“You would?”
“I’d give ye my lute and everything else I ever loved, if I thought for one second it would make ye happy.”She’d laughed then, pleased at the thought of receiving some shiny lute, little understanding that he’d only meant to say he loved her.
Everything he’d ever done said he loved her.
Until the end.
Until he’d forsaken her and left her alone with the kind of strangers he’d taught her to distrust. Until he’d died without giving her the chance to see him once more. Hadn’t he known that if there was danger she wanted to be a part of it? That even if someone had found their forest, she’d rather die beside him than be left alone in the world?
But she wasn’t alone.
With eyes that burned, Eliza stared at Felton riding before her. His back stayed straight and rigid, as if no weight in the world could make it crumble. His horse moved steadily and purposefully, guided by hands that allowed no less, and he kept a pace just fast enough to get them to the village before dark, while slow enough that it would be no strain on her.
He was as noble as she’d ever imagined him to be. He was like a tower she could run to, a branch she could cling to at the edge of a cliff. For now, she could survive. Because he had come. Because he was here. Because she wasn’t alone.
But for how long? At what point would he leave her? She couldn’t go back with him, and he couldn’t stay with her. There was no answer. Except that they must be parted. Then what would she do?
As the sky turned a deep, cloudy blue and darkness slowly fell, the lights of the village finally came in sight. A leaning signpost, withWeltworthpainted on the rough wood, pointed them on to where the dirt road turned into cobblestone.
Merrylad’s bark and the steady clomp of their horses echoed into the hushed village. The buildings on both sides of them cast long shadows, deepening the dusk, chilling her until she shivered.
When they reached a brick, white-painted building, Felton dismounted. “A lodging house.” He reached for her, caught her waist, and swung her to the ground. Taking her hand, he led her into the building that smelled old and decayed.
A gray-haired woman in a mobcap met them upon entrance. Her smile was all gums. “Evening there. Young and married, are you?”
“No.” Felton nodded toward the dark staircase. “We shall need two rooms. Next to each other, if you please.”
“Ain’t got none side by side. Not wot’s empty, I mean.”
“It shall suffice.” Felton handed the woman a pound, to which her smile grew wider and two blackened teeth appeared. “See that a chambermaid is sent up to help Miss Gillingham, and we shall need fresh water and a hot meal sent up.”
“Anything you want, mister, you just ask ol’ Cleda.” She stuffed the pound past her fichu and gave it a pat. “Now, shall I take the two o’ you to your chambers?”
Felton turned to Eliza. “I must see to the horses and Merrylad. Go with the woman, and I shall come soon.”
Her heart hurt when he tugged away his fingers, but he paused before he left. He pulled something from his pocket and placed a note into her palm. “You will want to be alone anyway.”
Then he was gone, and the smiling old woman took her arm, led her up the creaking stairs, and deposited her into a room with two open windows.
As moonlight spilled in, as the night air stirred dust motes, Eliza took the candle the woman had given her and settled on the edge of the bed. She shook as she turned it over and read the large, messy letters of her name.
Captain had written to her.
He had one more thing to tell her before she’d never hear from him again.
Felton led the horses behind the lodging house and entered the gray, splintery stables. Leaning against one of the stalls, a tall groom in patched clothing raised his dirty topper. “Cleda’s lodger, I presume?”
“Yes.” Felton nodded to a couple of empty stalls at the back. “Those are unspoken for?”
“Indeed, sir. Indeed. If you hadn’t already guessed, this used to be a coaching inn, thus the spacious stables.”
Felton led the horses to the stalls, pulled off Eliza’s saddle first, then grabbed a brush and went to work on the animal’s sweaty back. “I shall need fresh hay for both animals.”
“Indeed, sir.” Already, Merrylad sniffed the man’s boots. “Inquisitive little dog you have here, sir. Quite inquisitive.”
“Is there a place he might be kept?”
“I imagine there is some little corner we might fix up for the little pet.”
