Page 54 of The Ladies Least Likely
“Sneezewort,” she said. “Chewing the root is good for toothache. I carry a powder of it when I travel to deter anyone who wishes to meddle with me.”
Pen laughed, though it made his chest hurt. He hadn’t thought Gap-tooth had landed any punches to his midsection, but he might have missed something in his red haze of fury. His face was on fire. Gwen told him to lie down in his room while she boiled comfrey leaves to make a compress.
He didn’t want to leave her, but bed sounded wonderful. He was weary from little sleep the night before. He’d been given a blanket to roll out on the kitchen floor at Pencoed beside severalother traveling servants whose masters had elected to stay the night. Then there was the day-long battle to keep from trying to kiss Gwen at every opportunity. On top of that, the emotional turmoil of recognizing Penrydd Castle, and his connection to it—how did he own a bloody castle, and come from a line of viscounts? And that was before Gap-tooth had dealt him a facer.
As he left, Dovey came into the kitchen, her eyes wide with alarm. Pen paused in the hallway, pricking his ears.
“Who beat him now?” Dovey whispered, feeding the stove to heat water.
“A pair of ruffians at the bridge, who appear to have been stowing away in the castle. I’ll tell Mr. Stanley about it.” A pause. “I think they admitted to attacking him before. One of them said they’d been hired.”
A small gasp. “What if he thinks it wasus?”
“He could. We have to find out what those men are doing. And who was behind the attack.”
“Did you say anything?” Dovey said after a moment of silence. Pen pressed against the wall, holding his breath.
“I took him to Penrydd,” Gwen said in a low voice. “Showed him the house.”
“And he remembered?”
“He had some reaction to it. As if it seemed familiar. But he didn’t say much.”
“Then we don’t know what he knows,” Dovey said quietly.
“Doveybach,” Gwen said after another moment passed. Pen leaned in to hear over the steaming hiss of the kettle. “I know you want to let him remember?—”
“Until we can come up with a good reason for?—”
“But what if he’s in danger here? What if those men are after him?”
There was a clatter, a brief pounding, then Dovey’s voice, low and urgent. “What happened while you were away?”
“I kissed him. Again.”
Pen reared back, surprised at the confession. He would have lied, himself. Surely Gwen was a great hand at lying. Her voice changed, became muffled. “We—danced. We talked. He’s?—”
Pen willed his heart to stop pounding in his ears so he mighthear, damn it.
“Different,” Gwen said finally. “Not the man I met at the tavern.”
“He’ll go right back to that when his memory returns,” Dovey said.
“Will he? I wonder. Maybe it’s best if we…”
Tell me.The inner voice had turned frantic.Tell me everything!
“Gwen.” Dovey’s voice was threaded with fear. “You said it yourself. There are dangerous men out there. If he turns us out, what happens to Cerys and me?”
“I’ll take care of you,” Gwen said. “I promise.”
“How, dearling? You don’t have any money either.”
Utter silence fell in the kitchen. Pen peeked around the doorframe. Gwen stood at the table, wrapping a clump of wet leaves in a strip of linen. Dovey moved close and touched her arm.
“Can we wait a bit longer? At least until the men are gone and the danger is over. Cerys can’t be out there alone. Not like this.”
Gwen placed a hand over her friend’s. “I’ll wait,” she said. “But if he is starting to remember…”
