Read The Care and Taming of a Rogue Online
Authors: Suzanne Enoch
Though she would have preferred a place with doors that could be locked and barricaded, it actually didn’t matter where she was, as long as she could keep hidden from Langley and his men. As long as she could stay free and out of Scotland until Bennett arrived.
No, it wasn’t much of a plan, but hopefully that meant Langley wouldn’t have much of a response. Hiding behind a trio of boulders in the middle of rugged Cumbria was certainly the least logical thing she’d ever done. At the edges of her mind, though, she was rather surprised that she wasn’t panicking. She was planning, thinking—where to go next, which way to turn if one of them detected her. She couldn’t say she was enjoying herself, but it was certainly…invigorating.
Having read Bennett’s previous books she knew about leaving tracks, and so as soon as she could she’d begun moving from rock to rock and along the fallen trunks of trees. It wasn’t perfect, but it should make her trail more difficult to detect.
At the moment the most troubling realization was that she was already cold. If she managed to stay free until past nightfall, the chill in the air would become even more worrisome. In the dark, however, she might well be able to move closer to the road and find the inn—if she could figure out in which direction, precisely, the road lay.
“Flip,” Langley’s carrying voice came, not for the first time, “this is ridiculous. I said I wouldn’t harm you.”
From the sound he was several hundred feet away, and he wasn’t happy. But then, she hadn’t answered him in the better than two hours she’d been running. At least she thought it had been that long. He seemed to love the sound of his own voice, so she let him indulge himself.
Abruptly a hand reached between two of the boulders and grabbed her arm. “I’ve got her, Captain!”
With a shriek Phillipa tore away, leaving part of her sleeve behind. She grabbed up the satchel and began running again. Heavy boots pounded behind her, and she veered sideways to leap through a narrow gap in the trees.
“Phillipa!”
Her heart crashed into her ribs at the familiar voice. “Bennett!” she screamed, but kept running. He would be behind her somewhere, but she couldn’t allow herself to get caught. Not now.
A rock shifted from beneath her foot and she stumbled, rolling forward to keep from losing momentum. As she came upright, though, she suddenly realized that momentum was the last thing she wanted. Phillipa dug her heels into the earth, twisting and grabbing onto a tree root as she continued to skid forward.
Inches in front of her, the landscape opened up. Two hundred feet below her toes, a large lake rested at the foot of the cliff. Beyond that, she thought she could see all of Cumbria.
Still clinging to the tree, she faced back the way she’d come. Arnold, the liveried tiger, leapt over a boulder and came straight at her. Before she could yell at him to stop or he’d kill both of them, another figure launched through the air from one side.
Bennett slammed into Arnold’s rib cage, taking him into the ground with a sickening thud. Twisting quickly onto one knee, he lifted his knife.
“Don’t kill him!”
He looked up at her, his jungle-colored eyes direct and distant. “Why not?” he snarled.
“Because you don’t need to. And because he was following orders.”
With a curse Bennett straightened, shoving the knife back into his boot. He grabbed up the rifle that had landed beside him and began scrambling toward her. “Come here,” he said, glancing at the edge of the cliff just beyond her. He held out his free hand.
A sob ripped from her chest. She’d known he would come, but he’d arrived at the exact right moment. “I’m very glad to see you,” she said shakily.
“Not so fast.”
Above Bennett on the cluster of boulders, Langley appeared. He also held a rifle, and it was pointed at the back of Bennett’s head. Phillipa froze. She’d been frightened before, but now…now she was terrified. For him. For Bennett.
“We seem to have a problem, Wolfe,” Langley said coolly.
“Give it a minute,” Bennett returned in that low, deadly voice he’d used a moment ago. “You won’t have any problem ever again.”
“That’s very brave, but considering that my driver has your friends pinned down and I have a weapon aimed at you, perhaps you should rephrase that.”
“I’m going to kill you. Is that any better?”
“Bennett, stop it,” Phillipa ordered shakily. “This is over with, David. Lower the rifle, and we’ll all go our separate ways. We’ll never speak of this again. You have my word.”
“And you, Bennett?”
“I’d rather kill you.”
Phillipa wanted to grab Bennett and shake him, though she could more easily move a mountain. “Give him your damned word, Bennett.”
A muscle in his cheek jumped. “You have my damned word,” he echoed.
“Well, that’s a start,” Langley put in, his expression easing a little, “but I have one more condition.”
“No m—”
“What is it?” Phillipa interrupted.
“Throw that satchel over the cliff, Flip. Then neither of you will have any proof of the other thing, and I’ll sleep much better.”
Bennett looked from Phillipa’s exhausted, dirt-and sweat-streaked face to the satchel over her shoulder. His journals. She’d not only escaped Langley, but she’d taken his journals with her. God, she was remarkable. And in comparison to a life with her and a life without her, nothing in that satchel mattered worth a damn. “Drop them,” he said.
Phillipa furrowed her brow. “You’d let them go?”
Langley shifted behind him, and he tensed, ready to move. “You heard Wolfe, my dear. Drop them. Now. Or I’ll put a bullet through
your
head, and you’ll drop them, then.”
“Langley, if you do anything—
anything
—to hurt her—”
“Shut up. I’m negotiating with the chit, now. I assume she’ll be more reasonable than you are.”
Phillipa’s gaze, though, remained on Bennett’s face, as though she hadn’t even heard Langley speak. “Your reputation. You’ll never lead another expedition.”
The animal anger that had pushed him through the last hours broke apart, and he straightened. “Phillipa,
you
are my adventure.”
“Don’t make me ill,” Langley said.
