“I pay you a compliment, so I must be ill?” Doon frowned. “If you're going to tease me, that'll be the last time I say something nice.”
“I'm not teasing you, though! I was very serious!” Kitt exclaimed. She finished wrapping his wound and tied the ends of the cloth together. “It's so unlike you to say something like... like that.”
Doon turned away from her with a sigh. “Well then, I won't say it again.”
“No, please!” Kitt grabbed his arm and squeezed. “Don't act like that! I liked it! It was very... sweet.”
As he threw his shirt over his head, Doon grumbled inaudibly. When his coat was on, he grabbed Kitt's wrist and started dragging her forward again. She tried to slide her arm backward, hoping he'd hold her hand instead, but he kept reaching for her wrist, so she eventually gave up.
“Poor Roderick,” Kitt suddenly said, thinking out loud. “What if he and Miles think something bad happened to me? I'd feel awful if they were worrying about me.” To her surprise, Doon didn't respond. He usually had a witty comeback, especially where Roderick was concerned, so when he didn't say anything, Kitt assumed he was angry with her. She hoped he would get over his sulking sooner than later.
After nearly an hour of walking, she tried to speak to him again. “Doon?”
“Hm?”
“I'm... I'm really glad you're alright. For days and days, I was really worried about you. Actually, it was only a few days, but it felt like you were imprisoned for an eternity. I hate to see you hurt, and I hated to watch those fights. I was so scared for you.” It was the understatement of understatements. When Kitt was watching the tournament, her stomach was twisted in knots the entire time.
“I wasn't scared,” Doon curtly answered. “I told you I'd fight hard, and I did. I never really doubted I'd win.”
“Oh, really?” Doon's back was facing her as they walked, so he didn't see her rolling her eyes. “Even when you were on the ground getting hit in the head, and Roderick had to jump in to save you... you didn't doubt that you'd win?”
“Nah.” Doon shrugged. “Not really.”
“God, I've never met a man who was more overflowing with confidence than you,” Kitt said, and after a moment's pause, she added, “And that wasn't a compliment.”
“There's nothing wrong with confidence, Kitten.”
“Why do you call me that?” Kitt's nose wrinkled as she asked the question. “Kitten.”
“I don't know. I like it. Do you not like it?” Doon was still giving shorter answers than usual. If he was still upset, Kitt thought it was surprisingly childish of him.
“No, I don't mind it... I was just curious.” Kitt suddenly stopped walking, which also halted Doon. When he turned around, he caught her dislodging a pebble from her shoe. “My feet hurt,” she told him. “I believe there's a blister forming on my heel.”
“You can go barefoot, if you want,” Doon suggested. “If you recall, I'm quite familiar with the sight of your naked toes. It wouldn't bother me to see them again... even if your toenails are freakishly small.”
“My toenails are freakishly small?” Kitt shrieked the words as she stepped out of her shoes. “Are you serious? There's nothing wrong with my toenails!”
“Don't panic. It's not so bad to have tiny toenails. Now, hand me your little shoes. I'll carry them for you.”
Kitt's nose was wrinkling yet again. “What? Why?”
“Why not?” Doon snatched the slippers from Kitt's hand and insisted on toting them for her. “We're over halfway there, but if you really can't handle it, I can carry you again. I really don't mind.”
“I'm amazed at your stamina, Doon. Honestly, it's like you're not even human. You just keep going and going and going, never getting fatigued. I don't think I've ever met someone who never got tired.”
“I'm just determined,” Doon said. “Determined to get away from Dovyr, determined to get back to my men...”
Kitt nodded, then they fell into silence for the rest of their walk. By the time they reached their destination, the sun was setting around them, making the scene painstakingly beautiful. Doon's lake was serene, still, and alight with color. Kitt could hear crickets chirping in the trees: yet another reminder that night was falling. The trees' leaves were shuffled by a cool breeze, which made an occasional ripple on the water's calm surface.
“It's so beautiful here,” Kitt said. “It's so peaceful.”
