Page 18 of The Lord's Compass
Faith began to murmur, and he leaned over, settling his weight on the bed next to her.
“Faith?”
“Eric?” she said, her eyes blinking open sleepily. “What are you—oh!”
She pushed herself up into a sitting position as she looked around the small room.
“You forgot where you were?”
“Yes,” she said, looking up at him, and he had to admit that he liked seeing her like this, all dishevelled and far from the perfect princess she was always so concerned with portraying. “How was the floor?”
“Fine,” he lied. He didn’t want to give her any further reason to think that she had to return to her room. “How did you sleep?”
“Quite well, actually,” she said. “Especially considering all that occurred last night.”
“Must be because you knew that you had a handsome knight by your side.”
“Must be,” she said, although she frowned and Eric realized the levity of earlier was gone, as she had redonned her usual armour. “I’d like to dress for the day before we break our fast if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” he said. “I shall go next door to your former room until you are ready.”
“But you are not prepared for the day yourself.”
“Not yet,” he said, before walking over to the wardrobe, opening it and finding his shirt and breeches within. With his back to Faith, he stripped his nightshirt over his head, leaving himself bare to her, before he began to dress himself, unable to keep from looking over his shoulder to see her reaction.
She was still sitting in bed, the linen bunched around her waist, but her mouth was open wide, gaping at him.
“What are you doing?” she finally managed.
“Dressing.”
“But—I am right here!”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“But it bothersme!”
“Turn around then,” he said, before bending over to pick up his breeches, knowing he flashed her a look at his bottom, which, if he did say so himself, was quite well-defined and known to be an asset with women.
She let out an “eep” before diving under the blankets, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“It’s fine to like what you see!” he called out, and her only response was a muffled, “I cannot see anything!” from beneath the covers.
Aware that she would not be re-emerging, he dressed quickly, as best he could without his valet. It had been some time since he had done so, but he knew that having an English valet accompanying him would be of no help to the guise he was attempting to portray.
“You can come out now,” he called, and Faith held the blanket up to cover her face except for peeking out with one eye as though distrustful of him before she fully uncovered herself. “How will you dress without a lady’s maid?” he asked.
“I found dresses with larger fastenings,” she said. “I will be able to dress myself.”
“Well, I’m happy to help,” he said, but she was shaking her head before he even finished his offer.
“I shall be fine,” she said, and he shrugged before doing as she wished and leaving the room. He stood outside the door, nodding to the few passengers who strode by, watching for this Mr. Smith. He hadn’t yet decided what he would do when he faced the man again. He may have let it go last night and would not be doing anything in view of the other passengers, but he would make it quite clear to the man that a threat toward Faith would not be tolerated – and now, as her “husband,” he had a very valid reason for doing so.
He heard her call out, “Come in,” and he re-entered the room, finding her standing there with her hands on her hips, a frown on her face, and her dress gaping open at the back.
“Do you require some assistance?” he asked, closing the door behind him and leaning one hip against the wall as he smirked at her.
She glared at him. “No need to gloat.”