Bennett shook his head, willing her to understand. “I’ve been searching my entire life for something to make me want to stay in one place. For someone to be my…My home is where your heart is, Phillipa. Let the satchel go.”
Slowly she pulled the strap off over her head. “You’re certain?”
“I’m certain.”
Taking a deep breath, Phillipa held the satchel up over empty space.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Langley said unexpectedly. “Hold for a second. I want to see Bennett’s face when you let it go.” He moved off the rocks, limping badly as he came around the front of them. At least the damned gun was pointed at Bennett again, he reflected, where it should have been all along. “Much better. Swing it out wide, and then let it drop. Now, Flip.”
Bennett didn’t watch them go. He kept his gaze on Langley. But he heard it. He heard Phillipa’s small gasp as she released her hold, heard Langley’s deeper sigh of satisfaction. And he saw Langley’s attention shift away from him for a fraction of a second as the satchel dropped.
He leapt forward, slamming his shoulder into the side of the rifle and sending it skidding. With his momentum he took Langley to the ground, curled his hand into a fist, and struck.
Langley kicked up at him, but he simply took the blow. It didn’t matter. He hit the captain again, squarely in the face. Then he did it a third time.
“Bennett, stop!”
“My word doesn’t count,” he snarled, letting Langley up only so he could smash him down again. “He pointed a weapon at you.”
She grabbed his arm, pulling against him. “Stop it! No killing anyone for me!”
He ignored her, until Sommerset and Jack scrambled into view and threw themselves on top of him, pulling him off Langley. “Enough, Bennett. Stop!” the duke ordered. “It’s done.”
Langley crawled to a boulder and used it to pull himself into a seated position. Blood running freely down his face, he smiled anyway. “It
is
done. And I’ll have you arrested for assault. You have no proof that I’ve ever done anything ill to you.”
“You kidnaped Flip,” Jack broke in.
“You think she’ll admit to that? It’ll ruin her reputation.”
Bennett turned his back on Langley to find Phillipa. He gazed at her for a hard beat of his heart, then pulled her into his arms. “You’re not hurt?” he asked roughly, burying his face in her tangled hair.
She nodded against his shoulder. “I knew you would come for me,” she said in a muffled voice. “I had to stay out of Scotland until you came.” Phillipa pushed back from him just enough to free one hand. Tangling her fingers into his hair, she pulled his face down to kiss him. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you.” He gazed into her eyes. “You are my heart. Do you understand that? There is no me without you.” There was only that rogue, that animal who couldn’t think of anything but survival and revenge.
“Yes.”
“The next time you have to drop something of mine to save yourself, do it, for God’s sake.”
“But I didn’t.” She kissed him again.
Bennett scowled. Still refusing to release her, he lifted his head a little. “You didn’t what?”
“Drop them.”
“They went over the bloody cliff,” Langley chortled. Jack kicked him in his wounded leg, and the captain yelped again.
Phillipa turned her head to look down at Langley. “Your books went over the cliff. I hid Bennett’s journals up there in the rocks.”
“You…” Bennett snorted, then lifted her into the air, bringing her back down for another kiss. “You are a remarkable chit,” he murmured, brushing his fingers through her hair. “But my decision doesn’t change. I’m finished with traveling.”
She laughed against his mouth. Of course she was happy to hear that. And he was happy, as well. Happier than he could ever recall being in his life. Because of her.
“May I make a request?” she said in a low tone, a smile in her voice.
“Anything.”
“Might we continue on to Scotland? If you mean to propose to me, of course.”
Truly startled, he glanced over at Jack, who shrugged. “She
is
ruined.”
Sommerset was actually smiling. “Go to it. We’ll deal with this, and your journals. I have a man or two with the
London Times
who will be willing to make threats—and follow through with them if necessary.”
“We’ll meet you back in London next week,” Bennett said, lifting Phillipa into his arms.
“You still have to ask me,” she commented, tears in her eyes.
At the top of the hill, he set her down, then sank onto one knee. All of the beautiful, rugged Lake District lay below them. “I meant to bring you red roses,” he began, his own voice catching.
Phillipa ran a finger along his cheek. “You already did that. Skip to the good part.”
He chuckled, digging into his pocket to pull out the ring. “Phillipa, my heart, my blood, my everything, will you for God’s and my sake marry me?”
She held out her hand, her fingers shaking. “Yes,” she breathed.
When he slipped the ring onto her finger, she collapsed against his chest, nearly sending them down the hill again. And he didn’t care. Everything was an adventure with his Phillipa. Everything.
Three weeks later
Phillipa sat on a comfortable sofa in the morning room of the small house Bennett had rented for them in London. They were supposed to have gone for a brunch with her family, but then Sommerset had sent over a note, and Bennett had gone off to see him. She’d informed Livi and her parents that they would be along shortly, but in the meantime she had some reading to do.
With a slow breath she pulled the journal onto her lap and opened it to where she’d left off. A few short weeks ago she would have devoured the nine books in two days, foregoing sleep and food until she’d read every last detail. How things had changed. She was only on the second journal, and she would be surprised if she finished it before the end of the week.
The front door opened, and she looked up as Bennett, Kero on his shoulder, strolled into the morning room. “Hello,” she said, smiling.
He set Kero onto a chair with an apple to occupy her and sank onto the couch beside Phillipa. “Hello,” he returned, and kissed her. “I attempted to bring you roses again, but Kero ate them.”
She laughed. “It
is
the most novel excuse ever. But you know I’m just as happy with the monkey.”
“Thank you for that.”
Phillipa took his hand, twisting her fingers around his. “Well, what did they say? Did they grovel?”
“There was no groveling, but at least three apologies. One of them was, I believe, sincere.”