by Sarah Hegger
“But you will not reach there tonight.” The priest nodded his head in dismissal. “The gates to the city will close at sunset.” He stuck his head toward them. “And do not think to sleep here this night. I will remember your faces.” He turned and started to flap across the square again.
He was a crow, Beatrice decided, and a bald one, at that. Some other crow must have plucked his feathers.
“Beatrice.” Garrett rested his forearms on Parsley’s back. “We will not reach Westminster tonight.”
“Surely the gates will not close precisely at sunset.” The sky above her was barely streaked with sunset. There must be an hour or two before the sun went down. “We can reach them and be on our way to Westminster.”
“Nay.” Garrett shook his head. “I would not want to chance it with all these soldiers in the city. The gates to Westminster will, for certain, be closed before we reach there. I would guess your father is at the palace.”
Disappointment pressed down on her chest. She’d been sure she would reach her father before this day was over.
“Do you have any coin?”
“Tom hid some from me.” Beatrice reached for her purse. “He insisted I bring it with us.”
Garrett grinned. “Tom knows you well.” He took the purse from her. “We will need to see the horses safely kept before we go to Westminster in the morning. The quickest way to reach there is by the river and we cannot take them with us.”
Beatrice reached up to stroke Breeze’s neck. She wasn’t happy with the thought of leaving her mare with strangers. Still, it wouldn’t be for long. Tomorrow she’d reach her father and soon after, they’d be riding for home.
Garrett peered inside the purse. “Well.” He tightened the strings again. “We will not sleep rich tonight, but we should have enough to see us sheltered.”
* * * *
Beatrice’s head ached. Garrett’s words turned out to be optimistic. The city was full to the brim with soldiers taking up all the room. They struggled through the crowds as inn after inn turned them away. Full dark had fallen by the time they’d been turned away from yet another establishment. The gates to the city were closed and with them any chance of sleeping without the city walls.
Beatrice tried to stay cheerful, but the last woman had turned them away rudely.
Around them, the city settled for the night. Shadows crept along the narrow streets, only dimly lit by flickering torches. With the night, a new population peopled the city. They slid out of the shadows to weave drunkenly in her path. Beatrice swore their eyes were on her. She almost ran into Garrett’s back she walked so closely behind him.
He turned to look at her. “I have an idea.” He winked.
Beatrice sincerely hoped so. She was footsore and dispirited as she trailed him.
“Oi, my fine laddie.” A raucous voice cut the air.
Beatrice whirled around to look.
A woman whistled through her teeth, her eyes on Garrett. “Look what I have for you.” The woman tugged down her dress and jiggled her breasts.
Sweet Lord. Beatrice tripped over her own feet.
Garrett caught her. “Are you all right?”
“Aye.” Beatrice craned her neck to stare at the woman. The woman had her breasts on display again, but she was looking at a different man. This one paid no more attention to her than Garrett.
“Not long now.” Garrett wrapped her hand in his.
Beatrice drew reassurance from his warm fingers entwined with hers.
The river glittered ahead of them. Garrett wound their way through the tangle of streets toward the waterfront. The expanse of water, silver in the moonlight, looked much better when she couldn’t see the unmentionable things drifting along in the current. A stiff breeze tugged at her skirts and brought with it a welcome breath of fresh air.
She followed Garrett, trusting he knew where he was going. The river was right before them and yet the streets forced them to wind and turn before they reached it. Taverns clustered together as they drew closer. The oily tang of fatty meat and tapers hung in the air. Bursts of laughter and shouts came from behind the lighted windows. The reedy whistle of a pipe wound through the loud buzz of conversation as they walked past, yet another, tavern. Peering through the window, Beatrice didn’t think it looked too bad. Rough men filled the tables, but there were women amongst them. Her belly was hollow with hunger and she spied coarse loaves of bread on the table beside wooden bowls.
Garrett tugged her forward.
Even Breeze’s head hung when Garrett, finally, stopped before a large wooden shed.
Garrett tried the door. It was locked.
Her shoulders drooped. This was his grand idea? Breeze blew softly in her ear. Beatrice understood how the mare felt. She wrapped her arm beneath Breeze’s jaw and leaned.
Garrett scrutinized the flickering dark.
“What are you doing?”
He went first one way, stopped and listened, and then turned. “Looking for a night guard.” He peered around the side of the shed. “Or a water bailiff.”
“What is a water bailiff?”
“Not someone we want to meet now.” He grinned at her. “But the fact there is not one here, is good news for us.”
He handed her Parsley’s reins.
“What is this place?”
“This is the wool district.” He approached the door again. A stout chain and lock were wrapped around the latch. “These warehouses are kept full of wool waiting to be loaded onto barges.”
“Garrett?”
He fiddled with the chain on the door. Light flashed off his dagger as he levered it inside the padlock.
“What are you doing?” Nerves fluttered in her belly.
“Finding my lady a bed for the night.” With a flourish, he loosened the chain and stepped back. He caught it before it hit the ground. “We shall have to keep quiet, but I can think of no better place to rest than a nice, warm bed of wool.”
