Free Sea of Fire by Carol Caldwell Page B

but naturally, it’s not a concern of yours.”
    “Aye, you’re right there, but after seeing the beautiful work you do, I’d hate for anything to happen to my sweet forger.”
    Christian silently backed away from the door. He had heard all he wanted to for now. Where Adam fit into this, he still was unsure. Elizabeth Corry, however, would have a surprise when she arrived at White’s Inn.
    * * * *
    The old wooden staircase of White’s Inn creaked with every step Elizabeth took. A few more steps, another few feet, and she’d be at the door to her room. God in heaven, she was exhausted.
    Roderick had watched over her the entire time she had drawn the pattern for his latest counterfeit coin. To her relief, he was thrilled by the exactness of her drawing. Consequently, her father would not suffer.
    She reached into her robe for the key to her room.
    “Friar, please, I need to talk,” came a voice from the shadows.
    God in heaven. Not again. Not this time. She was too tired. She rested her forehead against the door. “I’m sorry,” she spoke into the door but addressed the voice. “Please. Can we speak in the morn. I’m too sleepy. In this condition, I would be of no help to you.”
    “Afraid not, Sister Friar.”
    She spun around towards the recognizable voice. “You. What are you doing here? Why are you following me?” she angrily said to Christian.
    “It’s you who have the answering to do.” His gaze wandered from her face to where her bosom and hips would be beneath the friar’s robe.
    “I think not,” she proceeded to unlock her door when he grabbed the key from her.
    “You’re coming with me.”
    “I’ll scream.”
    “Go ahead. What do you think the innkeeper or anyone else would do when they saw a woman dressed as a friar? Not a damn thing. Especially if I were to tell them you escaped from the asylum, and I have orders to bring you back.”
    She considered his words and knew she’d have no friend in the innkeeper or anyone else. If she hoped to return to this inn with her activities unknown, she’d have to go with no fuss or attention drawn to her.
    “Can I at least retrieve my portmanteau?”
    Christian nodded. Together they entered her room. She gathered the item, and they left the inn.
    “Where are you taking me?” she asked once they were seated opposite each other in Christian’s carriage.
    “To my town house.”
    “Why?”
    “Because that’s where I want you. You’re going to tell me the truth and give me some answers. That’s where you’ll stay until you do.”
    When the sun never sets, she thought and glanced at the man, ready to tell him so, until she saw the glare in his amber-colored eyes. God in heaven, one need only view the man’s eyes to gauge the depth of his emotions. He relaxed against the carriage back with his legs widely spread. The gesture made her uncomfortable. She folded her arms across her chest, swallowed and stared out the window.
    She needed time to think of yet another reason for what truly had to appear odd to him—a woman in friar’s garb.
    “Please. I’m so tired. Can it not wait until morn? I beg you, please.” She gave him what she hoped was her most pathetic face.
    He let out a heavy breath. “It can wait. I warn you, though. You’ll be my prisoner until you tell me everything—until you are totally honest with me.”
    “Aye, Mr. Traynor,” she amicably answered, “And I will be.” But not just yet. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the side panel of the carriage, confident that by morn his prisoner would be gone.
    A short while later, the carriage stopped. She opened her eyes, and Christian motioned for her to exit the carriage before him.
    It was deadly quiet outdoors. The earlier mist had turned to a soft rain. She hurriedly followed Christian up the stairs and almost bumped into him when he abruptly halted, once they were inside.
    “I’ve given my housekeeper and manservant some time off. We’ll be alone. Follow