With This Ring (28 page)

So when the tales of evil Black Aaron reached the Green Donkey Inn—shiveringly good gossip of seduction, treachery, and doom that made all the folk belowstairs nod their heads as if they’d spotted the bad’un from the first—Edith had no call to feel betrayed.

So why did her heart feel torn to breaking?

Whether or not his lordship had seduced and destroyed that girl years ago was no concern of hers, now, was it?
Edith’s mother had tended the good and the bad, all equal.

“Let God sort them out,” she would say.
“I’ve got me hands full.”

So Edith steeped the tisane of medicinal herbs, just as she always did, and she carried the tray up the stairs, just as she always did.

However, when she set the tea on the small table kept just outside the chamber so she could knock and turn the latch, the shaking of her hands had everything to do with Lord Aaron.

And no matter how she scolded herself, she could not help but suck in her breath at his welcoming smile.

What business did a lord have, smiling like that at a poor serving maid?
He had to know he was handsome and fine!
To make a girl’s heart flip in her chest, to tempt and tease nonsense dreams from a mind that should be set on more practical matters—why, it was nothing short of cruel, it was.

How glad she was that she’d learned of his true nature, and could now see him as he was!
Jumping for joy, she was.

Except that her eyes stung and her heart ached worse with every beat and her hands shook so that she spattered the boiling tea on herself like a silly, credulous cow!

His lordship noticed at once, so keen was his predatory gaze.
“Now, now!
Take care for yourself, little one!
Have you burned your hand?”

False concern!
Bait for the trap!

Kindness.
Goodness beneath the veneer of badness.

Oh, which man was he?

She looked up to see that he’d thrown off his covers and climbed out of his bed.
Even in the nightshirt and bare feet, he was a fine-looking fellow.
His dark hair was tousled and a bit too long so that it fell over his brows.
His color was much better today, his skin flushed and tanned once more.
His snapping blue eyes were bright and fixed upon her as if she actually mattered to a man such as him.

She could see how that girl in London could make herself mad unto death over him.
Edith thought she herself might very well have caught a similar malady.

You’ve seen this ailment before. Rapid pulse, shaking hands, dry mouth, and ready tears.

Oh, she had a right case of it all right.

Love.

He came close, reaching his big square hands to take the tray from her.
“Give me that.
Sit down, little Edith.”
He set the tray aside and took her unresisting arm to lead her to the chair by the fire.
When he’d seated her as if she were made of finest porcelain, he eased himself to kneel at her side and take her hand in his.

“Tell me what is wrong?
Are you ill?”
The concern in his sapphire gaze seemed entirely sincere.
She despaired of her own thudding heart.
Fool!

She must be as a frozen pond in winter.
Nothing of her inner turmoil must show upon her surface.
One might be fool enough to fall in love with a rotter, but one needn’t let on!

Carefully, she withdrew her hand from his large warm one.
Though she craved the feel of his fingers wrapped around hers, she would not show it.

“You’re not a righteous man, are you?”
She folded her hands in her lap.
He could have her sacked for such disrespect, truth or not.
Nonetheless, she refused to keep her peace.
She looked him in the eye.
“I ought to have known you for a deceiver.
You’re always smilin’ at me, callin’ me your little Edith.
Me, of all people!
I thought you were lonely, maybe, stuck up in this room on your own.
I thought you were only playin’ at flirtin’ with me.”

He blinked.
“A deceiver, you say.
What do you mean by that?”

His confusion seemed real, except that a wary shadow had come into his eyes.
His gaze shifted to the side a bit.

The habit of a liar, methinks.

Her heart broke.
She shook her head.
“You’re a cruel, cruel man.
Just another scoundrel, taking advantage of those weaker than yourself.
If you’ve no care for a lady’s honor, you certainly have no thought for a humble girl like me!”
She pushed her shaking hands against the arms of the chair and stood.
She felt slight and weak next to him, but she would not show it.

“I may be poor and plain, but I’m no fool, Black Aaron.”
Oh, I am such a fool!
“You’ll hoodwink me no more!”