“Is the chain not to keep people out?” Beatrice tried to look shocked. But the idea of a bed and an end to this endless walking was too tempting.
“Only if such people were going to steal the wool.” Garrett eased the door open with a slight creak. “As it is, we are only going to sleep on it.”
“I suppose that is acceptable.” Beatrice led Breeze inside. The shed was tall and stretched right over the water. A barge could be loaded from inside through a portal on the river. And, as promised, there was wool everywhere.
Garrett shut the heavy door to seal them in.
The inside of the shed smelled musty and dank. Beatrice wrinkled her nose and waited for her eyes to grow accustomed to the lack of light.
“We can stay here for the night. I will have to get some water and we can get settled,” Garrett said.
Beatrice looked toward the river. She shuddered in distaste. The water would kill her faster than the thirst.
“Not from there.” He laughed.
She heard Garrett open the door again. “Where are you going?”
“To get some water.”
“And leave me here alone?” Beatrice glanced around the hut and shivered.
Garrett crossed the floor toward her. “Only for a few moments, sweeting.” He gave her a quick hug. “I shall be back before you know it. Otherwise, let Parsley protect you. He is a real beast.”
Beatrice giggled. It sounded too loud and she slapped her hands across her mouth. Noises filtered through the walls from the city outside. She stood where Garrett had left her and gathered up her courage. She was letting her fears get the better of her. “I will settle the horses,” she said to the empty hut. Breeze stamped and blew through her nose as if to tell her to get on with it.
“You will have to eat light tonight.” She slipped the nearly empty nosebag over the mare’s head. “But tomorrow we will find father and you will have enough grain to fill your bellies five times over.” She did the same for Parsley. The horses’
eyes glowed in the dim light. Their smell floated above that of the wool and Beatrice breathed it in. It was the smell of the stables at Anglesea, and she drew comfort from it.
True to his promise, Garrett returned a few moments later. He carried some water for the horses and another skin for them.
She and Garrett didn’t speak much as they dealt with the business of getting ready for the night. The bread had grown a bit stale, but Beatrice ate her half. Some cheese and apples and her belly was appeased.
“We dare not risk a fire.” Garrett took a seat beside her.
It seemed an age since she’d enjoyed the comfort of a cheerful blaze. At Anglesea, even though it was summer, the great hearths would be lit and folk would gather about them. Conversation would fill the hall lit by the sweet scented beeswax candles her mother insisted on. In their hut, the night closed in, the silence broken only by the slap of water against the dock. One of the horses whickered and the other answered.
Garrett sat beside her, still as a stag scenting for danger.
“It grows late. We should sleep.” Garrett spoke suddenly, startling her. His voice sounded odd. “We should be up before sunrise and get to the gates.”
Beatrice nodded, realized he couldn’t see her and said, “Aye.”
He shifted beside her and cleared his throat. “I will get the blankets.”
He stood up and Beatrice heard him moving in the dark. There were endless sounds of shuffling around before he returned.
“The wool stinks, but at least it’s soft.” He spread their blankets on the wool.
“I am becoming accustomed.” Beatrice stood to give him room to work. “The river smells worse.”
“Aye.”
“I can do that.” She stood feeling awkward, like she should do something to help him.
“I have it done.” He settled onto his blanket and they sat.
It was warm in the hut. The air absolutely still. From the city beyond the watch called the hour.
“It is because of what people throw in it,” Garrett said.
“What?”
“The river. It stinks because of what people throw in it.”
“Ah.” It made sense. Beatrice raised her knees and wrapped her arms about them. If she stared hard enough, she could discern dim shapes on the other side of the warehouse. A horse slurped water noisily. “How did you know about these places?” She shifted her weight and froze. Every move she made clattered in the silence.
“I lived in London for a time.” Rustling as Garrett changed position beside her.
“Ah.” Beatrice tightened her arms and kept her eyes locked on the other side of the hut. She’d never been this ill at ease with Garrett before. Mayhap because she’d never been entirely alone with him. The thought caused her belly to tighten. Even at their secret meetings, there had always been people within hailing distance. There was nobody about now.
“God’s wounds, this is foolishness.” He chuckled and the corners of Beatrice’s mouth tilted in response. “Beatrice, you cannot sit there all night hanging on to your knees.”
“I know.” She was glad the dark hid her blush. “I just feel…” She didn’t have the words for how she felt. Except, she wanted to explode from her own skin.
“I know,” he murmured. “Would it help if I told you that you had nothing to fear from me this night?”
The knot in her belly drew tighter. It did help. And then, it didn’t. She’d been poised for Garrett to take advantage of their situation. The knowledge he wouldn’t was disappointing. Since she’d met him, Garrett had taken every small gap to press forbidden kisses and touches on her. Now, when presented with the perfect opportunity, he announced his intention to desist. It sat ill with her and made no sense. The dark gave her the sort of courage she wouldn’t have had otherwise. “Why not?”
He choked and stilled beside her. “We may as well air this.” His voice sounded resigned as he sat up. “Beatrice.”
Beatrice shivered and hugged her knees tighter. She sensed she wasn’t going to like what he said next.
