Page 11 of The Banished Bride
“No, I don’t imagine you have.” Alex was gratified to see her smile grow even more pronounced. “In your line of work, I doubt you’d be around long if you had.”
The arrival of the tray of food interrupted any further conversation. “Well, good night, sir. I shall see you in the morning.”
As she walked toward the door, Alex tried not to stare at the sway of her slim hips. Indeed, he tried to put her out of his mind altogether. Waving away the elderly woman who had brought him his meal, he sat up by himself and began to attack the thick porridge. But his thoughts kept straying back to his rescuer.
Strong-willed females were usually not at all to his taste, he mused, chewing slowly on the crunchy nuggets. They inevitably proved to be demanding, greedy and selfish to boot. But this young lady was intriguingly different. Why, most any other lady would have swooned at having a knife placed to her throat, but she had kept her wits about her, showing a feisty courage and an agile mind.
Too agile!he thought with a wry purse of his lips. Egad, had a female really disarmed him? He could only hope no word of that little encounter would ever leak out. First of all, his fellowofficers would never believe it. And if they did become convinced of its truth, they would laugh themselves sick, no matter that he had been half delirious with fever.
And he would join in, Alex admitted to himself, for the irony of a seasoned veteran being bested by a poor country miss was not lost on him. He had always been able to laugh at himself. It was what helped keep him sane over the years.
With a start, he realized he was chuckling aloud.Damn!Green chit she may be, but she had handled what could have been a disaster of epic proportions with cool aplomb and quick thinking. Lord, her concise report would have been a credit to any officer on Wellesley’s staff. He addedorganized,smartandsavvyto the growing list of her attributes.
As he shifted against the ragged pillow, he caught the faint lingering of her scent, a sweet, fresh scent of lavender and warm honey.Attractive.Damn attractive, especially as it seemed clear she was no longer the enemy. Even when he had though her thus, he couldn’t help but be drawn into the hidden depths that lurked in those flickering green eyes. They looked to hold more mysteries than any exotic jungle.
And likely were just as dangerous, he chided himself. Lud, he must still be suffering the effect of the fever and the drugs. He hadn’t reacted this way to a female since … He paused to think.
Since never.The spoon rattled against the chipped bowl. It was simple lust, that was all. Lust made oddly edgy by the strange circumstances.
Of course, as a gentleman he would control such base urges, for he had never been one to prey on young innocents. And he would also see her reputation didn’t suffer for her involvement with him. It shouldn’t be too difficult to cover up the fact that they had spent several nights unchaperoned at a public inn. No one need know. He would see her safely to the main road to the border, before continuing on his own mission.
Satisfied that he had thought of everything, he set the tray aside and blew out the single candle. His head had nearly settled against the pillow when an oath slipped from his lips. Then another.
Hell’s Teeth!It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t even know her name!
Aurora tuggedon her nightrail and slipped between the scratchy sheets. She should be exhausted, having spent half the previous night tending to the feverish stranger and a good part of the day arranging for the doctor and medicines. Not to speak of convincing the rather suspicious innkeeper that nothing too havey-cavey was going on upstairs in his dusty little chambers.
Yet sleep was proving elusive. She turned on her side, then on to her back. No doubt she should have shoved the dratted man from the carriage at the first opportunity. Why, he was no different than most males—odious, overbearing and smugly sure he was right, even when logic and fact dared contradict such opinion.
So why, every time she closed her eyes, did she picture a blue as mesmerizing as any jewel and a crooked smile that gave the hard planes of unshaven face a boyish charm. Even those stubbly black whiskers had captured her imagination. They had looked to be so intriguingly different from anything she had ever felt, that, to her acute embarrassment, she hadn’t been able to refrain from running her hand along the line of his jaw several times while he had been sleeping.
Nor had her gaze been able to keep from straying over the corded muscles of his chest, so contoured and so utterly different from her own gently rounded curves. Of course she had known men were different. She just hadn’t known how different, having never seen a bare chest before. There was hair,for one thing. Soft, curling wisps that had been surprisingly silky beneath her fingers. Her cheeks grew hot as she was forced to admit that yes, she touched them as well.
It was only natural that she had been curious, she told herself, defiant bravado seeking to silence her own uncertainties. After all, it seemed highly unlikely she would ever get this close to a naked—or near naked—man again in her life, so she had better make the most of it.
And she had. The heat moved from her face to a lower portion of her anatomy as she recalled stealing a peek under the sheet …
The landlord had been convinced, for the outrageous sum of a guinea, to part with an old nightshirt. For another few shillings he had consented to put it on the unconscious soldier. It was too short and too wide for him, exposing a good deal of long, hairy leg. The fact that it was of thin cotton exposed something else—that below the unbuttoned front of the garment, he was also very male.
Aurora was not quite a green girl. The distressed women she dealt with were graphically frank about the goings on between the sexes, so there was probably not much that she hadn’t heard, though, to be honest, some of it seemed to defy the laws of logic or physics. Still, it was hard to imagine that, well, a man could become any bigger.
She rolled over and punched at the pillow, hoping to fight off such strange musings, as well as the disturbing tingle that seemed to be spreading out from her very core. It was not as if she was sorry that she would never be pressed up against a broad chest peppered with dark hair. Or that she would never feel muscled legs entwined with hers. Or that she would never be filled with the seed that might give her a child.
And she was certainly not sorry that she had never been kissed. She would have punched the rogue if he had leaneda fraction closer. Instead, she punched the pillow yet again to knock out all thoughts of a pair of glittering sapphire eyes.
Hell’s Teeth!It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t even know his name!
Four
Aslight jiggling of the iron door latch brought Alex instantly awake. Cursing himself for not having taken the precaution of turning the lock, he rolled from the narrow mattress and landed lightly on his toes. Though weak, his legs at least felt steady, and his mind was no longer fuzzed with fever and pain killers. The pale moonlight showed the blade of a knife probing, testing to see if any latch was fastened on the inside. Then the sliver of steel disappeared and the hinges gave a tiny creak as a cloaked figure slipped into the room.
Alex made a lunge at the outstretched hand that held the knife, hoping to use the element of surprise to make up for his diminished strength. The weapon did indeed go clattering across the planked floor, but intruder shook off his hand as if it were no more bothersome than a small terrier.
“Ah, Major Fenimore,” came a low voice, muffled by several layers of a dark scarf. ”Or should I say, Major Lord Woodbridge. You are proving to be a difficult fellow to shove into the grave.”
“I have always disliked being bullied, especially by craven cowards. My father might have told you that had he not floated himself across the River Styx on a bottle of brandy. But perhapsyou may follow and ask him yourself—you and your cohort who is now serving as sustenance for the crabs off the Isle of Arran.”
What might have been a laugh sounded from within the cloth. “You may find me a bit more adept than poor Horton. You saved me a bullet, getting rid of the incompetent fool. But now I intend to finish the job he was paid to do.” He dropped into a fighter’s crouch, feinting, left, then right, in an attempt to force the earl to retreat a step or two. There was little space to maneuver in the cramped room, and Alex knew he could not afford to be cornered, for with his injury he would be no match for other man in hand to hand combat. No, he would have to use guile to fight his way out of this.
