Page 44 of The Miracle of Love
“Don’t try, Grace. You haven’t my endurance and must not be brave for my sake. No one is following us. We can stop at any point. The greater danger is frostbite. You must tell me at once if you start to lose feeling in your fingers and toes.”
“I will, but I am well bundled. Let’s keep going.”
“Promise me. There is no point in making a martyr of yourself.”
“All right, I promise.”
But not long afterward, he tugged on his reins and asked if she wished to stop.
Grace drew up on her reins as well. “Would you be stopping now if you were on your own? The truth, Deklan.”
Their horses were snorting vapor through their noses, he was cold, and knew that Grace had to be much worse off and likely on the verge of frostbite. “We are hours south of London and the weather is treacherous. Yes, I would stop now. There’s an inn I have in mind not far from here.”
“I have the feeling you are doing this for my sake,” she muttered. “Women are hardier than you give us credit for.”
“I have no wish to put it to the proof.” He spurred his mount and trotted ahead, always making sure Grace was either beside him or close behind.
The horses were spent and he was worried about having pushed Grace beyond reason. Soon enough, they reached the turnoff for the inn. “Not much longer now,” he said.
She was a proud, little thing. But it was not wise to stay proud under these harsh conditions. “I will admit, I am ready to stop. My horse is tiring and so am I. My fingers and toes are beginning to numb.”
“So are mine.”
She patted her mare’s neck. “There, girl. You’ll be warm and well fed soon.”
He liked Grace’s determination.
Yes, she was gently bred and quite sentimental. Probably too compassionate for her own good. However, he knew better than to mistake those qualities for lack of strength or spirit.
Grace seemed to have a deep well of both in reserve.
In truth, she was proving herself to be as capable as any experienced agent. He thought it was entirely possible she would find the stolen crown and with it save England, her mother and siblings, and herself.
He stifled a grin.
He had thought their chances of success quite slim at first.
Not anymore.
Knowing Grace– and he was slowly getting to know her better– she would not stop at merely saving the day and averting war. She would press on until she saved her father and that decidedly unworthy brother of hers.
Well, he doubted the brother could be saved.
But if anyone could manage that miracle, it would be Grace.
He dismounted and led his tiring horse on foot the rest of the distance.
The Blue Moon Inn was an old and rambling stone manor nestled off the beaten path amid the hills of the North Downs. Deklan noticed a torchlight in the distance and recognized it as a marker to guide travelers toward the inn. “Here we go. The inn is at the end of this lane, Grace.”
Their progress was slow because the path was steep and winding. They had to make their way in darkness because the trees hid much of the moonlight even though their branches were devoid of leaves.
If not for the glimmers of torchlight in the distance, it would have been impossible to tell where they were or how far they still had to go to reach their shelter.
Grace was shivering noticeably by the time they arrived. Deklan quickly rang the bell hanging frozen and dripping with icicles beside the large door.
The inn’s occupants would have retired some time ago since the hour was well past midnight judging by the position of the moon. He helped Grace dismount, but kept his arms around her after wrapping her in his cloak. He held her against his body to warm her while they waited for the innkeeper to open the door.
“I’ll be all right,” she insisted, her words belied by her chattering teeth. “Let’s see to the horses first.”
