Chapter 105

As Splendor brought what was inches from her nose into focus, she barely needed to ask if any moves were left. Dawn edged its fingers between the gaps in the shuttered window, and she was finally able to make out what she was staring at. A strand of hay. She fastened her top lip over her lower one and breathed deeply. Her bright star had dimmed. Considerably.
Now that she could barely see the morning light she faced, for the mess she was in, shouldn't she care? Not really. She'd like to but then again ... She sighed.
Stillmore.
Who would have thought a man as merciless as the Strait of Gibraltar would possess a speck of kindness, let alone the horde he secreted beneath his glowering exterior? As for the effect his mouth had on her body, of the reduction of it by degrees to ashes? What was it Papa always said about things only being a mess if you let them be? What a sensible man.
She sighed again and stretched languidly on the pillow that just happened to be Stillmore's shoulder.
"Christ on a barge with tin horns on the side, is it that time already?" He rolled over away from her. "It can't be."
She froze. His bloody watch on its endless chain scythed across her brain. If Stillmore had it, then he'd found the damn thing beneath him on the floor. His voice sounded muzzy. Although he wasn't such a sensible man, give him another second and even he would be smart enough to work out it couldn't have fallen out of his pocket because it wasn't in his pocket to begin with.
She jerked upright. Shattered moments. These were what her life was composed of. Moments she swept into the dustpan. Moments she must dispose of, of necessity when other people held theirs in their palms like bright baubles.
He turned his head, his gaze resting on her. What was it she'd thought about waking up next to his sulky face on a pillow? She just had. What a pity it had not improved him although it made certain things easier. He frowned.
"What are you doing?"
Getting out of here with Topaz before they were both damn well arrested and had up before the magistrate. What if Topaz had gone and nicked half the contents of the inn? Crockery? Bed linen? Whatever jewels any of the guests had on them?
"I ... I ...Nothing, Your-I was just-"
"Hell on earth, you're surely not leaving this quickly, are you?"
She pulled the coat they'd covered themselves in close against her chest. "Well ... I just thought that a barn at dawn isn't the place to be seen-I mean-"
"It's no worse than a dueling field. In fact, there's those who would find it arguably better."
Oh God, and he was one of these? The trace of fingertips against her bare arm pushed her breath to the back of her throat. Maybe he was growling about the time because he wasn't a morning person? There were those whose stars were dark.
"True, Your Grace." She fought to carefully wriggle free as opposed to leaping halfway across the floor from the makeshift bed. "But it's cold and it's-well, anyone might come along."
"I didn't see that worrying you last night."
And there were those whose stars were charmless.
She glanced at his moody white face, framed by the glowering brows. All her life she had known her way, and that way was simple. Now she hadn't just lost it, that bright abiding star, she was like a rudderless ship trying to navigate a labyrinth, in filthy dark weather. She did have that ten thousand pounds. It meant certain pressures had been removed. She also had that watch weighing her pocket like an albatross and Topaz's poster on the parlor wall. What if one of the serving girls recognized her? What if he recognized her? She needed to get away from here.
"Well, I think you'll find this is this morning and I have Top-I mean my friend-to see to."
"I thought you said she couldn't walk? Or maybe it was her who damn well said it?" His fingertips were followed by his lips. "Whoever it was, something was made of that fact."
"She ... she can't. So it's all the more reason to go. I'm so sorry.Of course I'd stay otherwise."
She raked for her gown. From that, her message should be clear and she wasn't offending his prickly pride. It was just such a shame in delivering the message she wasn't sure where the watch was. In her pocket? On the floor? Her hands trembled.
The watch wasn't the only thing she wouldn't like him to see. Somehow she must slip from this hay bale they'd lain in all night, without displaying her breasts or her backside. The man was a lothario. She tried edging the dress over her head while holding the coat to her breast with her elbows. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut?
He shifted violently.
"I tell you what, why don't you have breakfast with me first?"
Lothario, yes. Glutton, no. She had never seen a morsel of food pass his sensuous lips. She darted her gaze sideways.
"Well. That is very kind, Your Grace. I just--"
"Not a word I'd apply to me. Nor is breakfast something I eat, but do allow me to see to it."
"I'm not dressed for it."
"I'll bring it here. Then we can discuss the next move." She fought not to show the horror that froze her veins. "You mean there is a next move? Who for? Us?"
He pushed the coat back and rose so his perfectly formed buttocks, the corded strength of his shoulder muscles, met her eyes.
"There always is."
"But I thought ... It's just you don't--"
"Wait here."
He dragged on his trousers, tucked himself into his shirt. Then he knelt down. His breath tickled her cheek. "I mean it. I won't be long. If the weather is anything like last night ... "
Her cheeks pulsed. "You mean we all might have to stay here?"
"Right now I don't know."
"Well, hurry back."