by Maya Banks
Apprehension unsettled her stomach. In her experience, it didn’t pay to trust anyone. And certainly not someone who knew so much about you.
“If you can trust me, you can trust Kirk,” he said as if daring her to say otherwise.
“Where do we go from the village?” she asked, not wanting to discuss Kirk or her misgivings.
He took a deep breath. “Dover.”
She shot up from her perch on the floor in an instant. “Dover? We cannot go to Dover. It’s out of the question. We’ll be set upon before we ever board a ship there. Didn’t you hear me when I told you that Dover was where I entered England?”
He put a hand up to stop her tirade. “Hear me out.”
Fear and anger warred within her, but she closed her lips tightly together.
“Your plan to travel to Brighton made perfect sense. Very logical. Until I began to think that is precisely what your pursuers would likely expect you to do. They must know by now that you will not be easily apprehended. You’ve proven to be a very worthy adversary.”
Uneasiness hedged some of her anger. What if he was right? She could have been walking right into a trap by moving south. What he said made sense.
“In reality, the most foolish thing on earth we could do is to hire a ship out of Dover. Which is why I think that is precisely what we should do.”
She chewed her bottom lip, not at all trying to hide her agitation. It was logical, but they were taking a huge chance. What if the men who were after her hadn’t the intelligence of a donkey? Then they would likely all be lined up in Dover waiting her arrival. But if what he was saying was true, they were probably trying to anticipate her next move, and as he said, the most illogical thing for her to do would be to go to Dover.
“If we are successful in boarding a ship in Dover, we can be to Leaudor in a matter of a few days,” he pointed out. “If we travel to Brighton, the trip there alone will take several days. Then we cannot be sure of hiring a ship to Leaudor from there, and it will likely take a week providing the weather is agreeable.”
She could be home in days. The thought gave her the most comfort she had experienced in a very long time. And it was worth the risk of being apprehended.
“Very well,” she said after a pause. “Dover it is.”
He stood up and gestured toward their clothes lying on the hearth. “Then let’s dress, and we’ll head to the village as soon as it is light.”
* * *
If anything the temperature had dropped even lower overnight. When they stepped out into the dim light of sunrise, the air seemed frozen around them. The ground crunched beneath their feet, trapped beneath a layer of frost.
Isabella drew her coat tighter around her, thankful, at least, that it had stopped the cold mixture of rain and snow from yesterday.
Merrick took her hand and helped her through the thick underbrush surrounding the small cabin. Once they broke into the forest, the walking was easier and they increased their pace.
In other circumstances, she would have marveled at the beauty of the landscape, but she spared it only a passing glance as they approached the outskirts of the village. A thin plume of smoke, and then another, no doubt from nearby chimneys, alerted her to the fact they were drawing near.
When they spotted a group of small cottages, she breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t be much further.
They traveled a wide circle around the houses, careful not to enter the village from the main road. Finally, they arrived at a posting inn, and Merrick cautioned her to remain out of sight.
“I am going in to inquire about our horses. I won’t be but a moment. If I am not back within ten minutes, get out of here as fast as you can.”
“But how will I…”
He pressed his timepiece into her hand. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She watched as he disappeared around the corner then she quickly took stock of her surroundings. Deciding against remaining where she was in plain view to passing people, she ducked into the stable that adjoined the inn.
The musty smell of horses, sweat and manure mixed with the fresh aroma of hay assaulted her as soon as she entered. The horses neighed and snorted nervously as they sensed her presence.
She moved down the stalls, her hand coming out to stroke the soft noses as she passed. The warmth emanating from the horses was a welcome change to the bracing wind.
Stopping at the end, she stroked the neck of a horse that leaned his head over to push at her chest. “I don’t have anything for you to eat,” she said regretfully as he continued to nuzzle her.
She reached down into the feeder and brought a handful of oats to his mouth. Memories swamped her. She’d spent so many hours in the royal stables. Her father had gifted her with a beautiful stallion on her twenty-fifth birthday. Just three short months before his death.
Though his time was limited and his duties many, he’d always made time to go riding with her. They often raced back to the stables after a leisurely ride over the palace grounds. The last time they had ridden together was the first time she had ever won.
Her heart heavy, she turned and walked back to the front to wait for Merrick. After a quick check of his timepiece, she determined he had been gone seven minutes. Only three remained. She tamped down the tide of panic that threatened to bubble up her throat. He would be here.
At exactly nine minutes and several heartbeats later, he walked into the stable carrying two bags. He handed one to her then shoved a smaller parcel toward her.
“Something to eat,” he explained to her utter delight.
Not waiting a moment longer, she dug into it and found a still-warm meat pie. It was heaven in a crust. She could scarcely contain her moan of complete pleasure as she bit into the meat-filled confection.
She quickly consumed the rest, not stopping to enjoy it as she would like. Brushing the crumbs from her shirt, she took up the larger bag over her shoulder. “Which horses are ours?” she asked.
