Free Captive of Sin by Anna Campbell

But this time, it clamored with approval.
    Wearing a coldly aloof expression, Gideon stood stock-still in the midst of the noisy mob. He looked like he had nothing but contempt for the congratulatory throng. His jaw was set, his lips thinned, his eyes veiled. He could never be less than handsome, but his frigid demeanor and stilted gestures repelled human warmth.
    “Where in God’s name is Tulliver?” Akash muttered beside Charis.
    “I haven’t seen him.” Charis craned her neck to observe Gideon. Curiosity and confusion warred in her mind. She thought she’d begun to understand the man who rescued her in Winchester. It turned out he was as unknown as the wastes of Greenland.
    His admirers didn’t seem to mind Gideon’s lack of welcome. They shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulders. All to a man looked at him as if he’d just stepped off Mount Olympus.
    Wheels clattered on cobblestones. A moving carriage forced people out of the way.
    A familiar carriage with a familiar driver.
    “About bloody time,” Akash said savagely, and wrapped an arm around Charis. “Come on. Run. And keep your head down.”
    He didn’t need to tell her. She had no wish for anyone to see her face. She scuttled at his side, floundering to keep up with a man who made no allowance for her shorter legs or her injuries. The mad dash stirred all her fading aches into sharp agony, so her head rang when she finally reached the carriage.
    Akash flung open the door and tossed her inside. She landed against the seat with a jolt that sent pain slicing through her. She stifled a cry and fisted her hands as she fought the giddiness. A breath hissed through her teeth. Another.
    The worst of her dizziness ebbed. Ignoring her discomfort, she slid across the seat to press her face to the carriage window.
    Both men were so tall, it was easy to locate them. Through the joyful hordes, Akash pushed his way toward his friend. Gideon retained that frozen, remote expression, but he didn’t break away from his devotees.
    She couldn’t hear what Akash said to Gideon over the hubbub. She saw Gideon turn and head with jerkily precise movements toward the carriage. With visible reluctance, the crowd parted before him. Voracious hands stretched out topluck at his clothing, delay his departure, compel his attention. Doggedly he continued his automaton-like progress.
    He climbed in and sat opposite. He didn’t speak. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t appear to know she was there at all.
    Akash slammed the door on them.
    “Aren’t you coming with us?” she asked frantically. Suddenly, Gideon seemed a frightening stranger.
    He shook his head. “I’m staying to see to the horses. I’ll follow in my own time.”
    There was a burst of patriotic cheering outside. Someone started to sing “God Save the King.” Clearly the locals were still stirred up at having a celebrity in their midst.
    The celebrity straightened and shot Akash an angry glare. “For Christ’s sake, let us go.”
    “God keep you, my friend. I’ll see you soon.” He stepped back and sent Charis an elegant bow. “Miss Watson. Your servant.”
    Before Charis could respond, Tulliver whipped the horses to a pace dangerous in town streets. The lurch of the carriage nearly threw Charis from her seat. She clutched at the strap and stared bewildered at her companion.
    He looked ill. As though he suffered intolerable pain. With a shock, she realized the set expression was endurance, not disdain.
    Automatically, she stretched out to take his gloved hand. “Sir Gideon…”
    “Curse you, don’t touch me!”
    He wrenched out of reach. But not before she felt his desperate, uncontrollable shaking.

Four
    T hrough the suffocating miasma, Gideon knew he’d frightened the girl. But conscience was a dim whisper against the screaming demons in his skull. He clutched his head with shaking hands to silence the howling devils. It didn’t help.
    Nothing ever helped.
    His sight failed, turning the