“And you should probably make an effort to sound a bit less excited. You are my captive, after all.” As Doon glanced around the area, he was sighing with disappointment. “My men aren't here.”
“Do you think they'll come looking for you tomorrow?”
“Possibly. Hopefully...” Doon scratched his head. If they didn't come, he had no backup plan—but he couldn't say that to Kitt. He never wanted her to see him as anything less than calm and self-assured. “I don't want you to escape in the middle of the night, so... I'm trying to decide what to do with you.”
“Oh?” Kitt's eyebrow shot up as she spun in his direction. “And what are you going to do? Are you going to tie me up?”
“No.” Doon sat by a nearby tree and wiggled his finger, encouraging her to come toward him. When she was close enough to reach, Doon grabbed her arm and pulled her onto his lap. Kitt's entire body froze when she felt his arms wrapping around her. “I'm going to hold onto you.”
Kitt couldn't move, speak, blink or even think for the longest time. The feeling of Doon's arms cradling her body had muddled her brain. When she looked at him, her mouth was gaping. “You want me to stay on your lap... all night?” As she awaited Doon's answer, Kitt's heart hammered away at her chest. In fact, it was hammering so hard, she wondered if it would punch a hole through her torso.
Doon's answer was a simple, “Yes.”
Kitt couldn't believe it. Doon, a man who avoided affection by any means necessary, was holding her. When she finally allowed her body to relax, she settled against his chest with a sigh.
“This is probably the safest place in the entire world, you know,” Kitt mused. “Right here. On your lap.”
“And I don't deny it,” Doon answered with a grin.
“Seriously, you're like a living weapon. A hundred thieves could suddenly appear, and you'd probably take them all on. With ease.”
“I would,” Doon agreed. “And you're only going to stroke my already-overabundant ego if you say things like that.”
Kitt snorted with laughter. “You're right. I shouldn't fill your head with that kind of thing. You're already way too cocky for your own good.”
“Mm hmm,” he agreed again, then he tightened his grip on her. Kitt fit on his lap so perfectly, it was almost frightening. Doon was trying very hard not to enjoy it.
“Do you...” Kitt started to speak, but she was hesitant. She could never predict how he would react, and she didn't want to end up disappointed.
When she didn't continue, Doon was forced to ask, “Do I what, Kitten?”
“Do you think... I mean... would you mind if I laid my head on your shoulder?” When the question was out of her mouth, Kitt winced. Her heart temporarily ceased to beat as she waited for his answer.
“Go ahead,” Doon whispered. “I don't mind.”
As soon as her cheek touched his shoulder, Kitt swore she could feel her entire body relax. For the first time in ages, her tension melted away. She wasn't in the castle, where assassins were trying to kill her. Doon was free and safe. For the first time in a long time, Kitt felt totally and utterly content.
So it wasn't a surprise when she actually fell asleep on him.
26
“Kitten.”
Kitt awoke to the feeling of Doon rapidly tapping on her nose. When she opened one eye, she realized it was still dark outside.
“It's time to get up,” he told her. “The ship's here.”
“Mmmfff.” Kitt yawned and stretched, all while sitting on Doon's lap. “I'm still tired, though.”
“Then you can catch s
ome sleep on the ship. Laying in your bed has to be more comfortable than laying on Doon.”
Kitt started to shake her head, but stopped. She didn't want him to know how she felt. In truth, she couldn't imagine anything better than being cradled in his arms.
“Come on,” Doon kept trying to nudge her off of him. “Get up, or I'll pick you up.”
With a grunt and a grumble, Kitt finally dragged herself from Doon's lap. “Alright, alright. I'm up, I'm up.” When she was standing, Kitt rubbed her eyes and studied the incoming airship. “So your men came back for you after all?”
“Always. Of course. They'd never leave me behind.”
The airship came within inches from the ground, at which time the pirates dropped down a plank for them. Doon laid a hand on Kitt's back and gently guided her onto the ship. Kitt didn't mind being back on the airship. She had actually gotten quite comfortable there, though she doubted it would be the same without Miles. Almost as soon as they were on board, Doon started to walk away, so she quickly caught his arm and pulled him back to her.
