the night watchman who patrolled the area surrounding Cockspur Court. Barnaby held out his lantern, scanning the small room, and scowled.
“What’s all this?” he shouted, indicating Sir Raymond Slater.
Slater, who seemed to be reviving, mumbled, “Help! I am a…nobleman!”
Barnaby glared at Robin and the others. “Is that true?”
“Sir Raymond Slater may indeed be a knight,” Lennox allowed, “but he’s also a thief—and worse. When the king learns of his crimes, even he will agree the man must be punished.”
“What crimes, then?”
Nora intervened. Stepping close to Slater, she reached into his jerkin pocket and drew out her tapestry purse. “I made this purse myself. You can see my mark on it.” She crossed to the watchman and pointed to her small N, woven into one corner. “All my savings are contained inside this purse, and Sir Raymond Slater stole it. Not only that, he attempted to force himself on me, much against my will.”
Barnaby looked around at Robin. “Lord Fairhaven, do you support the accusations of Widow Lovejoy?”
All of Nora’s friends joined to stand beside her. “Every one of us does,” Robin asserted.
“Then this is a matter for the courts,” declared Barnaby. “I’ll summon the authorities to take Sir Raymond to Newgate, where he will await trial.”
“What will happen then?” Nora asked.
Barnaby shrugged. “Stealing is often punishable by death. As a nobleman, Sir Raymond might mercifully be beheaded rather than hanged.” The watchman glanced toward the prisoner before adding, “Many thieves’ heads are displayed on pikes along London Bridge.”
Amidst the general commotion in the room, Lennox drew Nora off to one side. “We have wasted enough time with that villain. I want to be alone with ye, love. Come away with me to Weston House.”
“Oh, yes, please.” His nearness kindled a flame inside Nora, casting out all the dark moments of that day. “When can we leave?”
“Now.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, his eyes full of promise. “Is that soon enough?”
Chapter 31
In the dead of night, Weston House was still. Only Lennox was awake.
When he and Nora had fallen into bed, they hadn’t bothered to close the draperies, and now moonbeams streamed through the mullioned windows overlooking the River Thames.
The light silvered her naked body as she lay in his arms. His nose grazed the back of her neck, still damp from their lovemaking. Was she sleeping at last? His own emotions consumed him.
His gaze swept over her, lingering on the increased swell of her belly. When he thought about the babe growing inside her, Lennox was filled with wonder and a tangle of more conflicted emotions. He loved her, and loved her babe, yet his heart instinctively fisted whenever he remembered that the villainous Sir Raymond Slater was the father. When Lennox and Nora were able to make babes of their own, would he love this one any less?
As he considered this, Lennox recalled something he had said to the Duke of Hastings, his own birth father:
“I don’t think any less of myself for being born a bastard. In fact, I had nothing to do with it.”
It came to him that this babe inside Nora was as innocent as he himself had been. He thought of Magnus, the man he had called Da all his life, who had carried him on his shoulders when he was a bairn and taught him how to sail a galley. Da, who had talked to him about the right way to be with a lass, no matter what other lads might suggest. Da, who learned along the way that he hadn’t fathered Lennox after all yet had continued to do his best to love him anyway.
Tears burned his eyes and he drew a painful breath.
“What is it?” whispered Nora. She turned halfway in his embrace, looking up at him with luminous blue eyes.
“’Tis nothing. Ye need sleep, lass.”
“There will be other nights