Page 52 of Slippers and Thorns
He also had to escort her into and around the building. That might not have been strictly necessary, but it helped maintain appearances, and she didn’t really mind it so much. Even if she had to walk closer to him than she preferred at the moment, walking with a hand on his arm wasn’t intimate, so she could live with it.
Now that they had safely registered their room and stowed their belongings, Michael and Ella were seated in the common dining room enjoying the supper provided by their host. As Michael had predicted, no one had batted an eye at their story.
The dining room was a little larger than the one in which they ate family suppers back at Hartford Castle. It had one long wooden table running down the middle that was laden with serving dishes. Not as many as at Hartford, of course, and not as varied in their contents. But the food tasted good, and that was the important part.
There was a large fireplace on one side of the room with a cheery fire chasing the cold away. While Ella hadn’t minded riding in the chill weather, she was pleased to now have that fire at her back. She had been starting to shiver by the time they arrived at the inn.
“How is your soup?” Michael politely asked from his seat next to her. Wearing his perfect court smile, he lifted another spoonful of his own soup to his mouth and blew lightly to cool it.
“It’s delicious,” Ella replied with a smile only slightly more real than his. She was tempted to lean in and tell him to relax and act more like a commoner, but she didn’t. After all, he might relax into the Affectionate Husband role, which was the last thing she wanted.
Looking casually around the table, she observed the clump of men that was their guards. They had claimed to be a squad of the regular guard traveling to an outpost in the northeast. Such movements were common, so no one questioned them. They changed into off-duty clothing before slipping down to the dining room in pairs (one of which “happened to” walk down with Michael and Ella) and taking seats at the opposite end of the table from the young couple, so no one had seen their royal guard insignia, either.
Watching the guardsmen was an interesting study in their different personalities. Jake, the over-eager puppy, sat a little too straight in his chair and spent too much time sweeping the room with his eyes, obviously on duty to anyone paying enough attention. Henry sat next to him, joking with him to relieve his serious aspect and occasionally swatting him lightly in the back of the head when he grew too intense, which made Jake turn and growl at his neighbor. Charlie leaned back, smiling as he conversed easily with the middle-aged innkeeper’s wife, who held a full pitcher of water for the table. Oliver appeared to be reviewing reports, but without lifting his head, his dark eyes casually roamed the room at frequent intervals, covertly keeping watch. The others similarly consumed their meals with an appearance of casual camaraderie while staying alert for anything that might endanger their charges.
It was interesting how much better they were at pretending to not be guarding when they were admitting to being guards than when they were pretending to be normal citizens.
All eight of them, though, carefully kept themselves from making eye contact with Ella or Michael after their initial careless acknowledgment on entering the room. Anyone who happened to be watching would never have guessed that the guard company knew the young couple, let alone that they were their protectors.
“Would you like a roll, Ella?” Michael inquired, drawing Ella’s attention back to him.
She selected a piece of bread from the woven basket he held out to her. “Thank you, Mike.” His smile settled into something more natural at her use of the nickname, even though it was part of the act. As he placed the bowl back on the table, she tore a chunk off and dipped it in her soup.
Michael’s elbow brushed her arm. It was such a small movement that she couldn’t be sure if it was intentional or an accident. Not that she would hold it against him if it was the former, as long as he didn’t progress to something more involved.
She was grateful that he hadn’t protested when she made her request. She wanted to be free for the journey badly enough that she might have agreed to the whole storyline even if he had refused. After all, it wasn’t that she disliked the feel of his hands. Quite the contrary! But she was determined not to be suckered into letting him back in. She might be his wife, but that didnotmake her a possession to be picked up when convenient and left alone when not.
Risking a glance at him, Ella tried to decide what she thought of his decision to pursue their current course. When he first suggested it, she thought it was a sign that he was making an effort to care about her. Then he dropped the bit about their sleeping arrangements, and all her hope that he did actually value her went up in smoke. It was all a clever ploy to get what he wanted, dressed in the pretty wrapping of giving her somethingshewanted.
Her jaw began to tighten again just thinking about it. How dare he! Howdarehe try to—!
She snuck another glance at him. Michael was staring at the opposite wall, his fingers idly pulling pieces off of his roll and dropping them in his empty soup bowl, completely lost in thought.
He had been reserved most of the day, too. More so after they finished “agreeing on their story”. Ella felt her jaw soften. Whatever his goal in suggesting this, hehadagreed to her demand. And when they were alone in their room before dinner, he had been as good as his word: he had not only not touched her, he had kept a respectful distance as they settled in.
“What are you thinking about?” When Michael didn’t react, Ella nudged him gently with her elbow. He jerked slightly before turning towards her. “What are you thinking about?” she repeated.
“Hmm? Oh.” He ducked his head. “I was thinking about all the things I was supposed to be doing today,” he sheepishly admitted. “And wondering how Justin is faring.”
“I’m sure your father wouldn’t have given the responsibility to him if he didn’t think he could handle it,” Ella said softly. “Justin is a very clever young man; he’ll do fine.”
Michael sighed. “That’s what I keep telling myself.” He dropped the rest of his roll into the bowl. “But he lacks experience.”
“Don’t worry, Mike,” Ella soothed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. The man was a workaholic. Yes, what he did was incredibly important. He did run a kingdom, after all. But his father was a very competent king. It was unlikely that he would send his oldest son away on a vacation unless he was sure he had things under control. She lightly patted his arm where it rested on the table. “It’s going to be fine.”
Michael looked at her hand where it touched him. His other hand twitched as if to join it, but it stayed where it was.
Ella slowly withdrew her hand and began eating again. What had she been thinking, initiating contact like that? It wasn’t as if she was in the habit of comforting him, or anyone, for that matter. What if he used it as an excuse to respond in kind?
She spent the rest of the meal worrying about it, but Michael didn’t do anything, not even something as innocuous as holding her hand.
When Michael and Ella were almost finished with their dessert, the pair of guardsmen that had been there the longest stood and excused themselves to their tablemates. By the merest coincidence, they were loitering in the hallway, chatting about the next day’s journey, as Ella left the dining room on Michael’s arm, but they started moving towards their rooms after the young couple passed them.
Ella dropped Michael’s arm as soon as the door was closed behind them and scurried to an armchair next to the fire. She watched nervously as Michael loosened the collar of his shirt. He had restrained himself while they were in view of others; was this when her impulsive actions at dinner would come back to haunt her? Would he claim that she had communicated a longing for his touch?
All he did, though, was amble over to the other armchair and drop into it with a slight groan. Stretching out his legs, he slouched down, leaned his head back against the headrest, and closed his eyes.
Ella considered asking him if he was okay or if anything was the matter, but she was afraid the inquiry might be viewed as an opening, so she held her peace.