“Wait... where are you going? What are you going to do now?”
“Well, for one, I'm going to make sure we get as far away from Dovyr as we can,” Doon told her. “Then I'm going to take a bath, clean my wounds, and maybe get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow.”
As soon as Kitt let go of him, Doon was gone. It was as if he couldn't wait to get away from her. “Doon...” she whispered to herself. “You're so confusing.” She thought about chasing after him and insisting on helping him clean his wounds, but he clearly had an agenda, and that agenda didn't involve her in any way.
When Doon was gone, Kitt went to her room on the airship and fell face-forward into the bed. She barely had time to drape a blanket over herself before she fell back to sleep. She had an odd dream about Roderick working at Lucky's with Tobias, and they were surprisingly chummy with each other.
Kitt woke up a few hours later, and not long after her eyes were open, there was a knock on the door. Her visitor was Bryce, one of Doon's right-hand men. When she opened the door and saw him standing in front of her, her body momentarily tensed up. After all, they had a strange history. But when she realized the giant of a man had a smile on his face—or something resembling a smile—she relaxed a bit.
“I brought you some stew,” Bryce said, holding up a large bowl of vegetables, broth and beef. Kitt assumed it was a large bowl, but it looked like a small bowl when it was sandwiched between Bryce's hairy, hulking arms. “I ain't dat good of a cook, truths be told, but it's about as good as you can get fer now. I can get you some bread if yew'd like.”
“Bread would be good, but only if it doesn't trouble you too much,” Kitt responded with a smile.
“I can gets you a cookie if you want, too. Cap'n said I could make us some. We don' get to make cookies all that often.”
“Um... well... like I said, only if it doesn't trouble you too much.” Kitt wasn't about to say no to a cookie, but at the same time, she didn't want to sound greedy.
As soon as Bryce excused himself, Kitt sat on her bed and ate her stew. Ten minutes later, Bryce returned with her bread, and he looked pretty pleased with himself for delivering it. A half-hour after that, he returned yet again with a plate of three cookies, for which Kitt thanked him profusely. As she ate her snacks, Kitt kept hoping Doon would visit. She kept hoping every knock on the door would be him, but it never was.
After several hours without the captain, Kitt decided to search for him. When she didn't find him in his room, she continued her search on the deck. The pirates actually tipped their hats as she passed—except for the pirate wearing a filthy bandana. When he saw his friends tipping hats, he actually removed the bandana entirely, revealing a head full of matted, greased hair. Kitt didn't think it was necessary, but she was glad they were showing her some respect. As long as they were being kind and polite, it was easy to relax on the airship.
As she searched for Doon, Kitt stopped to enjoy the scenery. The hum of the engine, the faint smell of iron, the cotton clouds all around her: it never got old. Even if she was on the airship for years, Kitt doubted she could ever get enough of it.
“Good morning, Kitten.”
Kitt's body jolted when she heard Doon's voice. When she turned around and saw him lighting a cigarette, her nose was marred by a sneer. Before he could bring it to his lips, she snatched the cigarette from his fingers and pitched it over the side of the ship. Only then did she respond, “Good morning.”
“Hey! What's the meaning of that?” Doon pouted over the side of the ship, as if he expected the cigarette to come floating back to him.
“You don't need it,” Kitt said with a shrug. “You'd be better off if you quit.”
“For many days, I was tortured, beaten, forced to fight to the death... and you won't let me have one cigarette? That seems rather cruel of you.” Doon shook his head and grumbled. “Very cruel of you, in fact. Are you getting revenge for the time I tossed your clothes overboard?”
“That's not the same thing! That's not even close to being the same thing!” Kitt emphatically protested. “Getting rid of my favorite clothes was way worse than getting rid of one cigarette.” She decided to change the subject before she started feeling frustrated with him. “How are your wounds?”
“Fine.”
“Did you clean them properly? Bandage them?”
“Yes and yes. Good god, you're like a mum. Maybe even worse than a mum.”
