ago accepted the risks he must run, but Bess’ neck was too pretty to be stretched by the hangman’s noose.
“You are not sleeping?” Bess’ voice tickled his ear and her warm hand stretched around his body, hugging him tightly to her. “What is on your mind?”
“I should be out on the road tonight, not curled up in a warm bed with you.” Guilt made his voice short.
“Are your pockets that empty already?” She gave a sleepy chuckle and nuzzled into his neck. “For sure, you have not emptied them on my account. You have not bought me so much as a length of ribbon for my hair.”
True enough, he had given her nothing but a few pretty words in exchange for her innocence. She had made a poor bargain of it. “Do ribbons matter so much to you?”
“What use is having a highwayman for a lover if he wil not buy me presents?” she teased. “I had just as wel take up with a farmer lad who cannot look beyond his plough.”
His hand curled around her fingers and held her fast.
“You would be better off with a farmer’s lad than with me.
He would be able to give you many things I cannot.”
She gave a contented sigh and wriggled her body close to his, her lush breasts pressed against his back. “I don’t care about ribbons or other presents. Or about farmer lads, either. I only care to have you in bed beside me.”
That was one thing he dared not give her. “I cannot dal y another night. I must be away come morning.” If he did not leave soon, he would lose any desire to go at al . That would be a fatal mistake. With a price such as he had on his head, staying more than a night or two in one place was as good as putting a gun to his own head and squeezing the trigger.
“Your pockets real y must be to let.” Her body stiffened against his almost imperceptibly and her voice was noticeably cooler. “What’s the vice that empties them so quickly that you must be off robbing coaches every night with nary a break in between times to catch your breath?
Gambling? Drinking? Or women more demanding of presents than I am?”
“I wil not be robbing coaches forever.”
“I have no doubt of that.” By now her voice was tart enough to curdle milk. “Jack Ketch wil catch up with you eventual y and stretch your neck on the gal ows.”
“I am going to the Americas.” The words slipped out before he had the sense to stop them. “The next ship leaves in a sennight and I shal be on it. Once I reach the Americas, I shal become an honest man and work for my bread in an honest trade.”
She sniffed disbelievingly. “If you do not hang before then.”
His face twisted in a grimace. “You need only send word and a posse of soldiers wil be waiting at the ship to take me away in chains.” Would he never learn that his safety lay in silence? Women, of al creatures, were not to be trusted. He ought to know better than to entrust his plans even to his lover. Especial y not to his lover.
“I would not do that to you, Jack. You should know you can trust me that far.” Her hand was warm on his chest, caressing the wariness out of him. He wished he could believe her. “But stil I fear for your safety.”
So did he. A careless word in the wrong ear and Bess might have him hanged, for al she might not mean to.
“Must you rob more coaches?”
“I have no other trade, no skil but my knowledge of horseflesh.”
“What wil you do in the Americas, then, if you have no skil s? Take to robbing coaches there?”
“In the Americas, I can be what I please—no one would raise an eyebrow were I to set up as a wealthy horse-dealer in Boston or Virginia. But Jack Hal is too wel -known in England as a highwayman to be anything else.” He turned to face her, taking her hands in his. “Another lucky strike and I wil have enough gold to keep me honest for the rest of my life.”
“Take me to the Americas with you.” Her words were a whisper