“Black Aaron?”
He stood and paced away from her.
For a long moment, he stood with his back to her, gazing out the window.

He was quiet for so long that Edith began to worry.
She’d said unpardonable things to the highest-ranked guest the inn had ever served!
This was a good place, one she was lucky to have.
The innkeeper and his family kept a respectable business, where the maids were safer than most and could even put a little by if they worked hard enough.

No matter how she treasured her employment, she wouldn’t take back a word she’d said.
Still, it might be good to make herself scarce for a bit.

She could move in silence if she chose, after long years of practice in her mother’s sickroom.
Abandoning the tray, she slipped quietly to the exit.
Just as she put her fingers on the latch, a large hand flattened itself on the door before her eyes, pinning it shut.

Heat shimmered across her back as warm breath stirred the tiny curls on the back of her neck.
He was so close she could have leaned back against his wide chest without taking a step.

Helpless against his size and strength, shaking with her own fruitless longing, Edith simply closed her eyes and waited.

“Ye might give a bloke a chance to explain, li’l one.”

His voice was a deep rumble that set her very core to vibrating in response.
Then, the change in his words and tone brought her head up and her eyes open.
She turned in the tiny space he had left her, tilting her head far back to gaze at him searchingly.

A devilish grin flickered across his mouth.
It was a smile she’d not seen before, but she recognized the chancer within him again.
Amazed, she drew in a slow inhalation.
“Liar,” she breathed.
It was an accusation.
It was a revelation.

Warm fingers stroked up her arm.
“Ye found me out, my Edith.
I’m just like you.
Just someone alone and afraid in a big world, just a man who went astray and tries to make amends—an ordinary man.
I ain’t no more Lord Aaron than ye are a princess.”
His touch moved to drift along the coil of her ear.
“Though ye look like a queen t’me.”

“But—but the fine clothes!
And your manservant!”

He chuckled and she knew it at last for his true laugh.
“That weren’t no servant.
That were Himself.”

She pressed her fingers to her lips.
“The innkeeper sent him to sleep in the hay!”

He shrugged.
“Do ’im good, the mad toff.
He’s not so bad, really.”

“But why the lyin’?
And you
were
truly ill.
I know enough to know that!”

“Oh, aye.”
He smiled down at her as if she were the finest of treasures.
“I would be yet, if it weren’t for you, m’lass.
You’ve a gift, sure enough.”

Alarmed, she drew back slightly.
“You mustn’t say, please.
It’ll go easier for me if no one knows.”

He chuckled.
“Now who’s the liar?”

Pricked, she lifted her chin.
“I never lie.
But I come from far away, and am regarded suspicious on that alone.
There are them that think healin’ is witchery.
They might—” She shuddered.

He took her into his arms, pulling her close to his large warm body.
“Now then, ye needn’t worry.
I wouldn’t let anyone harm ye, my sweet Edith.
My tired, worldly heart is smitten, it is.”

For a single moment, she let her forehead rest against his broad chest.
Oh, to have someone to reach out to again—someone who knew her, who treasured her!
I’ve been alone for such a long time.

And you’re alone still. He might not be Black Aaron—but he is more a stranger than ever now!

Cold alarm threatened to squeeze her throat closed.
She put both hands upon his hard chest and pushed, just a little.
He released her at once, which was reassuring in itself.
All the better, he backed up a few steps.
He seemed to understand her withdrawal.

“Miss Edith, my name is Henry Hastings.”
He bowed.
When he straightened, his blue gaze was most serious.
“You are right about one thing.
I am not a righteous man.
I am a liar and a gambler and I won’t say I’ve never been at odds with the law—but I would never press a lady!”

She believed him.
After all, she’d been alone with him in this room for hours on end and he’d never even spoken anything untoward.
She must have been holding her breath, for it eased out of her now in slow relief.
“Thank you, sir.
That does make me feel a sight better.”

Then she bit her lip.
“Oh, but if you aren’t his lordship—”

He spread his hands.
“Then who’s to pay the cost o’ the room?”
He rubbed a hand through his thick hair, disarranging it.

