Ridiculous! It was merely because she was frightened and had been confined to a small carriage with nothing else to do except feign sleep and pretend not to stare at the Adonis.
She looked down at the mask and covering and carefully placed it over her head before following the rest of the men.
Pierce leaned against the door to the inn and gave her an approving grin. “I’m surprised he lasted so long in that carriage with you. Tell me, Princess, did you pull a knife on him?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll just have to keep hoping, then,” Pierce said wistfully. “Now off you go. By now, the inn will know of our arrival. I am to see to the horses.”
“And what am I to see to?”
Pierce grinned wolfishly. “Why, your husband, of course.”
Sofia was suddenly sorry she’d asked. Pierce walked away without giving her a chance to defend herself. A very strong urge rose to throw a rock at his back, but he would merely laugh all the more.
“Prin—”
Ash smacked Cornelius on the back of the head and scowled. Cornelius fell forward. “Sorry, I mean Snow.”
“Snow?” Oh, this should be good. Sofia waited while Cornelius’s chest pumped up, making him look absolutely ridiculous standing next to Ash.
“I came up with it.” He looked around as if he was waiting for applause. The rest of the guards grinned and nodded their heads in approval.
“Did you now?” Her patience was quickly dwindling. Was it so much to ask for a hot meal and bath?
“Yes.” Cornelius confirmed. “You see, your skin is white, and Ash mentioned something to us about you being pure so we cannot touch you—”
Ash groaned behind him.
“So I thought, well, why don’t we call her Snow instead of Princ—”
Ash smacked him again.
“Ouch.” Cornelius rubbed his arm. “Well, instead of the other name, you know, in order to hide you from the witch.”
He must have been done. For he stood there, arms crossed, chin thrust out, waiting.
“Er,” Sofia cleared her throat. “Well done. All of you, I am so very proud to have you with me. Protecting me.”
Over Cornelius’s shoulder, she caught sight of Ash as he rolled his eyes.
“Ale for everyone!” Pierce shouted upon entering the small room where they were standing. Luckily, the room was occupied by only two guests sitting in the far corner, out of earshot, and no innkeepers in sight.
What kind of establishment was this?
“Ale! Ale!” the men shouted, following Pierce around like long-lost puppies.
Abandoned, Sofia joined Ash just as the innkeeper came around the corner and handed him a key.
“Everything is ready?”
“It is.” The innkeeper smiled. “And what a pleasure, my lord, to see you after all these weeks.”
Sofia’s eyes near fell out of her head as she eavesdropped.
“Do say hello to His Grace upon your return to London?”
“I will do that.” Ash smiled warmly at the man and patted him on the shoulder.
Clearly, Sofia had no control over her body whatsoever, for she was so completely dumbstruck by the beauty of Ash’s smile that she gasped aloud.
Merciful heavens.
His head turned just enough to see her out of the corner of his eye.
“Spying, my love?”
“Love?”
“Is this she?” The innkeeper clapped his hands in glee. “Oh, the honor is all mine, Princess.”
“But…”
She looked between both men in complete confusion. Ash was still grinning, and the man— Wait. The man wasn’t old as she had at first thought.
He wore a wig, spectacles, and a burly tunic, but his smile. Dear Lord, his smile was perfect, and young, and…
“It is almost as if I can hear the wheels turning in her head. Remarkable.” The innkeeper grinned.
“You are not an innkeeper.”
Disregarding her outburst, the innkeeper continued to address Ash. “She’s a bright one. I’d keep her.”
“Alas…” Ash said, curving his lips into a droll smile. “…she is not mine to keep.”
“Hmmph. When has that ever stopped a man, eh?”
Sofia planted herself between Ash and the innkeeper and placed her hands on her hips. “Who are you?”
“Merely a friend of a friend, who happens to work for the Crown when his ridiculous brother-in-law is unable to do so.”
“A friend of a friend of a ridiculous brother-in-law,” Sofia said dryly.
“Right.” With a wink, he tipped his head in a mock bow. “Well, it is getting late, and I did promise to return sooner, but I guess Her Grace will just have to wait.”
“Her Grace?” Sofia near shouted.
“My thanks. Will you be traveling with us on the morrow?” Ash asked, completely ignoring her meltdown.
“But of course, and you can rest easy. The place is not only heavily armed, but guarded. I had such fun playing the innkeeper all day I think I shall take Hunter up on his offer more often!”
“Anything to keep you from pointing your pistol at his head on a regular basis.” He laughed.
“Well, I will not see him when we are in London. We are returning to the country. I am merely fetching Her Grace so we are able to spend a lovely Season away from the ton.”
Ash smiled as the innkeeper turned to Sofia. “And you, my dear, you will be very safe on this night.”
“I know,” she said in a small fear-ridden voice as she noticed the height of the man. Had he been sitting before? He was a relative giant! And Ash wasn’t short, by any means! The man had to be some sort of barbarian!
“Montmouth.” Ash nodded in his direction. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He quit the room only to return with enough ale to get the entirety of Scotland foxed.
“Shall we?” Ash led her through the haze of alcohol to the stairs.