“I will take you to your father in the morning.” He drew a loud breath. “Once you are safe, we will part ways.”
“What?” Her middle gave a sharp twist. She could see the glimmer of his eyes as he looked at her. “Why?”
“You know why.” His fingers brushed against her cheek.
She did know why but she didn’t want to admit the thought. Beatrice leaned her cheek into the light contact.
“You will tell your father Tom led you to London.”
“Why?”
He groaned. “Your father will not like that we were alone like this. Your reputation will be damaged, and I am not the man he would have chosen for you. I will never be that man.”
Beatrice wanted to deny his words, but she couldn’t. “Nothing has happened,” she said, instead.
His laughter was tinged with sadness. “Much has happened, Beatrice.” His warm palm cupped her cheek. “Too much for words, but I am not the man who set out on this journey with you. The only thing I can give you, is to return you to your father the same way you set out.”
“You are speaking of my virtue.” Beatrice didn’t know how she could speak so boldly. Her face heated.
“Aye.” His hand left her face.
She missed the contact immediately. Inside she felt bleak, desolate.
His shoulder pressed against hers. The water lapped against the pilings beneath the shed.
Part of her had known, all along, this couldn’t last. Their worlds were leagues apart, but he’d been thrilling and exciting and her soul had craved adventure. Now, she’d had her fill of adventure and the craving had changed. She pictured her life without him. Her mind veered sharply away from the image. It invented a slew of fancies in which she and Garrett could continue to see each other. Wild, implausible imaginings where he would live in the village and she would come to him. It felt wrong. It felt sordid and underhanded. Discovery was only a matter of time. And Garrett would pay the dearest price. She had no words and she leaned her cheek against his shoulder.
He found her fingers and intertwined them with his.
“I cannot bear to think on it,” she whispered.
“Aye.” He took a deep breath. “I am not a good man, Beatrice.” He pressed her fingers to silence her when she would speak. “You know almost nothing of me.”
“Tell me.” Suddenly, she ached to know it all. All the questions she’d had when they first met and the hundreds of others that had gathered along this journey. Why was the pouch now missing from about his neck? Why did he look angry one minute and the seducer the next? She wanted to understand all the parts of him and carry them in her heart.
“Nay, Beatrice. I would have you remember me as we are now. As we have been on this journey. It is how I shall remember you.”
Dear Lord, it sounded so final.
“Please. I do not want to speak of it. “ Beatrice screwed her eyes shut. A giant hand closed over her throat. His words were like barbs. The morning would come and she would reach her father. It was soon enough. For now, she had this and it would have to last her for the remainder of the days coming.
“Be happy, Beatrice.” He raised her fingers. His mouth was hot across her knuckles. “Find a good man and have his babies. But for me, make sure it is a man who cherishes you as he should.”
“Nay.” She couldn’t contemplate a man who could make her feel this way. If she pictured such a man, the face he wore was Garrett’s. She pressed her face against the place where his neck and shoulder joined. Slowly, reverently, she drew in the unique musk of Garrett. Leather, fire, and man.
“I love you.” So much that it hurt to even say the words.
Garrett circled her shoulder with his arm. “I wish you had not said that.” He rested his cheek on her head. “Because, God help us both, but I love you, too.”
He loved her. Joy shoved the hurt aside, and then it return
ed in a terrible rush. Tears sprang in her eyes. When he was gone, she would have the knowledge of his love to hug tight to her breast. Would it be enough? Would anything ever be enough again? Never. “I will not marry.” Beatrice closed her eyes against the swell of heartache. “Not now.”
“Do not say so.” He turned her to face him. “It makes it harder to leave, knowing you are pining for something that cannot be.”
The dark pulsed around them. The dull ache in Beatrice’s chest grew with each beat of her heart. This night, this was the only one they had. “But we have now.” She slipped her hands around his neck.
The muscles of his shoulders tensed beneath her fingers.
“We are here and we have this one moment,” she whispered.
“Do not.” His voice was hoarse.
“I must.” His words were like a sharp dagger to her bruised heart. “Do you not want me?”
“Beatrice.” His muscles trembled beneath her touch. “I want nothing more than to love you. I ache for you, but—”
“Nay.” It was all she needed to know. Beatrice put her fingers over his lips. “The morning will come soon enough. Can we not pretend for one night?”
His eyes glittered down at her. A muscle jumped as he clenched his teeth.
“Please, Garrett.”
With a groan he reached for her, cupping her face in his hands. He stared at her for one endless moment before his mouth covered hers.
Chapter 20
Her final, ragged plea undid him. He could deny her nothing. Garrett found her mouth and plundered. This wasn’t the artful kiss of the seducer, but raw and primal, as he sought to slake his need for her. She rampaged through his senses in a flood of heat, the taste and feel of her, the smell that clung to her skin.
She opened her lips to his demand and Garrett was lost. He had to have her, even if it was only for one stolen piece of time. She made soft, needy sounds in the back of her throat. His head spun. She needed him as badly as he needed her and the knowledge drove him to the edge of insanity.
* * * *
Beatrice clung to him like she might hold him to her forever.
