Read Naughty in Nottinghamshire 02 - The Rogue Returns for Free Online Page B

horse, his every instinct attuned to the forest around them as if alert for trouble at any moment. She was very, very grateful he had arrived early for the gold.
    The rest, she would think about later when she was not so raw. “I would give anything to be back home in London right now with my eight thousand pounds.”
    “I don’t doubt that.” Roane’s voice was a deep rumble that vibrated through her bones. She liked it. Probably too much. “You could be shopping for another gown the perfect shade of puce.”
    “You are teasing me.”
    “Perhaps a bit. I should know better than to come between a woman and her love for fashion.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “But you have stopped shivering.”
    His nearness, and his breath against her sensitive skin, sent another round of shivers coursing through her for an altogether different reason.
    He said nothing more, just held her tight against him. She would never have thought she could doze while riding precariously high off the ground, but she must have. Suddenly, they were no longer moving, and she jerked awake. His arms were steel around her. “We’re here,” he rumbled.
    Helen lifted her head and looked at the dark forest. Here didn’t appear any different than the last few hours of terrain. Roane hopped down, then reached up for her. His hands were warm and spanned her waist as he easily lowered her to the earth. She quickly stepped away from the horses and their sharp teeth and fierce kicks.
    “Your bonnet, my lady.” He handed her a warped, muddy, sorry excuse for a bonnet. Apparently, she’d forgotten it at the clearing and Roane had dragged it behind the horses all night.
    “Thank you.” A lady always remembered her manners, even when her last bonnet had been ruined.
    “There is a cave just up the hill.” He nodded toward the steep incline beside them. “We’ll sleep there.”
    “Pardon me?” Could this night get any worse? A cave? With bats? And snakes? “Tell me you jest.”
    He removed the saddlebags from his horse. “I do not jest. It’s the safest place I know in these woods.”
    Tossing the saddlebags over his shoulder, he started up the hill. Helen lifted her muddy skirts and followed. Tears burned behind her eyes but she was not going to cry. She’d survived days of digging, being abandoned by her servants, and the horror of a cold knife against her throat. Surely she could survive a cave.
    “Come along.” Roane turned and grabbed her hand, then hauled her up a particularly slick section of the hill. The mouth of the cave loomed dark and terrible behind him.
    Muttering a curse worthy of her brothers, she followed him into the black mouth of doom. He stepped deeper into the cave, away from the splashing rain, and shook the water from his hair and clothes. Then he rummaged through his bags and withdrew a carefully folded bit of leather containing a tallow candle and tinderbox. With much grumbling, he struck the crosier against the tinder and was able to light the linen wick of the candle. An eerie glow illuminated the cave, sending monsters and beasts flickering in every shadow.
    “Come, Helen. I cannot let anyone see this light.”
    “Are there snakes?”
    The scuff of his footsteps echoed against the stone walls as he stepped away from her, taking the light. “No. The cave is empty.”
    “Bats?”
    “No, come away from the entrance.”
    She bit her lip and picked her way through the burnt logs scattered near the mouth of the cave. “Might we have a fire as well?”
    “No.” The candlelight flickered over Roane’s features. He looked almost haunted as he inspected the stone walls. He dropped his saddlebags and turned to her. “We will bed down for the night here. Are your clothes damp? I don’t want you catching a chill.”
    “I am warm in your cloak. Are you—”
    “I’m fine.” He rummaged through his bag, then stuffed a roll of wool in her hands. “Use my bedroll if you get cold, but try not to get it