The Raven's Revenge (7 page)

She heaved a shuddering breath and pushed the memory away.
 

He tightened his arms around her as he slapped the reins.

They started down the drive, through the long border of stately oak trees. Katherine’s stomach pitched and tossed with each movement of the horse, even though they traveled slowly. They passed by the dark gatehouse, pausing while Jeremy unlatched and opened the gate. The loud and unavoidable creaking did not wake the old, deaf gatekeeper.

Katherine craned her neck to get a last glimpse of Ashfield. Even atop a horse, she was glad to be leaving—glad of every step that put distance between her and a terrible future. Glad, as well, to have a strong escort in Nicholas and a loyal one in Jeremy. Taking a deep breath, she turned her head frontward. She wished to never see Ashfield again.

As Nicholas urged the mount forward, her stomach lurched. She stifled a cry, grabbing at his hands. He tightened his arms around her. She felt pinpricks on her arm from Montford’s claws as the cat readjusted inside her cloak.

“I’ll keep you safe, lass,” Nicholas said, his low voice rumbling in her ear.

A rush of warmth ran through her and she shivered.

When had he stopped calling her Katherine and started calling her lass? And when had she stopped thinking of him as Mr. Eddington, or the Raven
,
and started thinking of him as Nicholas?

Katherine dragged in a breath. Tree branches rustled in the light wind. The rhythmic clop-clop-clop of the horses’ hooves echoed into the darkness, soothing her fears, lulling her. She sagged against him, easing her head into the curve of his neck, breathing in his exotic scent.

Katherine blinked hard and straightened up. What had come over her? Just because the man gave her comfort and promised her safety, did not mean she should not keep her wits about her. What would she do if thieves set upon them? Or highwaymen? Would highwaymen give other highwayman trouble? Was there some sort of Brotherhood of Outlaws? Did they have a code of conduct? Katherine bit her lip. It seemed quite unlikely.

As important, would Nicholas be the gentleman she hoped he was? So far, his actions had been unpredictable: either alarming or protective. Letting out a slow sigh, she acknowledged it was too late to have doubts. He was her best chance for freedom, and she had already gone too far to turn back. He had said his outlaw days were behind him, at least for now. And even though she did not understand why, she felt safe in the shelter of his arms. She would have to be content with that.

Katherine took a couple easy breaths to settle her stomach. A heady courage began to replace the fear coursing through her veins. Even though Cousin Alicia didn’t know she was coming, Katherine began to think for the first time in quite a long while that everything
could
turn out all right.

Katherine settled into Nicholas’s arms. Before long, her regular breathing told him she’d fallen asleep. He’d carefully kept their pace slow and easy to allay her fright.

Assessing the moon’s position, he surmised that even at this pace, they would reach the inn in three or four hours, arriving at dawn.

When he’d first returned to Dorsetshire, he’d deliberately chosen to stay some distance from Ashfield. Although he’d been gone seventeen years, and even though he bore scant resemblance to the angry eleven year-old boy who had left, memories could be long, and Nicholas had no desire to be recognized. He had given the innkeeper a false name, and so far, he was confident no one had noticed that the Earl of Ashton had returned.

But there was no question about it. He was back.

Nicholas looked down at his prize, watched her head bob with each plodding step of the horse. A wisp of hair had come loose from the prison of her cap and dangled across her tender nape. A sudden overwhelming need to nestle his face into that delicate curve possessed him. Instead, he readjusted her sleeping form. As her head repositioned into the crook of his neck, the scent of lavender wafted up to him. Nicholas closed his eyes and shuddered at the sudden rush of desire that ran through him.

The sound of horse hooves coming closer seeped into his awareness. He opened his eyes to see Jeremy had ridden up beside him.

He’d forgotten about the boy.

In the dim moonlight, he could see the lad wore an unmistakable scowl.

Nicholas scowled back. 

* * *

Katherine cracked open an eye. They had stopped moving.

Dawn painted rosy streaks across the sky. A sign announced, by both picture and word, that they had arrived at the
Ram’s Head Inn
. Warm inside the curve of Nicholas’s arms, she yawned and looked around the well-tended courtyard. Two benches made from logs cut in half sat outside a sturdy wooden door. The windows were still shuttered against the night, but smoke poured out of a chimney at the back of the unassuming building, attesting to the beginning of a new day.

