Page 87 of Outrageous

Something very much like alarm flickered across her lovely features. “Oh, but there is no room for three.”

“Well then, maybe you could stay behind,” Eva suggested sweetly.

“I shall throw some hay in the back and ride like a reclining king,” Godric said before the cook could reply.

Mrs. Crosby shrugged her shoulders. “Suit yourself.” She abruptly reached out and snatched up his half-full cup of coffee. “This is dreadfully cold, I shall fetch another.”

Before Godric could demur, she was out the door.

Eva heaved a sigh. “Well, that will be an enjoyable journey.”

“You could always stay here and read,” he suggested with a smirk, slathering a chunk of bread with something that looked like plum and orange marmalade.

“Very droll.” She pushed off the side of the bed. “I don’t want her coming up here again. I’m going to fetch my clothing from her.”

“Don’t forget my coffee,” he called after her retreating back. “I’m going to need all the fortification I can get, trapped in a wagon with you two,” he muttered under his breath.

* * *

Eva dressed while Godric finished his breakfast. When she came out from behind the screen, it was to find him smiling beatifically at nothing in particular, his coffee cup clutched in loose fingers.

“Lord, you look as if you could sleep for a month, Godric.”

He chuckled. “I had a rather vigorous evening.”

She shook her head, her face, predictably, heating. “Are you sure you shouldn’t stay and rest? I can handle the beast on my own,” she added.

He gave a rather loud laugh, slurped the last of the coffee and set the cup down with a clatter. “I’ll get dressed.”

Eva wanted to argue with him because he looked like death warmed over, but she wanted him along on the journey.

“I’ll go tell Andrew what we are doing.”

Godric merely blinked owlishly and made a shooing gesture with one hand. “Give me ten minutes.”

Eva wouldn’t be surprised if he was asleep in ten minutes, but said nothing. Instead, she turned to the connecting door and knocked.

“Come in!” Andrew called.

He was crouched over the small table he’d converted into some kind of desk. Spread out across it were parts of—

“Good God, Andrew, are those our guns?” Eva demanded, shutting the door harder than necessary before striding across the small room.

His head whipped up and he frowned. “Yes, I got them as you said—this morning.”

“Why have you torn them apart like that?”

“This is just one of them.”

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning it, if you must know,” he retorted. “Neither of them is much to brag about, but they’ll be worth even less if they don’t fire correctly.”

Eva supposed he had a point. She grunted. “Where did you find them?”

He carefully laid down the piece he was cleaning. “You know those two doors at the end of the hall?”

“The ones that look like doors to more rooms?”