pace slow and easy to allay her fright.
Assessing the moon’s position, he surmised that even at this pace, they would reach the inn in three or four hours, arriving at dawn.
When he’d first returned to Dorsetshire, he’d deliberately chosen to stay some distance from Ashfield. Although he’d been gone seventeen years, and even though he bore scant resemblance to the angry eleven year-old boy who had left, memories could be long, and Nicholas had no desire to be recognized. He had given the innkeeper a false name, and so far, he was confident no one had noticed that the Earl of Ashton had returned.
But there was no question about it. He was back.
Nicholas looked down at his prize, watched her head bob with each plodding step of the horse. A wisp of hair had come loose from the prison of her cap and dangled across her tender nape. A sudden overwhelming need to nestle his face into that delicate curve possessed him. Instead, he readjusted her sleeping form. As her head repositioned into the crook of his neck, the scent of lavender wafted up to him. Nicholas closed his eyes and shuddered at the sudden rush of desire that ran through him.
The sound of horse hooves coming closer seeped into his awareness. He opened his eyes to see Jeremy had ridden up beside him.
He’d forgotten about the boy.
In the dim moonlight, he could see the lad wore an unmistakable scowl.
Nicholas scowled back.
* * *
Katherine cracked open an eye. They had stopped moving.
Dawn painted rosy streaks across the sky. A sign announced, by both picture and word, that they had arrived at the Ram’s Head Inn . Warm inside the curve of Nicholas’s arms, she yawned and looked around the well-tended courtyard. Two benches made from logs cut in half sat outside a sturdy wooden door. The windows were still shuttered against the night, but smoke poured out of a chimney at the back of the unassuming building, attesting to the beginning of a new day.
Nicholas dismounted, caught her by the waist and swung her down. Her legs buckled when her feet touched the ground, and she sagged against him, clutching Montford to her chest. Nicholas did not let go of her, but held her close—too close for the cat, wedged between them.
Montford mewed in protest.
Nicholas’s eyes met hers. A jolt of physical awareness tingled through her, and all sleepiness vanished. Katherine gasped at her reaction. He held her steady for a long moment before putting her from him. This time, after a slight sway, she held her own weight. As soon as she was stable, he walked off.
Shaken and bereft of Nicholas’s strong presence and warmth, Katherine began to shiver. She tightened her cloak against the morning chill and watched him give instructions to a stable boy.
Jeremy looked her way and their gazes met across the courtyard.
She blushed, still overcome by her intense response to Nicholas.
The front door burst open. The innkeeper, a short stout man, flew out to greet them.
“Master Abernathy,” he cried. “’Tis pleased I am at your safe return.”
Abernathy? Katherine’s head spun to Nicholas.
“Afraid I would not be back to pay my bill, you mean.” Nicholas chuckled.
The innkeeper stopped in his tracks and acted as if he’d been stabbed in the heart. “You cut me to the quick,” he exclaimed. “In your absence, Molly has been sulking and Henry off to his room. I am hoping your return will put all back as it should be.”
“Then let us begin with my belly.” Nicholas rubbed his stomach. “I have a powerful hunger this morn.”
“Aye.” The stout man nodded and cast a curious glance at Katherine as he led them inside.
Jeremy stayed behind with the stable boy and the horses.
The common room was crude but clean. Loud banging in the kitchen, accompanied by the smell of bread baking, set Katherine’s stomach growling. The innkeeper settled them at a table. A few minutes later a sleepy-eyed serving girl set a loaf of warm bread, and an assortment of cold
Assessing the moon’s position, he surmised that even at this pace, they would reach the inn in three or four hours, arriving at dawn.
When he’d first returned to Dorsetshire, he’d deliberately chosen to stay some distance from Ashfield. Although he’d been gone seventeen years, and even though he bore scant resemblance to the angry eleven year-old boy who had left, memories could be long, and Nicholas had no desire to be recognized. He had given the innkeeper a false name, and so far, he was confident no one had noticed that the Earl of Ashton had returned.
But there was no question about it. He was back.
Nicholas looked down at his prize, watched her head bob with each plodding step of the horse. A wisp of hair had come loose from the prison of her cap and dangled across her tender nape. A sudden overwhelming need to nestle his face into that delicate curve possessed him. Instead, he readjusted her sleeping form. As her head repositioned into the crook of his neck, the scent of lavender wafted up to him. Nicholas closed his eyes and shuddered at the sudden rush of desire that ran through him.
The sound of horse hooves coming closer seeped into his awareness. He opened his eyes to see Jeremy had ridden up beside him.
He’d forgotten about the boy.
In the dim moonlight, he could see the lad wore an unmistakable scowl.
Nicholas scowled back.
* * *
Katherine cracked open an eye. They had stopped moving.
Dawn painted rosy streaks across the sky. A sign announced, by both picture and word, that they had arrived at the Ram’s Head Inn . Warm inside the curve of Nicholas’s arms, she yawned and looked around the well-tended courtyard. Two benches made from logs cut in half sat outside a sturdy wooden door. The windows were still shuttered against the night, but smoke poured out of a chimney at the back of the unassuming building, attesting to the beginning of a new day.
Nicholas dismounted, caught her by the waist and swung her down. Her legs buckled when her feet touched the ground, and she sagged against him, clutching Montford to her chest. Nicholas did not let go of her, but held her close—too close for the cat, wedged between them.
Montford mewed in protest.
Nicholas’s eyes met hers. A jolt of physical awareness tingled through her, and all sleepiness vanished. Katherine gasped at her reaction. He held her steady for a long moment before putting her from him. This time, after a slight sway, she held her own weight. As soon as she was stable, he walked off.
Shaken and bereft of Nicholas’s strong presence and warmth, Katherine began to shiver. She tightened her cloak against the morning chill and watched him give instructions to a stable boy.
Jeremy looked her way and their gazes met across the courtyard.
She blushed, still overcome by her intense response to Nicholas.
The front door burst open. The innkeeper, a short stout man, flew out to greet them.
“Master Abernathy,” he cried. “’Tis pleased I am at your safe return.”
Abernathy? Katherine’s head spun to Nicholas.
“Afraid I would not be back to pay my bill, you mean.” Nicholas chuckled.
The innkeeper stopped in his tracks and acted as if he’d been stabbed in the heart. “You cut me to the quick,” he exclaimed. “In your absence, Molly has been sulking and Henry off to his room. I am hoping your return will put all back as it should be.”
“Then let us begin with my belly.” Nicholas rubbed his stomach. “I have a powerful hunger this morn.”
“Aye.” The stout man nodded and cast a curious glance at Katherine as he led them inside.
Jeremy stayed behind with the stable boy and the horses.
The common room was crude but clean. Loud banging in the kitchen, accompanied by the smell of bread baking, set Katherine’s stomach growling. The innkeeper settled them at a table. A few minutes later a sleepy-eyed serving girl set a loaf of warm bread, and an assortment of cold
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