the way the cords of his neck stood out when he turned his head, and the way his hair lay like a wave of silk over his cheek. The blanket had slipped down below the first hard bands of muscle that formed his chest. The hair there was smooth and black as well, covering the skin like a dark breastplate. It was much finer on his arms, allowing a clear view of the veins that flowed down to his hands, to the fingers that were wrapped with easy possession around hers.
As far as making casual conversation, what could she say? You, sir, are a fugitive charged with treason. There are soldiers patrolling the roads, searching inns and taverns on the waterfront, watching the vicar’s house, the church, even questioning Poor Arthur’s nurses to see if he had had a visit from his notorious brother.
“My family lives in London during the season,” she said, clearing her throat softly, “and spend their summers in Exeter. I have a sister, Beatrice, and a brother Anthony, both older. Bea is married, Anthony is not. I am...I am engaged,” she added awkwardly, wondering why she had felt the need to throw up such a petty defence. Especially when the addition caused him to turn and stare at her through a frown.
“Do you happen to know...if I am married?”
“No,” she whispered. “I am afraid I do not. According to my aunt, you have been out of the country for several years and no one really knows what you have been doing.”
She saw the next question forming in his eyes, but before he could ask it, the sound of loud, scraping footsteps on the stairs put her hastily on her feet and prompted her to take several precautionary steps away from the side of the bed.
“That will be Broom,” she explained. “He has been watching over you while you slept.”
“Watching over me?”
“Yes. In...in case you woke up. Now I really must go and find my aunt. She will want to send for the vicar at once, and between them, perhaps they will be better able to answer some of your questions.”
“Will you come back later?”
“Later?”
“Later,” he said with quiet intensity, “when you can tell me what it is you are too frightened to tell me now.”
Again there was no time to answer--if indeed she could have thought of something to say--for Broom was at the door, snatching the crumpled felt hat off his head and bowing as much to clear the lintel of the doorway as to extend the formal courtesy to Annaleah.
“Mr. Althorpe is awake,” she explained needlessly. “I was just going to find my aunt.”
“Aye, Miss. She be in day parlor, Miss, wi’ visitors.”
“Visitors?”
“Aye. An ‘ole flock o’ them. Two fancy toffs come first in a big black rig wi’ four ‘orses!” To a man who measured wealth in livestock, it was an impressive testimony of importance. “They was ‘ardly ‘ere long enough for ‘er Ladyship to settle ‘em in the parlor afore anither coach pulled up wi’ Colonel Ramsey an’ a brace o’ redcoats.”
CHAPTER 5
Annaleah did not even want to entertain the notion that Reverend Stanley Althorpe had faltered in his resolve and alerted the authorities to his brother’s whereabouts. As she descended from the attic to the third floor, then hurried along the corridor to the main staircase, she could not think of any other plausible reason why soldiers would be in the house. Her own brother, Anthony, irritated her almost beyond endurance at times, yet she could not fathom a crime so heinous as to make her willingly betray him. Beatrice often made her clamp her hands to her sides to keep from reaching up and tearing out locks of her hair, but there too, at the slightest hint of trouble, Anna would defend her unto the death.
By the time she arrived outside the day parlor, her cheeks were warm with indignation, her temples steamy and her jaw set for battle.
The two scarlet-clad soldiers stood with Willerkins just inside the doorway, rigid in their official capacity, and were the first
As far as making casual conversation, what could she say? You, sir, are a fugitive charged with treason. There are soldiers patrolling the roads, searching inns and taverns on the waterfront, watching the vicar’s house, the church, even questioning Poor Arthur’s nurses to see if he had had a visit from his notorious brother.
“My family lives in London during the season,” she said, clearing her throat softly, “and spend their summers in Exeter. I have a sister, Beatrice, and a brother Anthony, both older. Bea is married, Anthony is not. I am...I am engaged,” she added awkwardly, wondering why she had felt the need to throw up such a petty defence. Especially when the addition caused him to turn and stare at her through a frown.
“Do you happen to know...if I am married?”
“No,” she whispered. “I am afraid I do not. According to my aunt, you have been out of the country for several years and no one really knows what you have been doing.”
She saw the next question forming in his eyes, but before he could ask it, the sound of loud, scraping footsteps on the stairs put her hastily on her feet and prompted her to take several precautionary steps away from the side of the bed.
“That will be Broom,” she explained. “He has been watching over you while you slept.”
“Watching over me?”
“Yes. In...in case you woke up. Now I really must go and find my aunt. She will want to send for the vicar at once, and between them, perhaps they will be better able to answer some of your questions.”
“Will you come back later?”
“Later?”
“Later,” he said with quiet intensity, “when you can tell me what it is you are too frightened to tell me now.”
Again there was no time to answer--if indeed she could have thought of something to say--for Broom was at the door, snatching the crumpled felt hat off his head and bowing as much to clear the lintel of the doorway as to extend the formal courtesy to Annaleah.
“Mr. Althorpe is awake,” she explained needlessly. “I was just going to find my aunt.”
“Aye, Miss. She be in day parlor, Miss, wi’ visitors.”
“Visitors?”
“Aye. An ‘ole flock o’ them. Two fancy toffs come first in a big black rig wi’ four ‘orses!” To a man who measured wealth in livestock, it was an impressive testimony of importance. “They was ‘ardly ‘ere long enough for ‘er Ladyship to settle ‘em in the parlor afore anither coach pulled up wi’ Colonel Ramsey an’ a brace o’ redcoats.”
CHAPTER 5
Annaleah did not even want to entertain the notion that Reverend Stanley Althorpe had faltered in his resolve and alerted the authorities to his brother’s whereabouts. As she descended from the attic to the third floor, then hurried along the corridor to the main staircase, she could not think of any other plausible reason why soldiers would be in the house. Her own brother, Anthony, irritated her almost beyond endurance at times, yet she could not fathom a crime so heinous as to make her willingly betray him. Beatrice often made her clamp her hands to her sides to keep from reaching up and tearing out locks of her hair, but there too, at the slightest hint of trouble, Anna would defend her unto the death.
By the time she arrived outside the day parlor, her cheeks were warm with indignation, her temples steamy and her jaw set for battle.
The two scarlet-clad soldiers stood with Willerkins just inside the doorway, rigid in their official capacity, and were the first
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