CHAPTER TEN
Emotions: silly little things that get in the way of truth and reality. If I were but a stone with no heart, I would be grateful. Instead, I find myself realizing more and more that the cruel joke of living is not in accomplishments or success; it is in the devastating reality that you have no control over anything, especially your heart. —The Grimm Reaper
TOO SMALL. THE ROOM was too small. Clearly Montmouth had been foxed and had handed him the wrong key. After all, he had specifically told the fool that they were to have enough blankets and pillows for two beds.
Not one.
Yet one bed — if one could call that imposter a bed — was nestled comfortably against the wall.
No chair for him to sleep in.
And no screen for the chamber pot.
No privacy.
It was as if even Montmouth was out to drive him mad. Had Hunter not told anyone of Ash’s vow of celibacy? Was he trying to kill him?
At his side, Sofia tensed. “Where am I to change?”
Good question. “I will leave the room, giving you adequate time to change and… and…” He rolled his eyes. “…take care of... your needs.” Brilliantly done.
“Very well.” Her voice was small as she took a step in front of him and removed her widow’s veil. “Why did I need such a drastic disguise?” She fingered the veil before tossing it to the bed.
“Guests. We may control the inn, but we have no control over who stops here for respite.” A wave of thankfulness for the subject change washed over Ash. He was sweating enough as it was.
“If it is all right with you, I think I’ll change.”
He nodded.
“Ash?”
So close to the door he could feel it.
“Yes, Princess?” Even to his own ears, his answer sounded gruff and unfeeling.
“Would it be too much to ask for a small meal and wine?”
Shoulders sagging in relief, he nodded once. “I’ll see to it.”
“Thank you.” The words, so simple an
d sweet, absolutely unarmed him. Using all the strength he possessed, he quit the room before he thanked her back in a way he wasn’t entirely sure she would welcome.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I fear that visions of her creamy white skin and pink lips will haunt me throughout eternity. They will follow me into the depths of hell. Yet when I think upon those things, at least in that moment, I will find peace in the depths of my damned future. —The Grimm Reaper
SOFIA HAD BEEN DRESSING herself for the entire trip, but that didn’t make the task any less tedious. After all, she was a princess. There was a certain protocol for the way she dressed each day, whether she was in hiding or not.
She was able to pull the dress from her body and moved on to her corset. It was her least favorite part about being a princess, the inability to take a deep breath. Upon her father’s marriage to her stepmother, Sofia had found all of the corsets she’d normally worn thrown out; in return, she’d been provided with whalebone corsets that bruised her sensitive skin.
Her stepmother was convinced that Sofia was not thin enough. She also had the ridiculous notion that whalebone corsets corrected poor posture — another ailment Sofia apparently suffered from.
With a grunt, Sofia reached behind her to untangle the strings.
Her fingers fumbled with the knots for several minutes. Arms aching, she rested for a minute then began anew.
“Blast.” She sat on the bed in defeat, just as a knock came on the door and it swung open.
“Son of a—”Ash stopped himself from finishing the sentence and slammed the door closed behind him. “Mind explaining to me why you’re naked?”
Sofia rolled her eyes. “I am not naked.” Though the way Ash’s eyes raked over her, she might as well be. His breathing sped up as his eyes fell to her chest.
She moved to cover her breasts as best she could, but it was impossible, for the corset caused them to be hard to miss. He’d have to be blind. And clearly, the way he was looking at her, blindness wasn’t something he suffered from.
Swallowing, Ash finally looked away and cursed again. “Why are you not behind the screen making use of the fresh water?”
Perhaps it was the stress of the day, but laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep within Sofia. She wiped a tear of amusement from her eyes. “I am stuck.”
“Stuck?” Ash repeated.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Well...” He waved into the air. “…un-stick yourself.”
Heat flooded Sofia’s face. “I—”
Ash’s eyes widened. “What I meant... that is, I mean… Blasted son of a bloody wh—“
“Help?” Sofia interrupted him. “I promise it won’t take long.”
“Ah, right, music to every gentleman’s ears when he sees a half-naked woman lying on a bed.”
“Pardon?” Sofia asked, confused.
Ash swore again, muttering something about monks and prayers, and walked toward her. He pulled Sofia to her feet and turned her to face the bedpost. “Hold on while I try to figure out this knot.”
Bloody hell, damnation, curses, and death— God must despise him. Ash’s hands shook as he tried to pull at the knots in her corset strings.
He’d never seen a woman so beautiful.
Ever.
Her figure was small but curvy. He had but to move his hands a few inches, and he would be bracing her hips in front of him. She had but to lean forward another few inches, and he could toss the rest of her skirts and take her.
Sweat pooled in his palms as he continued to fumble with the strings of her corset. It seemed the world was working against him, for every time his knuckles accidently grazed her skin, lust shot through every part of his body.
A knot.
He was a man.
And it was mere knot.
Ridiculous.
God save him from such a day when knots are the downfall of a trained assassin.
Sofia let out a soft exhale.
Ash tugged a bit harder, another exhale, and then another tug. It would have been comical had it not been so damn painful to be so near to perfection, yet unable to do anything but look and not touch. Then again, he was touching…
“Are you having difficulty?” Sofia asked softly.
