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She saw worry, determination, and something like remorse there. “Don’t you dare pity me,” she whispered. “I will not stand for it.”
She pulled out of his grip to sit on the bed. No wonder women didn’t ask men to wed. It was too painful when they didn’t say yes. Let them be the ones to flay open their hearts.
She untied her boots, kicking them off and climbed into the bed, pins, stays, and stockings all in place. She laid on her side, back to the center, listening to him walk around. The tick sloped as he sat on his edge, and she clung to her side so as not to roll into him. In the dark, she let a hot tear roll out.Fool. When had she let herself fall in love with Greer Buchanan?
*
“These fit wellenough.”
Greer turned to see Lucy standing at the bottom of the stairs dressed in what was probably Lord Norfolk’s servant’s liveried clothes in green and blue. Hose ran up her slender legs and under breeches that fell to her knees. A tunic, tucked under a green wool jacket, hid her curves. Her hands worked to coil her long hair up to pin so that a cap could cover its golden glory.
“Aye.” He pulled at his crotch where the English trews fit too snuggly. “Norfolk was a bit smaller than me. But these will stand out less than my plaid.”
After a long night of half-sleep, dreaming of losing everything from his sword to his mother, Greer had risen before dawn to investigate the house for anything useful. He’d left Lucy sleeping, her face too beautiful to look at for long.
Will you marry me?
Why hadn’t he just said yes?Mo chreach. Because she lived at the English court and had a house in London richer than any in which he’d ever lived. How could she be content living in a cottage on the moors?
“There were some old apples in the cold storage with jars of jam, vegetables, and ale. I mixed some milled flour with a few things to make a few pancakes,” Greer said. “I cooked them over the kitchen fire before dawn so passersby wouldn’t see the smoke.”
“Clever,” she said, tying off her plaited hair.
“They’re good with…the jam.” It was strawberry jam. Just the smell of it made him want to carry Lucy upstairs and stroke her until she forgot about his foolish non-response last night.
“Thank you,” she said cheerily as if nothing painful had happened between them. “I plan to go back to the apothecary and ask about ratsbane purchases. Maybe Jasper Lintel will show up there.”
“He’s not the only apothecary in London,” Greer said, watching her sniff the jar of jam. A slight blush came to her neck, creeping into her cheeks. She didn’t look at him as she spread some on the pancakes.
“’Tis a place to start,” she said. “And then I must get word to the children that I will be hidden for a while.” She chewed for a moment and swallowed. “The children can find information from Whitehall for us.”
“People know they are tied to ye,” he said. “It could be dangerous.”
Her lips pinched in thought. “They could speak with the barn lads, stay hidden, but I’ll warn them of the danger and leave it to them.”
“They’ll help ye anyway.”
She nodded, her brow furrowed. “But without Cordelia, I have no other contact. Well, except William.”
William Darby. Just the thought of the swain made Greer’s stomach tighten. He would have said “yes” as soon as Lucy had asked him to marry.Bloody hell. The smitten man would have asked her in the first place. “Has William asked ye to wed him?”
Fok. What had made him ask that aloud?
She blinked. “Actually, I didn’t give him the chance.”
“Why?” Why the hell was he still talking?
“I told him I only thought of him as a brother or friend.” She tugged on her jacket, pulling the sleeve down over most of her right hand, because wearing lady’s gloves would look odd. “Let’s go.”
She walked away before he could say anything or feel anything except a loosening of his chest.Relief.
Lucy walked with her face down whenever anyone came their way on the roads. In her livery clothes, she looked like a lad. He probably looked like a man who couldn’t afford properly fitted clothing. Well, hewasa man who couldn’t afford a set of English clothing. He had brought only two dress tunics and one extra length of plaid with him. His mother had made him a court costume with breeches, hose, and jacket so he would look appropriate at the Scottish Court in Edinburgh, but he’d left the costume up north.
They dodged around people who were still wishing each other merry. Sometimes he and Lucy would separate to work their way through the tight streets where laundry hung above to dry, and an occasional baker hawked his buns from a cart. But Greer always knew exactly where Lucy was.
The group at the head of London Bridge was thick, and they ended up on opposite sides of the street, making his heart pound when he lost sight of her. But they met before the apothecary shop, which was doing a good business.
Two customers exited the tiny shop, and they walked in. The man frowned at first, but his face opened in surprise when he looked at Lucy. “Milady?” His gaze shifted to Greer, and he frowned. “Still keeping foreign company, I see.” He looked back to her. “And in a new disguise.”
