Page 36 of King's Man

“I thought so, too,” Nate said softly.

A log shifted in the grate, sending a fountain of sparks up the chimney. Into the live silence, Nate said, “Let me come with you tonight. It’s better if we stick together.”

Their gaze met and held. Neither said it was always better when they stuck together. Perhaps it didn’t need saying. Or perhaps it was simply Sam’s wishful thinking.

Either way, they finished packing away their food without further debate and headed back down the lane, walking in silence. When they reached the road, they stopped, regarding Marlborough’s estate laid out before them. Lights blazed in the upper windows of the house, reflecting in the river that wound around the property. Out on the road, all was dark.

Sam said quietly, “I’m worried about that river.”

“Really? Why?”

He glanced over at Nate but couldn’t see much of him bar the gleam of his eyes and the moon-washed lines of his face. “See the bridge?” From their vantage point on the hillside, the road swept down and away to the left, past the entrance to Marlborough Castle. Its approach crossed the river by way of an ornamental bridge, all gargoyles and ramparts. “It’s our only way over the river.”

“You’re concerned that we’ll be visible.”

“Yes. And if we need to make a run for it, that’s the place they’ll stop us. Put a couple of men on the bridge and we’re trapped.”

“Then we need an alternative escape route.” Nate squinted into the distance. “What about up into the trees behind the house?”

“That’s the obvious direction, but we’d still be on the wrong side of the river.”

“Isn’t it the only direction if we can’t use the bridge?”

“Not if there’s another way to cross. We can both swim…”

A sudden memory assaulted him: Nate, naked in the river, warm and slick in his arms. It was so visceral he could feel the slide of Nate’s skin against his chest, the hot press of his lips against his throat.

“We can,” Nate agreed with a look that suggested his thoughts were running in a similar direction. “But we’d be sitting ducks in the water — so to speak.”

Sam cleared his throat, looking away. “And you’ll want to keep your stolen papers dry.”

“Don’t worry about that. I have an oilcloth pouch to protect them.”

“Alright. But a fording point would be safer. If there is one, I want to find it tonight.”

When they reached the river, Sam found it wasn’t as wide as he’d feared. He led the way along the bank, heading towards the bend where the river swung closer to the castle. That would be the shortest escape route.

Late as it was, lights still glowed in the castle’s upper windows, but he was pleased to find the riverbank still swathed in shadows. Darkness would be their friend tomorrow.

He stole another glance at Nate. Sharp profile, slender shoulders, a lock of dark hair drifting loose from his queue: he looked so familiar tonight, as if no time had passed since that day Nate had kissed him on the banks of the Pawtuxet and changed his life forever. No cicadas sung in the grass here and the breeze was cooler, but it still sighed through the reeds and the green river scent still perfumed the air. Underfoot, the grass still sprung softly.

Sam fought a powerful urge to take Nate’s hand and twine their fingers together. Instead, he tried to summon his terror of the mob and the suffocating darkness of Simsbury Mine, but the memories were distant. Tonight, there was only the burble of water and the feel of Nate walking so close their shoulders brushed.

“How about there?” Nate spoke quietly, pointing to a place where the river ruffled into foamy peaks. In the moonlight, his slim hand looked pale against his black coat sleeve. Sam wanted to capture it in his own.

“Looks possible,” he said instead, heading down to the river. Nate matched him stride-for-stride. The water had cut into the bank on their side of the river, but on the opposite bank a sliver of beach lay exposed and there were one or two rocks poking up from the water halfway across. “I’ll try it,” Sam decided. Dropping down on the grass, he pulled off his boots and stockings, and took off his coat to keep the tails from getting wet.

Nate watched with unblinking attention, his intent gaze making Sam’s pulse spike. “You’re going to be short of dry clothes if you fall in.”

“I’m not skinny-dipping, if that’s your suggestion.”

“Now there’s a thought.”

Sam tried to scowl, but it turned into an unwilling smile. “Hell, Nate.” He swung his legs over the bank, felt the cold water catch at his feet and watched it running around his ankles. “How is this so easy for you?”

“Being with you was always easy. Easiest damn thing in the world.”

Sam closed his eyes. Easiest thing in the world until it had been impossible. Levering himself off the bank, he slipped into the water, sucking in a breath at the cold, his feet squelching on the muddy bottom. But the water only came halfway up his shins. He rolled the legs of his breeches up a little higher.

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