“The two in the front stalls.”
He quickly saddled both horses then secured their bags. As he led them out of the stable, he glanced over at her. “I forgot to ask, and I suppose I should not have assumed, but can you ride astride?”
She chuckled. “The better question would have been can I ride a sidesaddle. Indeed, I have always ridden astride.”
He held out a hand to help her mount then handed her the reigns as soon as she was settled. Afterwards, he swung onto his horse and took out ahead of her.
She urged her horse forward and followed him out of the village onto the north road. When she drew abreast of him, he looked over at her.
“It will be an arduous journey. We will only stop for a few hours sleep at best and to rest the horses as needed. I hope to be in Dover within two days.”
She nodded approvingly.
Soon they left the main road and began paralleling it as the countryside gave way to a less densely forested area. They were still afforded relative obscurity in the trees but were able to traverse the terrain with no difficulty.
After several hours, they came upon a small stream and stopped to let the horses drink and graze. Merrick dug into his bag and produced two sandwiches for them and a small bottle of wine.
She delighted in the sandwich and savored every bite. Having gone too long with little or no food, she had gained a new appreciation for even the simplest fare. He handed over the wine to her, and she drank from the bottle. It was coarse and not at all like the wine she was accustomed to, but she had never tasted anything better.
Handing the bottle back to him, she leaned against a tree and sighed in contentment. Having two meals in the same day was a luxury she was unused to and it felt wonderful to be full and sated.
“You will not go hungry again,” Merrick said darkly. “I won’t allow it.”
She opened her eyes in surprise and stared at him, again caught off guard by his perception. Embarrassed that he had been able to read he
r thoughts, she looked away.
“These months must have been hard for you.”
“Hopefully they will end when I have returned home,” she said lightly. Though she knew in her heart her hard times would only just be beginning.
After untying the horses, Merrick assisted her up and they resumed travel. They moved in silence, the midday sun warming her slightly as they continued their steady pace. The overcast sky had given way to a beautiful blue canvas. The leafless trees marked a stark contrast against such a beautiful background.
The frost had melted, leaving the ground soggy and covered with damp leaves. Were someone following them, they would be easy to track as the horses left fresh hoof prints in the mud.
Isabella shook her head, determined not to give thought to the perils of their journey. If they were fortunate, they would arrive in Dover unmolested and secure passage to Leaudor in less than two days. And she could forever say goodbye to England. If she never had to return, it would be too soon.
As the day drew on and the sun began setting, the air became colder. The horses’ nostrils flared and blew out their breath in a fog. Her legs were numb, and she drew them in closer to her horse, seeking his heat.
“We’ll move back on the road as soon as it is completely dark,” Merrick called out beside her. “We can’t chance becoming lost in the woods.”
He made no mention of stopping for the night, and even though she knew the importance of pushing on, her heart sank. What she wouldn’t give for a warm place to sleep for awhile. It seemed it had been years since she had succumbed to a deep, healing sleep.
Thirty minutes later, when the sun had completely sunk behind the trees and they could no longer make out the path they were on, Merrick turned his horse toward the road.
Just over the horizon, the moon shone faintly, not long from its new phase. She silently gave thanks that it wasn’t full. Full moons attracted highwaymen and other ne’er-do-wells.
Though she was a competent rider, the long hours in the saddle were wearing on spots that weren’t mentionable in polite company. She shifted slightly, trying to adjust to a more comfortable position.
“Do we need to stop?” he asked.
Did he miss anything? His perception was beginning to annoy her. “No, I am quite all right. No need to stop on my account.”
“Shhh,” he said, suddenly pulling his horse to an abrupt stop.
He turned and stared behind them for a long moment then turned back to her. “Into the woods,” he said urgently, spurring his horse forward.
She kicked her heels and lowered her head as the horse bolted after Merrick into the woods. Once in the cover of the trees, he pulled up short and motioned for her to be still.
A few minutes later, she heard a rumbling noise and shortly after, a carriage rolled down the road followed by two men on horseback.
They watched until it was completely out of sight then Merrick listened intently for signs of any other traffic. Evidently satisfied that there was no more, he gestured back toward the road.
In the excitement of the moment, she had completely forgotten how cold she was. As they resumed travel and her heartbeat went back to normal, the chill started to creep back in. As did the fatigue. The slow rocking motion of the horse lulled her until it was difficult to keep her eyes open. But still they plodded on.
Just when she was convinced she could go no farther, he once again motioned for her to follow him off the road.
“We’ll stop here for the night,” he said as he dismounted.
As she slid from her horse, her knees nearly buckled beneath her. She stood up hastily, not wanting him to see her weakness. Though it was doubtful he failed to notice anything at all, she thought sourly.
She glanced around at their surroundings, trying to make out the details in the dark. There was a small clearing in the trees but otherwise, the area was unremarkable.