Nicholas dismounted, caught her by the waist and swung her down. Her legs buckled when her feet touched the ground, and she sagged against him, clutching Montford to her chest. Nicholas did not let go of her, but held her close—too close for the cat, wedged between them.

Montford mewed in protest.

Nicholas’s eyes met hers. A jolt of physical awareness tingled through her, and all sleepiness vanished. Katherine gasped at her reaction. He held her steady for a long moment before putting her from him. This time, after a slight sway, she held her own weight. As soon as she was stable, he walked off.

Shaken and bereft of Nicholas’s strong presence and warmth, Katherine began to shiver. She tightened her cloak against the morning chill and watched him give instructions to a stable boy.

Jeremy looked her way and their gazes met across the courtyard.

She blushed, still overcome by her intense response to Nicholas.

The front door burst open. The innkeeper, a short stout man, flew out to greet them.

“Master Abernathy,” he cried. “’Tis pleased I am at your safe return.”

Abernathy?
Katherine’s head spun to Nicholas.

“Afraid I would not be back to pay my bill, you mean.” Nicholas chuckled.

The innkeeper stopped in his tracks and acted as if he’d been stabbed in the heart. “You cut me to the quick,” he exclaimed. “In your absence, Molly has been sulking and Henry off to his room. I am hoping your return will put all back as it should be.”

“Then let us begin with my belly.” Nicholas rubbed his stomach. “I have a powerful hunger this morn.”

“Aye.” The stout man nodded and cast a curious glance at Katherine as he led them inside.

Jeremy stayed behind with the stable boy and the horses.

The common room was crude but clean. Loud banging in the kitchen, accompanied by the smell of bread baking, set Katherine’s stomach growling. The innkeeper settled them at a table. A few minutes later a sleepy-eyed serving girl set a loaf of warm bread, and an assortment of cold meats, cheese, and pickled herring before them.

Katherine washed down a bite of the cheese with small ale. Not so good as that made at Ashfield under her guidance, yet still marvelously thirst quenching, and perhaps better because she was
not
at Ashfield. A feeling of elation ran through her, and she smiled.

Nicholas stared at the rare sight of Katherine smiling. All severity gone, a glow radiated from within her. She almost looked pretty. Her lips, usually pulled into a thin line, looked soft. Kissable. It had been too many days since he’d been with a woman.
 

He was beginning to count how many, when his thoughts were disturbed by footsteps hastening down the hall. A man’s voice burst into the peacefulness of the room.

“Nicky! Where ha’ ye been?” 

Nicholas’s head whipped around as Henry advanced toward their table. The man’s usually neat appearance was gone. His shirt was dirty, his eyes bloodshot, and a white cloth wrapped from the top of his head to his jaw made him look quite mad.

“Where have ye been?” Henry repeated. “It’s worried to death, I’ve been, waiting for ye here. Back before morning, ye said.” He swallowed, his large Adam’s apple bobbing. “And when the horse came back without ye…. I’d heard ye were shot…thought ye were dead…” His voice trailed off as he looked at Katherine. “Who—?”

“Henry,” Nicholas cut him off, alarmed the man might give it all away before he had a chance to warn him. “I did not wish to wake you, and my sister here—“ he made a meaningful glance and nodded at Katherine.

He ignored the looks of astonishment on both Henry’s and Katherine’s faces and continued. “My sister and I needed to break our fast after our long journey, so I decided we should eat now and announce our presence to you after.”

A commotion on the table diverted their attention. Montford clenched a piece of herring in her teeth. Growling, the kitten slowly backed to the table edge, hair straight up on an arched back.

Nicholas chuckled.

Katherine smiled. “Aright puss.” She picked up the feline, avoiding four sets of sharp claws, and placed Montford at her feet on the wooden floor.

“Would you like to join us for a bite too?” Nicholas invited Henry.

“I thank ye, no.” He rubbed one side of his bound jaw gently. “’Tis me tooth again. I cannot chew. ’Tis also making me a bit peevish.”

“I had not noticed,” Nicholas said drolly, picking up a bit of cheese with the tip of his knife and popping it into his mouth.

Katherine spoke to Henry. “Have you tried clove for your tooth?”

