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Instinctively, my arm tightened around her, and I urged my horse forward, towards the bridge. Towards safety.
‘Developed an interest in medieval architecture, have you, Mr Ambrose?’ the impudent female in front of me enquired.
‘No. This is where we are meeting up with Karim and the other men.’
‘The other men?’
‘The maid could not provide any information on whether Dalgliesh had already removed you from the hut she saw you in. So I sent some men to Dalgliesh’s closest holding, just in case.’
Just in case. Hire men, just in case. Pay money, just in case. What is happening to me?
‘Halt!’
Was it a command to my men or to myself?
Raising a hand, I brought my men to
a stop. Not letting her go for a minute, I slid out of the saddle, setting her down on the ground.
‘Spread out!’ I commanded. And that only applies to my men, Miss Linton, not to you. ‘Dalgliesh’s men may follow our trail and decide to attack. If they do, I want ample warning. Form a perimeter. Keep your guns handy, and be ready to fight.’
‘Yes, Sir! You heard him, men. Go!’
The riders galloped off in different directions, leaving her and me alone in front of the bridge.
‘Come.’ I nodded at the bridge. Taking a firm hold of her hand, I strode forward until we stood in the very centre of the bridge, far away from either riverbank. The safest point. In the icy cold, I could almost feel her, warm and soft, standing only inches away. The urge to turn my head to the right, to look at her, was almost irresistible.
Almost.
I didn’t turn. Instead, I looked out over the ice of the river. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her slide her hands under her armpits. Was she cold?
And why precisely do you care?
A stiff breeze swept over us, and I forced my eyes forward again, pretending I was alone. Pretending I was at the prow of a ship, sailing far, far away from any—
‘Bloody hell! You couldn’t have found a warm spot to wait, could you?’
Did you really think you could pretend for long around her?
‘At the time, Miss Linton, I had slightly more pressing matters on my mind.’
Such as whether or not you would survive, for instance.
But now she was safe. Now she was standing right beside me. And she was cold.
Without even giving it a thought, I lifted one arm, offering.
Offering something for nothing. Something really is wrong with you.
Without a word, she slid under my arm, pressing her body close to mine. And it suddenly occurred to me that, perhaps, I was not offering something in return for nothing. Perhaps I would be receiving something very valuable in return.
Time ticked by. We just stood there, looking out over the ice-covered river. One minute. Two minutes. Three. With every passing moment, the warmth between us spread, blossoming from a pile of embers into a crackling fire. Four minutes. Five.
Say something!
Why? Why should I want to say something?
Because! Because you have to know she wasn’t…