Merrick walked the horses down to the small stream and secured them to a nearby tree. After rubbing them down with clumps of grass, he left them drinking and munching contentedly on the grass and returned to where she stood.
“We’ll make camp near the horses. They will alert us if anyone approaches.”
She followed him back to the stream, her walk stiff and excruciatingly painful. Her legs trembled as she watched him unpack one of the bags he had tied to the saddle. He spread out a blanket on the ground then placed another on top.
“We’ll have to sleep close,” he said a little hesitantly. “It is the only way we will stay warm. By using our body heat.”
She absorbed what he said, and her cheeks grew hot as she imagined sleeping tightly against him. “Yes, yes of course,” she managed to get out. “Perfectly logical.”
“Do you want to eat before we bed down?”
“To be honest, all I want is to lie down,” she admitted.
He held out a hand to her. “We’ll get some sleep then and eat in the morning.”
She slipped her hand into his, and he helped her over to the blanket. Warmth was already spreading up her arm in a delicious swirl. Reluctantly, she released his hand as he urged her to lie down.
Gingerly, she settled down, praying the moisture from the ground hadn’t already permeated the material. He took out more blankets then crawled up beside her. Before she could ask how he wanted her positioned, he reached around her and pulled her up close to him.
He wrapped the blankets tightly around them, trapping her against his chest. She breathed deeply, his warm scent surrounding her. His arms held her close, and she sighed in contentment.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly in her ear.
“Mmmm.”
His husky voice slid sensuously over her. “Sleep now. We’ve another long journey tomorrow.”
She nestled against him, melting against his strength. His arms tightened around her, and she wondered if she would ever again experience anything remotely as pleasurable.
Her eyes fluttered and she pressed her cheek against his chest, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of his heart.
Simon nearly groaned aloud as she melded her lush form even closer to him. He was already in agony, and she was torturing him further by wiggling against him.
He willed his body to calm down, but so far his effort was having no affect. His breeches were tight, painfully tight, and he prayed she wouldn’t notice.
He cursed his lack of control. It would only get him killed if he couldn’t school his attention. Never before had he allowed attraction to a woman to interfere with his tight reign on his emotions.
But damn if this woman, a royal princess yet, didn’t make him react like a schoolboy who had just reached his majority. Not only was she well out of his reach, but he was charged with her safety. Entertaining lascivious thoughts about her was a practice in futility.
He glanced down to see her dark lashes resting against her cheeks. Her soft breath blew on his chest and warmed him to his core. Gently, he stroked back the strands of hair covering her cheek. She was indeed beautiful, and she captivated him unlike any woman ever had.
Which was precisely why he needed to put as much distance between them as possible. Figuratively speaking of course, since there wasn’t even an inch separating them at present.
Seeking to remedy that, he laid back and gazed up at the sky. How had his life suddenly become so complicated? The perils of his work were nothing new to him, but never before had he developed such a personal stake. He did his job and moved on to the next issue.
He glanced over at her sleeping form and felt an odd tightening in his chest. Damn it all but she had some kind of hold on him that he couldn’t even explain.
He had shared things with her he had never told another human being. Not even Kirk. Her talk of her family inspired a longing within him that he thought he had left behind when he departed from the house of his birth.
For the first time in his adult life, he considered what his life migh
t be like if he did have a family of his own. A real family.
He swallowed against the bad taste in his mouth and silently berated himself for even going down this road. It did him no good to yearn for things he couldn’t have. Could never have in his chosen path. England was his responsibility. His family. It would have to suffice.
Chapter Nine
Isabella slowly opened her eyes, reluctant to come out of her delicious dream. She felt warm and safe. As her eyes focused, she found herself staring at Merrick’s chest.
As if they had a mind of their own, her hands came up and lightly skimmed over the surface of his shirt and up to his shoulders. He felt just like she had always imagined a man to feel. Hard, rugged, strong. He smelled of leather and horses, but on him it was appealing.
When he opened his eyes, she quickly withdrew her hands.
“Good morning,” he murmured in a slightly hoarse voice. “I trust you slept well.”
She nodded.
He pulled hastily away from her, and a cold draft billowed over her as the blanket fell open. She felt the loss of his warmth in every inch of her body and squashed the urge to ask him to come back.
She followed him up, her legs screaming in protest as she stretched. Rubbing the kinks from her neck with one hand, she reached up with the other for her coat that she’d hung on the branches of a small tree. The morning fog hung precariously close to the ground, lending the area an eerie quality. Steam rose from the horses’ backs as they stamped and neighed.
Merrick knelt by the stream and scooped some of the water into his mouth. He motioned her over then held his cupped hands to her. Tentatively, she lowered her mouth and drank. Somehow the act of drinking from his hands became sensual. She nearly jumped as her lips made contact with his thumb. His skin tasted slightly salty and felt rough to her soft mouth. Her tongue briefly darted out as she scooped the remaining moisture within, and she wondered if the rest of him would taste as good.
“More?” he asked, lowering his hands to the stream again.