To Edinburgh.” Rafe raised his glass, but Brodie only grunted in response. He knew he should take the girl back to her family, but as he had said, he was a wicked man, and now that he had tasted her, been with her, he wasn’t ready yet to let go of her. The only honest thing he could do now was take care of her as his mistress and make her as happy as he could.
Jackson Hunt was in a bloody rotten mess. The last two days of riding with Jane Russell had confused him. The beautiful widow was fiery and full of life and unapologetic about anything she did.
She’d drawn him in and he wanted things he had resigned himself to never having again. This was the worst time to be facing feelings like this. He needed to be worrying about his daughters. This whole terrible affair had been an alarming call for him to wake up. He had let Portia get away with far too much, and he had neglected Lydia dreadfully. Until he rescued Lydia from that dangerous man, he could not rest, could not let himself be distracted—not even by the natural warmth and charm of someone like Jane Russell.
He risked a glance at her as his coach rolled through the streets of Edinburgh. She looked lovely in a dark-green gown, the bold color accenting her dark-red hair. She was twirling a pair of gloves between her fingers, and the soft tan kid material was as dainty as the hands that played with them.
“Jane . . .”
She turned to face him, her brows rising in silent question.
He wanted to tell her how lovely she looked. Part of him wanted to do something a younger, more reckless version of himself would have done, like kiss her, but he didn’t dare. Instead, he sought her advice.
“I’m afraid for my daughter. I’ve angered this Kincade fellow, and rightly so. I hired men to abduct him. I kept him a prisoner in my home. If we find them today, he and I may come to blows or end up dueling. Should the worst happen, may I trust you to take Lydia to safety? You will take her home, away from him?”
“Yes, of course. I will protect her as if she were my own child.” Jane’s words were spoken with such honesty that it left no room for doubt. And from what he knew of Lady Russell, his daughter would be very well looked after. “But it need not come to that,” Jane added. “I might be able to reason with the man. I’ve had years of practice dealing with stubborn men who have no desire to listen to reason.”
He relaxed a little as she smiled. He believed she was capable of doing exactly what she said.
The coach finally came to a stop in front of a lovely townhouse near Edinburgh Castle on a long, sloping street called the Royal Mile.
“This must be it.” Jackson opened the coach door, his stomach in knots at the thought of Lydia being held within the house. He gently grasped Jane by the waist and lowered her to the ground before they walked up the steps together. He rapped the iron knocker on the door and waited. After a moment, the door opened and a butler stood there, peering at them in surprise.
“May I help you?” the butler asked.
“We would like to pay a call on Mr. Rafe Lennox and Mr. Brodie Kincade.”
The butler frowned in confusion. “I’m terribly sorry, sir, his lordship’s brother has not been here for several months.”
Jackson wasn’t expecting that answer. He had been so certain that this was where the wild chase would end. That he would find his Lydia here and take her home.
“They aren’t here,” Jane murmured. “He looks as startled as we are.”
The butler continued to stare at them in polite confusion, and Jackson saw a gleam of cunning in Jane’s eye.
“We are friends of Lord Lennox and his brother, Mr. Lennox,” Jane said quickly, her tone polite and gentle as she spoke to the butler. “We were told that Mr. Lennox was headed this way and that we must be here to meet him. But it seems we have arrived too early. Would you mind terribly sending a note to this address?” She handed the butler a crisp slip of paper. “Please let us know when Mr. Lennox and Mr. Kincade arrive.”
The butler examined the address and nodded. “Of course, madam.”
“Thank you.” She took Jackson’s arm,