Page 62 of Outrageous

She frowned. “But it’s not his fault. Surely they should—”

“Could you finish the story before we begin our crusade, Eva?”

“Oh, yes. Of course. But you will help him, won’t you? Both postboys, that is? Joe is still here; he’s seems to have a case of the sniffles and is sleeping above the stable.”

“I’ll help them all I can,” he assured her. “The rest of the story, please.”

“So, er, we came back here and—” She gave him a sheepish smile. “Well, actually, that’s about it. Oh, except that Mr. Norton is holding on to our guns.” She scowled. “Andrew just handed them over.”

Godric thought that was probably a fine thing, given how much the two young people argued. “Has anyone gone for a constable?”

“Mr. Norton said he’d send his son to the nearest town in the morning. It’s just too dreadful out right now and he’s worried the boy would be out well past dark.”

They both turned toward the window. Godric could hear the insistent patter of rain against the panes; the light was weak and gray. “It doesn’t seem any worse than it’s been,” he said.

“It’s no longer bucketing, but it only stopped for about five minutes this evening and hasn’t let up since. I fear we shall all be underwater soon,” she told him with a sour twist to her mouth. “Mr. Norton said the banks of the river have overflowed and the roads in both directions are washed out. That’s why we didn’t send for the nearest doctor—he’d never make it here in his trap.” She slanted him a look. “Do you think we should? Send for a doctor, that is?”

“No.”

“Are you just saying that, or—”

“Eva, I am fine. I’ve boxed plenty of times.” Although it was true he couldn’t recall hurting so much before. “I just needed a bit of rest.” Godric thought the lack of sleep these past few days had actually been more debilitating than the sore muscles and bruises from today’s fight.

She heaved a big sigh and opened her mouth, but the door behind her opened. Eva shot to her feet, her expression instantly dark and thunderous. “Oh, Mrs. Crosby.” She spoke with all the enthusiasm of a woman who has discovered a garden slug on a favorite bloom.

Godric’s head ached with the sudden change of pressure in the room. Good God. What now?

The person who entered was not what Godric had expected when he’d heard the woman was a cook. This woman was almost as beautiful as his wife-to-be, but blond and green-eyed rather than dark, and a decade or so older. She was also taller and more generously proportioned. She would have been a stunner in any environment but was doubly so in the humble confines of an inn.

“You didn’t need to bring it yourself, Mrs. Crosby.” Eva glared at Andrew, who just shrugged helplessly.

Mrs. Crosby ignored Eva as if she’d never even spoken—not a wise decision, in Godric’s opinion—and smiled at him brightly enough to singe his eyebrows. “Well, look who’s awake. Good evening, Mr. Fleming.”

“Good evening, ma’am. I understand you’re the one who patched me up.” He touched the bandage wrapped around his head and gave her a slight smile.

“I did that,” Eva blurted before the other woman could even open her mouth. Her face immediately turned an ugly, mottled red. The look Mrs. Crosby gave her was tolerant—but condescending: an older sister amused by her younger sister’s antics.

Oh dear.

“It’s true, Mr. Fleming. Your . . . wife, was very helpful.” Godric was not mistaken in believing she was giving him a look of amused condescension and found he didn’t care for it any more than Eva appeared to do, albeit for entirely different reasons. Why would this woman be suspicious of their marital status?

“I’m sorry you were accosted and robbed in what used to be a very pleasant neighborhood. It has become quite common now, as so many people in these parts have fallen on hard times.” Her full, smiling lips sent one message but there was a hard glint in her eyes that said she was not without sympathy for the robbers’ plight. Well, that was likely a common attitude not only here, but all over Britain, thanks to the government’s disgraceful lack of action on behalf of the flood of injured, jobless soldiers.

“I’m afraid we were relieved of not only our possessions, but all our money.”

“Mrs. Fleming informed me of that fact. Mr. Norton is pleased to extend you every courtesy, sir.”

Well, that was something, at least.

Godric inclined his head. “Please extend my gratitude for his generosity. I wish I could say we’d not impose on him for long, but . . .” He gestured toward the window, and she nodded.

“I recommend you stay on for at least a few days, no matter the weather. That swelling on your right temple is a bit concerning and should be given a chance to heal. I told your . . . wife you should remain in bed and have gruel and broth for a few days. Just until you recoup your strength, which shouldn’t take a man like yourself too terribly long.” She allowed her wicked green eyes to roam his body in a way intended to get his blood all moving in one direction.

Eva was glaring at the other woman as if she were a venomous reptile that had slithered into their midst and then sunk its fangs into Godric’s thigh. He couldn’t help wondering if Mrs. Crosby understood the danger she was courting by teasing the volatile young woman. Part of him—the bigger part—believed she knew exactly what she was doing. Although why she would choose to taunt a stranger was beyond him. Perhaps it was merely the boredom of a too-attractive rural widow, provided she was a widow and not behaving like a mare in estrus even though she had a husband still in the picture.

“Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Crosby.” He gave her a warm smile to demonstrate that two could play at the same game, and her brilliant eyes widened in surprise. “But I believe I’d like some tea, toast, eggs, and ham—my wife tells me Mr. Norton is quite a hand when it comes to curing. I’d also like a basin of hot water and the loan of a razor, if that can be arranged.”

She nodded slowly, as if his words had pained her, and Godric felt a bit bad about putting her in her place, although it was better than letting Eva manage the matter.