Page 26 of An Outlaw’s Desire

A breath rushed from him. He pushed the door outward a short distance, and then the door refused to move any farther. When he reached his arm through the gap, his fingers met fabric. He’d been right about the tapestry. Behind that he felt a solid object: a waist-high furnishing.

Pressing his shoulder to the door, he leaned against it. With the sound of scraping of wood, the furnishing shifted. Moving into the gap, he forced the door the rest of the way open.

Pitt stepped into the chamber. He’d pushed aside a chest of drawers. A four-poster bed with tables either side occupied the space opposite him. Logs burned in the hearth to the left of the bed, where a book lay open to the fire’s light. To the right of the bed, a trestle table bore a basket filled with fabric and thread, some small pots, and a comb.

The air smelled faintly of almond oil. Deeper memories stirred, of pulling Blythe into his embrace and breathing in the intoxicating scent of her skin.

What an idiot he’d been, to have ever let her go.

He should have run away with her. Aye, he’d made other mistakes in his life, but he regretted losing her most of all.

Crossing to the table, he looked over the items. Naught that he saw gave any insight into the identity of the woman.

As he turned to the fire, he spied a small linen chest pushed against the wall. ’Twas not chivalrous for him to go through a lady’s belongings, but he had to ease his curiosity.

He’d just rounded the bed when he heard voices outside the chamber. They were getting louder. The woman might be returning to the room.

His gaze flew to the chest of drawers and the open door. No way could he dart back into the tunnel and pull the piece of furniture back into place…and he hadn’t accomplished what he’d come into the room to do.

Fool! You’re going to get caught.

Nay. He hadn’t been discovered yet. He still had a chance of going undetected.

He hurried to the tapestry, straightened it to hide the passageway door, and then lifted and maneuvered the chest of drawers. Glancing at the door again, he saw the iron handle shift downward.

He dropped to the floorboards. Silently thanking the craftsman who had left enough space under the bed frame, he scrambled underneath.

Chapter Six

Her smile lingering, Blythe shut her chamber door and leaned back against it. A short while ago, when she’d reached Clarine’s room, the child had been sobbing. The darling girl had been worried about not having enough cloth and stuffing to make birds to give to her parents when they visited. Blythe had sat beside her in bed, drawn her into her arms, and promised they would not run out of materials. After telling the child a hastily-made-up story about a sparrow discovering the deliciousness of breadcrumbs, Clarine had snuggled into her bedding and closed her eyes.

Trying to ignore the longing within her—how Blythe would have loved a daughter just like Clarine—she reached for the tie of her robe. Her hands stilled. Her instincts told her something was amiss.

Blythe looked about the interior. The book lay on the hearth tiles where she’d left it. The items on the trestle table appeared undisturbed, and a servant hadn’t yet delivered the chamomile and lavender infusion Blythe had requested from the kitchen to help her sleep.

Why, then, was she unsettled?

Her gaze returned to the book, still open to the page on the stone circle. Mayhap encountering the stranger earlier, plus what she’d read, had unnerved her more than she’d thought.

She’d be sensible and not read any more tonight.

After removing her robe, Blythe set it on the table. Wearing only her sheer linen chemise, she padded toward the fire to gather up the tome.

She stumbled to a halt. On the planks were dusty smudges, leading to the left side of the bed.

Footprints? If so, they were too big to be hers. They also headed in the direction of the hearth, not away from it, so a servant hadn’t cleaned out the ashes and spilled some while leaving.

Goose bumps prickled on her arms. Should she call for the guards? She’d passed two on the way to her room.

Her gaze shifted to the gap under the bed.

The space looked big enough to hide someone.

Or something.

Foolish to call the guards unless there is good reason. First, look under the bed.

Her breathing quickened. She did not want to peek under the furnishing.