Tom grunted. “She will see us done the same way as soon as she gets what she wants.”
“This is why we will disappear before she gets her hands on the prize she seeks. All we need to do is keep a very close eye on when that is about to happen.”
Chapter Three
The word Primrose had just read fled her mind before she even began to read the next one. It had surprised her to find four books set proudly on a shelf in the private parlor near the fireplace, but she suspected guests had left them behind. Books were valuable but not so much so to some people that they would turn around in their journey to retrieve one. At least none of them appeared to be from some village lending library for such places could not afford the loss.
Her mind was too full of questions and concerns about one Sir Bened Vaughn to stay fixed upon the words in a book, however. Why had he not yet returned? It was dark now. The man might be all he claimed but she could not believe even a highly skilled tracker could find anyone in the dark.
It hurt to think of Smudge being gone from her life, lost to her forever. The mare was a cherished gift from her father, who was also lost to her now. Primrose could remember the day her father had given her the horse. She had been so sad for over a month, ever since her first horse had broken its leg and needed to be killed, ever since she had been thrown from the animal and hurt her head. When she had come to, it had been to the loss of her beloved horse and trouble with her eyesight, a trouble that had lingered. Then her father had given her the dappled gray, laughing when she had squealed in surprise for she had not even known why he had brought her into the stables. She could still recall admitting that she had not seen the yearling, had seen only a smudged image of something that moved.
There had been the hint of tears in his laughter after that but she had pretended she did not hear it. Her father had brought in physician after physician to try to fix her eyesight. She had felt his grief over what had happened to her and done her best never to complain. Her sight might have never gotten better but it had not gotten any worse, either, and she had made herself find some comfort in that. The part of her that suddenly wanted her eyesight to be perfect again because of a broad-shouldered knight made her angry with herself. If Sir Bened was worthy of her good regard, her poor eyesight should be of no concern to him.
Annoyed by her wandering thoughts, she moved to get herself more of the mulled cider the maid had left on the hearth so it would keep warm by the fire. Primrose knew all of society would be shocked to find out she was traveling, unchaperoned, with a man she had only just met. Then again, the fact that she had been traveling alone would have shocked them too. Society, she thought, was far too easily shocked.
Those in society also had evil little minds, she decided as she retook her seat and sipped at her drink. Why else would they immediately assume that she had been soiled just because she traveled alone or with a man not related or married to her? Evidently they thought women too weak and foolish to behave with propriety unless under the strict watch of some relative. The fact that so few women were deeply insulted by that opinion puzzled her. And did men not get insulted by the implication that they were so weak and immoral they could not contain their lusts when alone with a woman?
“Does not matter how unfair, insulting, and ridiculous it all is,” she muttered. “I was ruined the moment I rode away from Willow Hill alone. Having Sir Bened at my side only adds a few more stains on my tattered reputation. It is a small price to pay for finding Simeon and letting him know what sort of danger he is in.”
She sat up straight when she heard the faint echo of the sound of greetings exchanged and the inn workers responding to a new arrival. Primrose prayed it was Sir Bened. Now that he might have returned safely she realized just how deeply afraid for him she had been.
The door opened. Bened stepped in and shut the door behind him. He watched her, smiling faintly but with a look of caution in his eyes. Primrose did not even consider the good or bad sides of what she did next as she stood up, ran over to him, and hugged him. To her shock it was not just relief she felt as her body was pressed up against his and his strong arms wrapped around her. Beneath the lightness of the relief she felt over seeing him return unharmed, a warmth spread through her. Innocent she might be, but Primrose was almost certain that heat was born of desire. Blushing, she stepped back.
“My apologies,” she murmured when he grasped her hands to halt her retreat. “I fear I did naught but sit here and fret after you left to find the horse thieves and the relief I felt to see you return safely proved stronger than good sense and good manners.”