Sins of a Ruthless Rogue

“How did you find it?” Clayton asked.

“I’d like to claim something impressive, but as it turns out, your favorite lovable giant helped the count deliver boxes to several

houses around the city. This was one of them. Why didn’t you ask him?”

“He said he didn’t know where Arshun was. I suppose I didn’t ask the right questions.”

“Blin knew?” Although she was finally dressed properly for the cold, with a fur hat, mittens, and coat, Olivia could barely keep her

eyes open. And she had to be starving. They hadn’t eaten all day.

Ian was far too well trained to give in to his exhaustion, but the horses he drove had clumps of ice around their nostrils and his good

cheer was a bit more forced than normal. “Indeed. And can I just say that man has pastries running through his veins? His tortes are

divine.”

Secrets or no, Olivia was Clayton’s to protect. To watch after. He supposed many might think that obligation a burden, but he

relished the right to claim the responsibility even as it terrified him. He cradled her against him, offering what little added warmth he

could.

But Olivia had been correct earlier. No matter how irresistible and undeniable their attraction was, he couldn’t pursue her while he

planned to ruin something she held dear.

Was there a way they could both be satisfied with what happened to the mill? What if he forced her father to sell the mill privately?

He could punish her father but keep her safe. He could even arrange for the mill to be bought by a fair businessman so the

townspeople she cared about could be safe. He could have his justice, but it wouldn’t affect those who didn’t deserve it.

Ian continued past Arshun’s house. Smoke wafted from the chimney, and the snow on the walk leading to the house had been

packed down by many feet. Arshun wasn’t alone in there.

When Ian was a good distance past, he slowed the sleigh to a stop.

“How many revolutionaries are there?” Olivia asked.

Clayton leaped down. “That’s what I’m about to find out.”

Without Clayton’s warmth at her back, Olivia shivered. She knew she shouldn’t stare after him but she couldn’t help it. “He isn’t going

into the house, is he?”

Ian shrugged. “He better be. Otherwise, next time he can stay with the horses.” Ian clicked his tongue and coaxed the horse into

maneuvering the sleigh to face the way they’d come. “Don’t worry. There probably won’t be more than six or seven.”

Six or— “You are jesting, right?”

Ian frowned and tapped his chin. “Not this time.” He climbed down and threw one of his blankets over the back of the horse. “You’re

wasting a perfectly good opportunity.” He wiped the frozen sweat from the beast.

“What?” She tried to banish all thoughts of Clayton fighting half a dozen men.

“I’m a fount of information about Clayton, and you’ve yet to ask me anything.”

That distracted her. “You’d tell me?”

“A woman who doesn’t shoot Clayton when given the chance is a rare woman indeed. Madeline did, you know.”

“What?” she found herself repeating.

“Shoot him. In the thigh. She claims it was an accident, that he moved into her line of fire, but I think we all know the truth.”

Olivia’s head was spinning a bit, but not enough that she didn’t realize that was probably the effect he wanted.

“Isn’t this information secret?”

“Private—maybe. Secret—no. But I figure if I leave Clay to his own devices, he’ll be all dark and mysterious long after you’ve given

up on him and it’s too late.” Ian hopped back into the sleigh and pulled the rest of his blankets over him. Then his hand reemerged

holding half of a smashed pastry.

She took the piece he offered. “Too late for what?”

“For him to realize he still loves you.”

“Wha—” She just barely stopped herself from repeating her confusion for a third time. “He doesn’t love me. Not anymore.” He might

trust her. He might desire her. But he didn’t love her.

“Then why didn’t he look into your history when he researched the mill?”

The answer seemed rather obvious. “Because he didn’t care.”

“Wrong! You know Clayton better than that. He is entirely methodical and meticulous. Yet he refused to look into your life over the

past ten years. Odd, is it not? Almost like he was trying to prove something to himself?”

“If you think he came after the mill just so he could interact with me—”

Ian laughed. “No. No. He will destroy everything.” The grin faded on his face. “He will just hate himself afterward.”

“I’m trying to stop him.”

“No, you’re trying to save the mill.”

Why hadn’t Clayton mentioned the man was mad? “They are the same thing.”

“Wrong again. There’s information you could give Clayton that would stop him.”

There was no way he could know—

Ian tapped his temple. “All-knowing. It’s a curse, really.”

She ripped the pastry. “Then I’d be the one who destroyed the mill. I’d be no different from my father.”

“Are you now? Trying to reach your goals no matter the means?”

Father’s daughter. “If I’ve had to lie, it was for the greater good—”

“If you keep to your lies, you’ll destroy Clayton all over again. He trusts you. You know Clayton. He cannot do anything by half. So you

have to choose: the mill or the man.”

“If I tell him about my lies, I’ll lose him and the mill.”

“Probably.” He plucked the bits of food he’d given her out of her hand and popped them into his mouth.

Did he think she’d just give in and lose both? She was done losing the things she cared about. “Then I can’t.”

Ian shrugged as he chewed. “Feel free to disregard the advice of the all-knowing.”

“Who’s all-knowing?” Clayton asked from the side of the sleigh.

He was safe. She jumped down and threw her arms around him.

“Madeline and I chose to call him all-gloating instead.”

Olivia tried to smile, but Ian’s observations had been too close to the mark. The mill or the man. Surely, the mill was the better

option; after all, it would improve dozens of families.

“There are nine of them plus Arshun,” Clayton reported.

Ian landed in the snow next to them.

Clayton grabbed her by the waist and deposited her on the driver’s bench. Ian handed her the reins.

“What are you doing?” She tried to climb down but Clayton stopped her.

“If we do not signal you in ten minutes, you drive away and do not come back.”

They thought she would wait out here while they fought nine men?

Ian clapped his hands together. “Your lover won’t say it so I will. You’re not trained. You’ll make things more dangerous for us if you

come.”

She knew he was right, but she still scowled at him. “If you’re not out in seven minutes, I’m following you inside.”