How to bring that up now?
“What kind of words do you want from me, Siân?”
A vulnerable look flashed in her gaze before she spun away. He realized she kept doing that when all he wanted was for her to look at him.
When she began to pace, he didn’t know how to steer the conversation back to them. Because that was what they were doing. They were talking of them. She wouldn’t care about his words unless she wanted to hear them.
But she was peering around the corners, weaving in and out of the fire’s glow. Was she looking for a ghost or avoiding him?
“Certainly, she couldn’t begrudge us a chance to dry,” he said.
“Given she was the one who was falsely accused…and killed by a jealous husband, I think she has a lot of begrudging to do.”
A harsh howling of wind swept through the room, but it wasn’t enough to ruffle Reginald’s still-damp hair.
“You’re still soaked,” she said.
“We probably both need to change clothes,” he admitted, but knew that wouldn’t happen, no matter how much he wished for it.
“I hung my cloak there, but—” She looked around one more corner.
“Is she there?” Reggie said.
She looked over her shoulder. “Are you asking because of me or because of the ghost?”
Her eyes widened before she turned away again. Too late, because there was no denying her personal question. Siân wanted him to talk, perhaps protect her!
“You truly are worried we’re here,” he said.
“This room is intact, and no furniture was taken away. It’s not just me wary of this room—it’s everyone.”
He looked over her shoulder and up at the corners. “Yet we’ve been here with a fire undisturbed. Has the ghost ever harmed anyone?”
“I think her chasing them away has been enough.”
“So you’re saying we’re here with an unfriendly ghost?”
Her perplexed frown wasn’t the only indication he shouldn’t have asked.
“Are we dry enough?” he asked. “Do you want to leave?”
Another howl of wind, another slash of rain. “We’re dry enough to know that will be no better if we go out in that.”
True, but if she was truly frightened, he’d brave the weather. “The daylight was fading when I went out again.”
“How were the horses?”
She wanted to talk of horses? “Unperturbed, which is surprising for the weather.”
She gave a slight smile. “I knew mine would be fine. He’s of sound farm stock and not easily scared of lightning and thunder.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You thought my horse, which has been in three battles, would be scared of a little rain?”
“What’s a military horse have on a good farm horse?”
“You think I don’t know about farm horses. My family and I worked with the land.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Again I said something which I know isn’t true. I don’t know why I said that. I…like that you grew up farming, even though you’re impatient with sheep.”