Henry shook his head and grimaced. “It’s brandy I’ve been trying mostly, and a very strange decoction the landlord’s daughter gave me.” His mouth formed a crooked smile. “It made me tongue blister, it did, but it didn’t help me tooth, except that me tongue hurt so bad I forgot about the tooth awhile.”

Nicholas pulled a hunk of bread from the loaf. “You are well enough to travel?”

Henry pulled the ragged cloth from his head. “Aye,” he nodded. “Where to now?”

“We are to London,” Katherine told him.

Nicholas gave her a censuring frown. “Do not say it so loud, lass. Do you want the whole of Dorsetshire to know where we’re headed?”

Katherine looked down at her lap.

At once Nicholas felt contrite. “In truth,” he said more gently. “We need to be gone quick. We’ll eat, I shall settle my account with the landlord, and we’ll be back on the road.” He turned to Henry. “We’ve brought a groom with us—a boy, and some sorry horse-flesh. The boy can help you in the stables.” He sent the man a glance that said
I’ll explain all later
.
 

Henry nodded and left the room.

“More riding so soon?” Katherine sighed, disappointment written across her face.

“We cannot stop here, lass. They would find us before supper. We need to stay well ahead of them.”

“Do you think they come after us,” she swallowed, “even now?”

“No.” He smiled. “My guess is they are just discovering your absence, and within the next few hours will be on the road in pursuit. Still, ’tis best we get on our way soon.”

She nodded; her mouth drew into a tight line.

“Cheer up, lass. I will not let them get you.” Nicholas took a bite of the crusty bread. “Now it is time to eat. ’Twill be a long day on the road, and we won’t stop again before nightfall.”

At the thought of getting back on a horse, Katherine’s muscles groaned. Nicholas’s arms had been comfortable, but she had not slept well. Still, they had made much better progress than had they been on foot.

As the room filled with villagers stopping in for their morning draught before moving on, Katherine made an effort to eat. Each time someone walked in, she sank as far into the solid oak bench as possible, but no one looked at her.

Nicholas, on the other hand, drew the eye. Though not exactly handsome, his presence was commanding. The streak of white running through his otherwise ebony hair was a striking bit of audacity. Thank goodness, they would be looking for her and not him. As if to prove this, a loud voice cut through the general buzz of conversation.

“Nicky!” A robust serving-maid headed in their direction with two large tankards grasped in one hand, her face all smiles. “’Tis glad I am t’see ye returned in one piece,” she exclaimed. “When yer horse came back w’out ye, ’twas thought ye’d come to some harm.”

“Molly,” Nicholas brought his hand about her waist and pulled her to him, planting a kiss on an ample breast that threatened to burst from her tight bodice. “Surely I missed you, my girl.”

“Away w’ ye, now,” said Molly, batting at his hand.

Katherine pursed her lips. Heat rushed to her cheeks. She glanced around the room, but no one seemed to notice. Yet, in such proximity, she could not avoid it. Keeping her eyes averted from Nicholas and the maid, she swallowed, and pushed her mug away.

“Pray excuse me,” she mumbled and rose.

Nicholas put a staying hand upon her arm. He shook his head, his eyes urging her back into her seat. Katherine shrugged him off, but sat down anyway.

“Not now, Molly, you can see my sister does not approve.”

Molly eyed Katherine and clucked her tongue. “Is she a Puritan, or one of them Quakers?”

He shook his head. “Nay, she is a widow.”

Molly extricated herself from Nicholas’s embrace and smoothed her skirt with her hands. Then she reached over and gave Katherine’s shoulder a pat. “Sorry I am to hear of it. I miss me Harry, I do. It’s been almost two years and I still grieve for the scamp.” She sighed, and then her smile returned as she turned to yell at a couple of farmers who had been calling her, “Comin’, comin’, cannot ye see I’m busy?” She guffawed before bouncing off to serve them.

Katherine looked at the table, avoiding Nicholas’s gaze.

“You disapprove?” he asked.

“’Tis of no matter whether I approve or not,” she answered. “But ’tis not seemly, nor prudent to draw attention in a public place.”

“Such behavior is common in a place like this.”

Katherine sniffed. “That may be so. I would not know.”

Nicholas reached across the table and took her hand, cradling it between his two larger ones. He drew slow circles on her palm with a finger, sending strange feelings through her. She tried to pull her hand away but he did not release it. Finally, she looked at him.