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“I can’t go with you, Ian. I am needed home. And I am sick.”

“I can see that you’re sick. And that’s why I can’t leave you,” he whispered as he continued to deftly undress her until she was standing in her single chemise and stockings by the hearth. He handed her a clean male shirt. “Here. Wear this for the night. Then climb onto the bed. I’ll leave your chemise to dry by the hearth.”

Helen turned away, and slowly, with shaking fingers took off her chemise. She quickly wrapped herself in the cold shirt, her heart beating rapidly, trying to warm her entire body. “You can arrange a carriage for me. Or even leave me here. If Jarvis finds me, he will escort me home. He won’t hurt me.”

Ian shook his head. “I can’t risk that. Now lie down.”

He picked up the coverlet from the bed and brought it over to the hearth, warming it by the fire. Helen climbed onto the bed, too tired to argue. She tried nonetheless. “I am needed in London.”

He walked toward her and wrapped her in a warmed coverlet. “You’re needed here, too. With me. If they catch you, they can use you against me.”

“They won’t.” Helen shook her head for emphasis.

“You’re so weak. Do you truly think I shall leave you here alone? Or send you off in a rickety old carriage all by yourself? You must be mad.”

Helen closed her eyes. She would argue with him tomorrow. All strength had left her by now. “I am cold,” she whispered weakly.

There was a sound of shuffling clothing, and then Ian climbed next to her and wrapped her in his arms, his body warming hers from the bottom of her toes to the top of her head. “I am not letting you go, my bonnie Helen. Now sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Helen closed her eyes, hoping that he wasn’t lying, but somehow doubting she would have any strength to argue with him tomorrow or any time soon.

Chapter 19

Helen’s body was hot to the touch.

Helen had spent the entire night tossing and turning, whimpering and moaning in agony. What in the hell was going on with her?

He’d seen her weak before, he’d seen her panicking and stressed, but this was something else entirely.

Was this what people talked about when they said she was sickly? Because whatever it was that was making Helen ill, it was terrible and it was nothing he’d ever seen before. Her skin was dry and angry red patches started to appear on her hands, cheeks, and nose.

But that wasn’t the worst thing. By the way she moved during the night, turning this way and that, not finding a comfortable position, he could tell she was in a great deal of pain.

For a moment, Ian questioned if it would be better for them to stay here, in this safe house until she got better. But that was it, wasn’t it? He didn’t know when she would get better.

He knew from stories and gossip that she randomly disappeared from social events for months. And Ian didn’t have months.

Even if he delayed the trip for a few days, it gave more chances for their pursuers to catch them. He could not call a doctor for her either. The word would spread quickly of their whereabouts and that he couldn’t risk.

Perhaps, he should leave her behind…

No! That wasn’t even an option. Even if he found someone in the nearby village to look after her, he could not guarantee that she would be well taken care of.

He couldn’t guarantee that she would be well taken care of with him either. But he’d do his best, and he couldn’t say the same about anyone else.

Ian cursed under his breath and went on to prepare for the road.

He got an unmarked carriage from the ‘housekeeper’ of this safe house—a retired operative tasked to look after this place and keep it stocked with food and clean sheets—and hired an old man to drive them to Leicester.

He bought some laudanum, in case Helen’s pain became unbearable, but since he didn’t know the nature of her ailment, he couldn’t guess what else he could do for her.

He cursed Helen for not telling him more about her illness. When she’d gotten weak and tired before, he’d thought it was the worst that it could get. He cursed himself for not asking more. But the curses didn’t help. All he could do was make certain that Helen was comfortable now, or as comfortable as their journey and her illness would allow.

He bought some food for the road, a few blankets, and simple, woolen clothing for Helen and himself for the first leg of the trip. These clothes were far easier to put on and take off, and they would help them disguise themselves as commoners.

He returned to the cottage after all the arrangements had been made and looked at Helen’s limp body.

“I am sorry for dragging you into this chaos,” he whispered and pressed his lips to her temple. Her skin was still hot to the touch. “I am sorry I lied to you.”