Edith’s fingers twitched in longing to smooth it back for him.

He sighed.
“That’s a pickle, for certain.
I haven’t a farthing left.
Himself will be a rich man someday—I hope—and he’s the sort what pays his debts, but in the meantime I couldn’t travel and he couldn’t pay.”

Edith lifted her chin.
“Meanwhile the hosteler turns away paying custom while you lie up here like a lord and eat up his living.
For shame, Henry!”

He looked ashamed.
“Now, Edith, I wouldn’t’ve done such a thing were it not needed.”

She wrapped her arms about herself.
“And you’ve made me party to it!
Oh, you’ve gone and made a deceiver out of me after all!”

He drew in a breath.
“Now, don’t say that.
I ain’t askin’ ye to lie for me!”
He began to move about the room, a bit unsteadily but with purpose.
She watched him grab up his clothes and his shaving items.
When he bent to drag a battered valise from beneath the bed, he staggered just a little.

In a flash Edith was there, under his arm, supporting him back to the bed.
“You’re mad, you are!
You cannot go from your bed to the road in an hour!”

He turned and took her face gently between his large hands.
His rakish grin turned into something so gentle that it stole her breath clean away.
“My queen, I would fling myself into the river so as not to cause you further pain.”

It wasn’t his “lordship” voice, nor was it the confident tones of the chancer.
This tender avowal gave his voice a resonance from another time altogether.
She saw the glint of silver armor and flying pennants in his gaze.

Honor
, his gaze said to her.
Truth.

Faithfulness.

When his lips touched hers in the lightest kiss, it was a promise that she dared to believe despite anything the world might think of him, her handsome chancer.

Then he pushed her from the room.
“You go and tell the innkeeper everything, my true-heart.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then, with a tender smile, “And you ain’t plain, my girl.
Never say it.”
He shut the door with a decided click.

Edith stood outside the chamber door for a long moment.
From inside the room she could hear movement, the opening and closing of the wardrobe, his halting step as he packed the valise.

She was an honest woman.
She would go to the innkeeper and tell him her suspicions of the man in the finest room.

However, there was no real hurry, was there?

After supper would do.

Chapter Twenty-three

Upon Lord Aaron’s horse, they rode far into the night.
Elektra lost track of distance, lost track of time.
At first she’d tried to lean away from his big body, but eventually the difficulty balancing sidesaddle in a saddle not made for such riding took its toll and she leaned back against him.

His encircling arm tightened about her waist.
She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear.
Had he just dropped a kiss upon her hair?

She leaned farther into the shelter of his hold and turned her cheek to rest against his chest.
He was large and strong and she knew in the depths of her feminine heart that she was in no danger from him—had, in fact, never been safer in her life than she was in his embrace.

Lord Aaron—Black Aaron—held her as if she were the most precious item in the world, and he, the only one who could protect her.

The hoofbeats of the big bay gelding thundered down the dark road.
When enough distance had been covered that Aaron believed them safe from pursuit, he slowed Lard-Arse to a trot.

On the long-legged horse, that gait was a punishing one.
After another mile, Aaron was forced to slow to a walk.
It likely didn’t matter, for he had no destination in mind.
In fact, now that he had Elektra alone, he had no idea what to do with her.

That was a lie.
He had many ideas.
None of them were good ones.

Now that the breath wasn’t being jounced out of her, Elektra sat stiffly in the saddle, carefully not leaning into him.
It was clear that she expected an explanation for his lies.

Unfortunately, he could not offer that to her.

Finally, she reached out to wrap her fingers around the reins.
She pulled Lard-Arse to a halt before Aaron could stop her.
Then she turned to sit sideways in the saddle so that she could face him directly.

“Well?”

He wasn’t ready.
He hadn’t thought it through.
He had no idea what to say to her.

“Fine then.
I shall start.”
She drew in a breath, and Aaron clearly heard the shaky sound of it.
Even inches away from him, he could feel that she was trembling.
Though she might toss her head, and behave with the utmost confidence, he knew something that the rest of the world did not know.