Never Less Than A Lady | Herophine

Chapter Twelve

Hero

After Mrs Gowan swept Josephine away, Jack finished his port and got to his feet. "I'll take my leave now. There's a gaming house I need to inspect."

"Keep a tight hand on your purse," Oliver advised.

When Jack was gone, Hero said, "Is he visiting on your official, or your unofficial, business?"

"A little of both. Plus some of his official business." Oliver grinned. "We aren't all as straightforward as you."

"War reduces life to basics." Hero thought of what lay ahead. "Matters are more complex now that I'm out of the army."

Oliver leaned back in his chair and laced he lingers together on his midriff. "Are you as confident that you can tame your uncle as you appeared?"

"No, but I thought I might as well appear confident until events prove otherwise." Hero's smile was ironic. "No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. Damien is capable of reason, but it's also possible that he'll pull a pistol from his desk and take aim. I can handle that. Hired assassins in dark alleys are harder to guard against. For Josephine's sake, I hope the danger can be removed. She's suffered enough because of The Tiffin family."

Oliver's eyes narrowed. "I never met Xander, and you never talked about him. He was that bad?"

"Worse." Hero knew he could never fully understand what it was like to be a young girl at Xander's mercy. Josephine had been scarcely more than a child. But he knew enough of his cousin to be chilled at the thought of what she'd endured.

"Would you welcome an excuse to kill Damien?" Oliver asked quietly.

Frowning, Hero considered the question. His uncle had refused to acknowledge or check his son's cruelties. Because of that, Hero and Josephine had both suffered at Xander's hands. And of course, there was Damien's desire to let his nephew die of neglect. "Perhaps I would. But the provocation would have to be great ."

"I shall hope that he can be tamed. If you have to kill him, it would be the damnedest scandal."

"You have a gift for understatement." Hero refilled their glasses. "Before I forget, thanks for your support. We could have married in Gretna Green, but I didn't want this to be a hole-in-corner wedding."

Oliver swirled his port glass without drinking. "I think highly of Josephine, but are you sure this marriage is wise? She seems a rather uncertain bride."

"Which is why we're in Scotland," Hero said wryly. "She's only willing to marry me if she's sure there's a way out."

Oliver relaxed. "I should have realized you were aware of her misgivings."

"If there was time I'd court her in the usual way, but that isn't possible. I can best protect her if she's my wife." Which was true. But he wondered if his courtship would have been successful if she hadn't been in fear of her life. He suspected not.

"Still the knight in shining armour, I see." The other man hesitated. "Though she needs and deserves protection, sacrificing your future is not the only solution."

"Marriage is no sacrifice on my part," Hero said flatly. "She has not been out of my mind since the first moment we met."

Oliver studied him. "Then it is better to marry than to burn." He raised his glass. "May you both find the happiness you deserve. Preferably with each other."

Herk could drink to that. Especially the latter part.

Josephine

Josephine was working at the writing desk in her room when she heard quiet footsteps accompanied by the tap of a cane. Hero was coming up to bed. He would be able to see the light under her door. Would he come in to say good night?

She was pleased when he knocked on the door. "Come in," she called as she rose from her chair to greet him. "I'm making lists. Mrs Gowan suggests that we marry two days from now? With a wedding breakfast here after the ceremony."

"Very good." He glanced as his travel-stained garments. "I need to find myself some decent clothes. Maybe I can borrow something of Oliver's. We're around the same size." He smiled a little. "You haven't decided to take flight? Every time I see you, I'm half-surprised that you haven't slipped away."

Though he spoke as if it was a joke, she recognized his underlying seriousness. "I am nervous," she admitted. "But I give my word that I won't run away. You're my best chance of a normal life."

That surprised a laugh from him. "I'm not sure if I'm pleased or alarmed to be seen as normal."

"You should be pleased."

"Then I will be. Sleep well, Josephine." He started to turn away.

"Wait." She rose on her toes and gave him a good-night hug, her arms sliding under his coat. His cane fell to the floor with a clatter as he hugged her back, strong arms enfolding her.

Though they'd slept together for two nights, this was the first time they'd embraced while standing. "Mmmh..." she breathed as she leaned into him, resting her head on one broad shoulder. She felt the beat of his heart, the rhythm of his breathing, the hard muscle and bone beneath her gently caressing hands. "This would be more convenient if I were taller."

"I think you fit very nicely." He stroked her head, his fingers kneading gently. She didn't realize that pins were falling out until her hair fell around her shoulders.

"You have extremely passable hair," he murmured as he ran his fingers through it.

She laughed a little, feeling feminine and attractive and-unafraid. Hero made her feel safe. As Hartley's unofficial physician, she'd cut and sewed and patched male bodies, but embracing a healthy man was very different.

His hands smoothed down her arms to her back, making gentle circles. "I'm glad you're getting used to my touch," he murmured.

"I like your touch." Which was quite amazing, really. But true. She wasn't sure how long they held each other. A long time, though not long enough. Hero seemed as content to be peaceful as she was. Thank God he wasn't a lustful, pawing boy. It was becoming ever easier to imagine a marriage of affection and companionship.

Finally, he sighed and released her. "I'll be asleep on my feet in another few minutes." He bent and retrieved his cane, barely wincing as he bent his right leg. "Good night, milady."

There was a caressing tone in his voice that made her feel like a cat being petted. Regretting his departure, she said, "Only two more nights in separate beds."

He paused, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She withdrew a little, not ready for that much intimacy.

Perceptive, he brushed a kiss on her forehead. Light. Unthreatening. "I'll sleep better knowing you're not going to run away."

He was gone before she could say that she no longer wanted to run from him.