“Someone has to be concerned about you, because you don't seem to have much concern for yourself!” Kitt said, and Doon confirmed the sentiment with a nod. “So... you're alright, then? How is your back?”
“Fine. I mean, it hurts like bloody hell, but I should have some fantastic scars at the end of it all.” As Doon stared into the vast ocean of clouds, a single thought lingered in his head. It was a silly thing to fixate on, but he couldn't get the question out of his mind, so he had to ask, “Were those really your favorite clothes? The ones I disposed of?”
“Well... yes.” Kitt nodded. “They were some of the most comfortable clothes I owned! And I still hate dresses, to be honest. I've gotten used to wearing them, but I miss my breeches. I miss them all the time.”
“Hmm...” Doon stroked his chin in silent contemplation. He had a solution to her problem, but he didn't know how she would feel about it. He didn't even know how he felt about it. Nevertheless, he suggested it. “I could give you some of my clothes, I suppose.”
Kitt's eyebrows jumped to the middle of her forehead. “Your clothes?”
“Sure. I mean, they'd be a bit large on you, but you could always roll up the sleeves... or whatever you'd have to do to make them fit.”
“Doon...” When Kitt said his name, she sounded very serious. She wanted to be sure he wasn't teasing her. When it came to Francis Doon, sometimes it was impossible to tell when he was being serious. “You really want to give me some of your clothes?”
“Sure. Why not? I don't know why you're making a huge deal of it.” When he started off in the direction of his room, Doon motioned for Kitt to follow. “The way you're carrying on, you'd think I was giving you gold and jewels.”
“If it means I can stop wearing dresses all the time, I'd like it better than gold,” Kitt said as they entered his bedchamber.
Doon marched to the wardrobe and threw open its doors. “Take your pick, Kitten. Whatever you want, it's yours.”
“Alright...” Kitt approached the wardrobe with caution, as if she expected a monster to lurk in its depths. When she peered inside, she took a moment to peruse its contents. After a minute or so, she pulled out a light brown shirt and navy breeches.
“If you'd like, you can get changed in the adjoining room,” Doon suggested as he sat on the end of his bed. When she left to change clothes, he thought about lighting another cigarette, but he didn't want to vex her, so he decided to wait until she was gone.
As soon as Kitt reemerged, Doon couldn't stop his smil
e from consuming every inch his face. She looked adorable in his clothes. The cuffs on the breeches were rolled up, and the sleeves were way too long, but she looked cute, and more importantly, very comfortable.
“They look much better on you than me,” he praised her. “Do you like them? They are clean, I promise.”
Kitt spun around, briefly modeling the back of the clothes. When she turned to face him, she said, “The shirt is like wearing an oversized sack, but for the most part, I like them.”
“Ah, but you're missing something!” Doon rose from the bed and returned to the wardrobe, from which he pulled out his gray patchwork coat. Kitt had seen him wear it several times, to the point where she assumed it was his favorite. So when he draped it over her shoulders, she was a bit surprised. “Don't just stand there,” he said. “Put your arms through the sleeves. I can't do everything for you, you know.”
Kitt put on the coat and turned toward the looking glass. “I look ridiculous!” she said with a snort. “Why does something that looks so good on you... look so very, very ridiculous on me?”
“You don't look ridiculous. You look very stylish,” he said with a wink, then he popped a matching gray top hat onto Kitt's head. “There. Now you're officially a little mini-Doon.”
“Mini-Doon,” Kitt repeated her new nickname as she giggled at her reflection. “Wait, I think there's something missing from this ensemble! Quick, give me a cigarette!”
As he passed her a cigarette, Doon laughed loudly. His laughter wasn't something she heard very often. Sometimes he chuckled sarcastically, or snickered mockingly, but rarely did he genuinely laugh.
Kitt exaggerated a swagger as she walked around the room. She coolly flicked the brim of her hat, brought the cigarette to her mouth, and pretended to smoke it. “I'm Doon. Francis Doon. But don't you ever call me Francis.”
A Lost Princess (Belles & Bullets Book 2) Page 18
