Page 61 of Outrageous

“First off,” Andrew said, “I’m not your servant. Second, Mrs. Crosby said he should drink that tonic. She also said he was to have broth—gruel at the—”

“Mrs. Crosby is hardly an authority—she’s not a doctor.”

“She knows a sight more about it than—”

“No gruel.”

The boy made a disgruntled sound at Godric’s words and huffed. “Fine.”

Eva smirked while Andrew turned and stomped out, at least not slamming the door.

“Who is Mrs. Crosby?”

Eva scowled. “The cook here. The woman thinks she knows everything—and she’s bossy to boot.”

Pot, meet kettle.

Naturally, Godric did not say that out loud.

“Do you want to sit up?” she asked.

It took a few moments of shifting, and he had to help her as she was far too small to lift him, but finally he was upright. After the initial rush of dizziness and nausea, he felt much better.

“How long have I slept?” he asked as she brought a chair closer to the bed and sat.

“We got here today at just after two and it’s seven o’clock now.”

He grimaced. Five hours lost.

“You hadn’t slept much the prior two nights,” she pointed out. “You needed it.”

Godric lifted a hand to thrust his hair off his forehead, which was when he noticed he was wearing a nightshirt; he never wore nightshirts.

Eva must have seen his look and said, “It’s Mr. Norton’s son’s.”

“Who is Mr. Norton?”

“The innkeeper.”

“Where are we?”

“At the Greedy Vicar Inn.”

Godric’s eyebrow shot up.

She laughed with obvious delight. “I know—what a lovely name for an inn, isn’t it? It’s only an inn, not a proper posting house, so there are just the two rooms available.” She stumbled a bit on this last part, her cheeks flushing a charming pink, before hurrying on. “We’re three miles from the village of Bellsley, but it’s too small to have an inn or a constable or doctor or anything.”

“Never heard of it,” Godric said.

“Nobody has. This is the back of beyond, and we are dead in the middle of it. I didn’t even know England had so many trees.” She cut him a look of earnest disbelief. “Lots of woods about, which I suppose is how Flynn and his band can play Robin Hood so effectively.”

Flynn.

“Tell me what happened . . . after,” Godric said.

“The two postboys got free. Flynn wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t hurt them. One of them went to the nearest farmstead to get help while the other started walking back toward the main road—isn’t that mad?” She cocked her head, her eyebrows arched high. “I mean, walking in this weather?”

Godric thought that was probably the wisest way to travel in such weather. “I daresay he’s eager to report the loss to his employer. He’ll be in a great deal of trouble when they learn a team and carriage were stolen under his watch.”