Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) by Michelle Willingham Page A

more. “I would gladly eat anything else. But I didn’t want the vicar’s wife to cook for us.”
    He didn’t ask why, but Margaret rolled her eyes. “The woman was insufferable. She took one look at my gown and decided that I was a useless young lady of the ton who couldn’t even boil water. And worst of all, she’s right.”
    Cain knew this was one of those conversations where any word he spoke would get him into trouble. To avoid an answer, he took another bite of the terrible soup.
    “I can’t do anything,” Margaret admitted. “I was raised to marry a duke or a marquess. I can plan menus and organize a dinner party. I can host a society event, but when it comes to surviving here, I’m useless.”
    “You’re still alive,” Cain felt compelled to point out. “You built a fire and tended my wounds. That’s no’ so verra useless, lass.”
    She sent him an incredulous look. “The only reason we have a fire is because I kept a torch burning from the coach accident. I couldn’t dare let it go out.”
    He took a deep breath and forced himself to move his legs to the side of the bed. It hurt like hell, but he wanted to sit up and face her. “You saved our lives, Margaret Andrews.”
    “I only returned the favor. We both would have died if you hadn’t helped me get out.”
    “We’re even then,” he told her. “And if you’re wanting to go and look for Amelia, that we’ll do.”
    She sobered at that. “I fear it’s too late to find her now, Mr. Sinclair. Even if she did come this way.”
    He didn’t like the defeated tone in her voice. This was the woman who had climbed atop a burning coach to save him. She’d already risked everything to save her sister, and he wasn’t about to give up. “We willna stop searching until we ken whether or no’ she’s safe. I promise you that, lass. We can leave in the morning, if you wish it.”
    When she didn’t answer, he offered, “Or I could take you back to London.” He wondered if her parents knew what had become of them. They’d been gone for so long, it surprised him that no one had come after them.
    “No, I don’t want to go back,” she said.
    “Does anyone ken where we are?”
    Margaret shook her head. “I should have sent word, but I didn’t want—” She let the thought drift away, but he pressed further.
    “You didna want what?”
    She took the bowl of soup from him, turning her back. “I didn’t want to face them yet. I should never have gone after Amelia, and I just . . . wanted to stay until you were better.”
    In other words, she was hiding from her family. But it was surprising that she wanted to remain with him. He leaned on one elbow, waiting for her to sit beside him once more.
    “Have you been tending me all this time? Alone?” His memories were vague, and he recalled little of what had happened.
    Margaret nodded. “I had no choice.” She sat on a stool beside him, her posture rigid. “But you are getting better.”
    “Then you’ve seen me naked, have you no’?” Given how long she’d cared for him, it was inevitable.
    “We do not need to discuss that.” But Cain didn’t miss the pretty blush upon her cheeks. She had seen him.
    “It doesna seem verra fair that you’ve seen all that God gave me, when I’ve seen naught of you,” he teased.
    He expected an indignant response, but instead, Margaret sent him a narrowed gaze. “Life isn’t fair, now, is it?”
    “Nay, lass. And now I’m beginning to wonder what else you did to me while I was asleep.” He studied her, wondering if those hands had touched his bare skin.
    She folded her arms across her chest. It appeared that she was about to snap at him, but then a sudden mischievous look crossed her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
    Cain choked back a laugh. “Aye, Margaret. I would.”
    She leaned back, and he noticed that her blond hair was carelessly pulled back, several locks framing her face. He liked seeing her in this way, with her hair unbound,