Isnuck a glance at him under my lashes. The one thing I could not understand was howfullof masculine vitality he was. Even in repose he managed to convey a sense of intensity and purpose. That must have been how he managed to afford such a fine carriage. I had never met anyone like him or felt so nervous in a man’s presence.
Of course, it was ridiculous to even be noticing such a thing. I had hoped my perusal would go unnoticed, but to my discomfort he was looking back at me.
“Take off that netting,” he ordered abruptly. “I want to see the face of my new ward.”
I was not used to being ordered about, but I obeyed, raising the black veil with hands that were not quite steady.
Mr. Nightshade said nothing as he looked at me, only tapped with a strange, rhythmic pattern on his knee, his long legsstretched so wide in the carriage that I had to tighten mine together to avoid our knees brushing.
"Is it a long journey?" I asked, to break the silence.
"If we make good time, we shall get to the Ploughman’s Lunch by nightfall. And then tomorrow–Grayspires."
Leaning back in my seat, I tried to calm my breathing.
"Is your home on a very pretty piece of land?" I ventured to ask.
“It is the most striking land in the world,” he said.
There were so many more questions I wanted to ask about Grayspires, like how close it was to a village, how many servants I would be managing, how many rooms it had, but Mr. Nightshade leaned back and closed his eyes to take a nap and I did not want to anger my guardian on our first day together.
I leaned back and tried to go to sleep as well, but I was too filled with excitement. After several minutes of trying to get comfortable, I ventured another glance over at the harsh face of my companion, surprised to see him observing me under those heavy-lidded eyes.
My breath caught in my throat.
What did he see when he looked at me?
The answer was too confusing and uncertain, so I only turned over and refused to open my eyes until I too had fallen into an anxious, shallow sleep.
When I woke up again it was twilight and we were pulling into a small, rough-looking tavern, the Ploughman’s Lunch sign so worn it was barely legible.
“Thisis where we are going to stay the night?” I asked in astonishment. “It is so small! Will it even have enough rooms?”
“There is no need to worry,” Mr. Nightshade said. “I will sleep on the chair and you may have the bed.”
CHAPTER 2
Deliverance
Although this idea was very embarrassing to me, my guardian seemed to think nothing of it, so I tried to force my pounding pulse to relax.
He assured me that there were spare clothes here I could borrow, so I followed him down to a small private room to await dinner while the servants readied our quarters.
His leg brushed mine as we sat down and once again, I had to pretend like I wasn’t uncomfortably aware of his movements.
The room was dark-paneled and smelled like many nights of heavy beer, but when the pretty serving-maid brought a glass of cherry ratafia with the dinner of roasted fowl and potatoes, I shook my head.
“No, thank you. I don’t drink.”
She flicked an uncertain glance at my companion, but he tapped big knuckles on the wooden table.
“Your father is dead,” Mr. Nightshade said carelessly. “Go ahead. You have been wanting to try ratafia, and here is your chance.”
Now how did he know I had always wanted to try the sweet-smelling liquor, only Papa and I were strict teetotalers?
“Maybe one glass wouldn’t hurt,” I conceded.
And then I took one tiny, little sip.