“What the devil did you do to this corset?” Ash tugged on the knot and was finally able to loosen the mangled mess, only to be presented with another knot, this one tighter. Ah, so God did hate him. Lovely.
“I could always ask one of my guards or Pierce if—”
“The hell you will!” Ash growled. “Now hold still.” Being a man, he hadn’t thought of the ramifications of his actions. Well, suffice to say, thinking wasn’t really a strong suit for him at the moment. Cursing, he pulled his knife from his boot then sliced the strings with fervor, causing the corset to fall to the floor.
Because Sofia hadn’t been holding it up.
Because he was an idiot and hadn’t warned her.
And now, he wasn’t just an idiot, but an aroused one who had suddenly developed the inability to speak in complete sentences.
So beautiful. Frail. Damn, the woman needed to eat more. She was all curves and ivory skin.
“Do you mind!” Sofia scrambled away and grabbed a blanket from the bed.
Ash said nothing. Merely drank in his fill of her form, the form he could still see behind the threadbare blanket.
“Well?” Sofia sputtered.
“Apologies.” Ash found his voice. “I was under the impression it was a rhetorical question.” Smiling, he took two steps back, away from the most tempting woman he’d ever had the misfortune of meeting, and headed toward the door. “I’ll just give you a minute.”
“Thank you.” Sofia cleared her throat. “I’ll just— Blast!”
Ash turned on his heel just in time for Sofia to run into his arms and wrap her legs around his waist.
“Kill it!”
Kill me. Please. Just like this. “What the devil?”
“Rat!”
“For heaven’s sake,” Ash grumbled, his voice gruff as he tried to pry Sofia away from his body. If she stayed plastered against him any longer, it wouldn’t be rats causing her to scream. That much was certain.
Sofia refused to budge. If anything, her legs tightened around him, her arms snaked around his neck, giving him a whiff of her lavender perfume. Good God, he was going to have to drown himself in whiskey to exorcise the feel of her legs around him and the scent associated with it.
“Princess,” Ash said through clenched teeth. “I cannot kill the monster underneath your bed if you do not remove your person from mine!”
“Hate them.” Sofia shivered. “I hate them.”
“Don’t all women?” Ash tried to keep his voice hard, lest she realize that she had an effect on him. “Now, kindly remove yourself.”
Sofia shook her head. The smell of lavender again paralyzed all good intentions.
And then he felt something wet hit his neck.
Curious, he pried her arms back and looked directly into those violet eyes to see them glassy with tears.
“Are you crying because of the rat? Truly? Are you that terrified?”
Sofia opened her mouth as if to speak, but all that came out was a croak.
He wanted her desperately.
Obsessively.
And he was beyond angry that he felt that way — that all she needed to do was to stare at him, and everything he’d built for ten years was suddenly on the chopping block. With a curse, Ash peeled her from his body and spat, “Can’t say I’m surprised. You’re a princess. I doubt you’ve ever even seen a rat up close, let alone poverty or dirt. Tell me, do you want me to act the lady’s maid too? Shall I fluff your pillow after I dispose of the rat? Perhaps you’d like me to stoke the fire? Bring you warm chocolate?” The more he spoke, the more angry he became. But at least the anger made the lust disappear; it made him feel in control — better. “Spoiled little princess—”
Sofia slapped him before he co
uld continue. It stung like hell, but he refused to appear affected. “Touchy subject, hmm?”
“Get out,” Sofia ordered, pointing to the door.
“But what about the rat?” Ash drawled. “How are you to possibly go on when—?”
“I said get out!” Sofia shrieked.
Her raised voice was all it took for all seven of her guard to come barreling in the doorway, pistols and one sword drawn. Truly, did the man need to carry his sword everywhere?
“Princess!” David, one of the older, more reserved guards pushed to the front of the group of men. “How can we be of assistance?”
“Rat.” Ash rolled his eyes. “She’s discovered a rat.”
As if he’d just announced that Sofia had, in fact, discovered an assassin in her room, rather than a rat, all seven men fell silent, their faces white.
“So…” Ash looked around. “Is it safe to assume the fear of rats is Russian-bred–and-born.”
“I’ll take care of it.” David stepped forward, his head still bowed.
Madness. It was utter madness!
Ash rolled his eyes just as Gerald stepped toward him and whispered, “Dungeon. She was placed in the dungeon for three months.”
“Who?” Ash turned to face the man. “Who was?”
“Gerald…” Sofia shook her head. “…leave it. Please. After all…” She turned a haughty eye to Ash. “…I’m a spoiled princess, remember? You are dismissed.”
“You—” Ash spat. “—are dismissing me?”
“I’ll call for you when I need that warm chocolate.” Sofia’s voice was hard. “Until then, kindly remove yourself from this room while my protectors remove the hairy intruder.”
With one last glare, Ash marched out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Whiskey.
He needed whiskey.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Funny, my thoughts used to be consumed with blood, death, darkness— I hated it. Now? Now they’re consumed with lavender, violet eyes, and tears. Damn, but I miss the blood. —The Grimm Reaper
When Ash Falls Page 5