For their dinner they ate the last of the meat pies. Again, Lyssa didn’t have much of an appetite. She discovered that instead of being excited at reaching their destination, she was sorry to let the journey go.
Ian stretched out on the ground three feet from where she lay with the scent of pine around her. Clouds blocked the moon and the fire was welcome, although sleep did not come. No matter how tired she was, she was too aware of him. And she shouldn’t have been.
“So do you think you will marry Grossett?”
His unexpected question caught her off guard. “No, I will not.”
“Good.” She heard a smile in his voice and rolled over onto her stomach so she could see him. She would not tell him she had no intention of returning to London once she reached Amleth Hall. Honesty could only go so far, or so she reminded herself, and matters were still tenuous between them.
“What of you?” she asked.
He rolled over on his own stomach and rested his chin on his hands. “I’ll go on with my plans.”
“To leave England.”
“Yes.”
She didn’t like the idea of him being far away.
“You don’t have to leave. My father is always looking for good men.” She studied her thumb-nail, worried by her own audacity. “He owns numerous farms and could put you in charge of one. You could raise your race horses and your sisters and their children would be happy.” Of course, if she didn’t return with Ian, her father would be angry with them both. But she wanted to believe all could work out. There had to be a way for her to have everything she wanted.
“I can’t stay, Lyssa.” His voice had gone flat again. “There’s a price on my head.”
For a moment, she thought she hadn’t heard him correctly. She sat up. “A what?”
“A price.” He was watching her closely and she didn’t know how to react.
“For what?” she dared to ask.
“Treason.”
Chapter Twelve
IANhad never told another soul what he’d just said to Lyssa. His family knew, of course. He’d destroyed their lives with his foolishness.
But he had to tell Lyssa. She had to lose the starry look in her eyes. Even when he’d captured the runaway pig, she’d looked at him as if he were a hero.
And he wasn’t any damn hero.
But when she spoke, she surprised him. “Is it a verylargeprice they are asking for you?”
“Why? Are you planning on collecting it?”
Tossing her magnificent mane of hair over her shoulder, she said, “I don’t know. I’m assuming that men who do housewives a favor by chasing their pigs can’t be that dangerous.”
“Lyssa, that is a silly thing to say. Any man can be dangerous given the right provocation.”
“Not you,” she said seriously. “You’d not hurt anyone without cause.”
Her faith in him conquered his reticence. “All I wanted was what was right. I wanted justice.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “Then tell me the story and I’ll be the judge.”
Ian ran his hand through his hair, not certain where to start.
“It’s about your being Catholic?” she guessed.
“Hardly. It’s more about Ireland being free to rule herself.” The moment he said those words, the old passion rose strong inside him.
