Page 53 of Fair Weather Enemies
Barlow slowly cleared his throat. “Someone must lose, though. There can be only one winner here. The contract states so.”
Adam sighed. Barlow was only half right. Despite Barlow’s commiseration, he did not understand the fullness of the truth. He made one final attempt to explain it to the man.
“Simon, Mr. Rutley has put Jane and me into a maze with no exit, a trap with no lever, a cell with no key. Regardless of the outcome of this journey, Jane and I will both suffer for the rest of our lives. I see no other way.”
Barlow fell silent, apparently unable to argue the point. Adam rolled again to his back to regard the stars, hoping to recapture the peace he had felt minutes earlier. An hour stretched into two without a return of contentment. Eventually, his weary mind slipped into the well of sleep, a brief respite from the insidious maze.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Four miles into the journey from the stone circle toward Ambleside, Jane struggled to beat back annoyance. She failed to accurately identify the source of her discontent. Perhaps the strain of the journey was taking a toll on her body and mind. Weariness settled more heavily upon her than on previous days. Each step seemingly required more effort than before. Rough spots along the cart path felt more onerous to circumvent. Dust made each breath more labored. She blamed long days of walking, the burden of the hunt, and a night sleeping on cold earth.
However, as much as she wished to blame her physical state for her pique, she suspected another cause. Adam had remained uncharacteristically silent for two hours since their departure from the stone circle. He answered questions and spoke to Barlow or Aunt Hester in brief snatches, but otherwise ignored Jane. She watched from behind as he forged ahead of her. He did not appear to suffer the same physical indignity as she did, instead dragging Beelzebub along the cart path with his usual vigor. Despite his silence, he looked strong, even refreshed. Outdoor living seemed to agree with him. She struggled to prevent that observation from adding to her annoyance. With a deep sigh and a gathering of gumption, she lifted her hem, slipped by the unpredictable horse, and hurried forward to walk alongside Adam. He glanced down at her, his expression neutral.
“Jane.”
“Adam.”
She allowed the silence to continue only a minute before failing to restrain her pique. “Although we appear to no longer be speaking, we should at least review the next lines of the letter.”
His brows lifted before his features softened. “My apologies, Jane. I did not mean to give the impression that I was withholding conversation.”
“However, you very much appear to be withholding conversation. Were you?”
He stared ahead at the road. “I suppose I was.”
“Why?”
He shook his head and lifted his palms. “I can’t say precisely. Mostly, I am simply lost in a wilderness of thought. This journey. This, this, this…cursed contract with Rutley. It stoops my shoulders and bends my back. I cannot muster words to sufficiently explain.”
She nodded commiseration, relieved that his reticence to speak seemed not a result of displeasure with her. “You need not explain. I understand. A weariness begins to settle into my bones and a malady into my soul. I wander the same wilderness. Given our mutual disorientation, perhaps we might wander together for a while.”
Her suggestion turned up one corner of his mouth, revealing in small measure the easy nature that had been absent all morning. “Capital proposition. If we are to make this burdensome journey, we should at least walk side by side.”
He paused, clearly wrestling with something unsaid. She waited. Her patience produced dividends when he finally gave it voice.
“Jane. I apologize.”
“You already did so.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “No, not for that. For everything else.”
When she peered up at him, he failed to hold her gaze. He watched instead his striding feet. Again, she waited. Again, he rewarded her.
“That day at Rutley’s office, the day we signed the contract. I did not know you as I do now. I assumed much about you, most of it incorrect. I had forgotten too much. Signing the contract seemed the simpler task, while a journey in your company seemed the more difficult one.” He drifted to a halt and faced her. “But now…now the tasks have traded positions. Now that I remember who you are and not what I’d created in my head. I simply wish to apologize for my poor judgment. I should have bargained for another way. One that saves us both.”
His apology surprised her, even though she had sensed it coming. It became her turn to stare at the ground. “I will forgive you, Adam, only if you forgive me of the same failing.”
He chuckled lightly. “Very well. We stand mutually forgiven. Now, instead of simply standing, let us continue walking while we discuss the next lines.”
He rocked into motion with a yank of the horse’s lead, and she joined him. After a few steps, they produced their respective letters. She read first.
“Betwixt water’s edge and the hip of Goliath.”
“Make for the marsh where the ancient fort lieth.” He looked up from his letter. “The mysterious writer of the letters certainly held an affinity for giants.”
She laughed. “It seems so. His metaphorical bag of tricks appears to have been limited. Why not a troll, or an ogre, or even a dragon to break up the monotony?”
“Yes. We already found a giant. A dragon may have proved more challenging.”
