Part 4 (1/2)
Perhaps another would not have noticed. But he'd studied her interactions with others often enough to see past the s.h.i.+eld of her public face.
”You did what you had to,” he said, closing the distance between them. She smelled like lavender and deep ocean. A heady scent no other woman could ever match. ”Just as I did what I needed to do.”
”I do not like killing.”
”Nor do I.”
She waved her fingers again. ”I do not like you.”
Giles laughed. ”Do not think you frighten me, little girl. You shan't be rid of me so easily.”
Her mouth dropped open, and he fought the urge to kiss her. Heaven help him on their journey to Firehame. His only defense against her appeal had been distance, and he would not be able to keep it. And now that she knew the truth about him, it seemed it had broken some sort of barrier between them, for they spoke to each other now more than they had in the past nine years. Which meant he would have to be even more vigilant against his affection for her.
At the thought, he raised his hand and touched her cheek, that thrill of antic.i.p.ation running through him again. Indeed, he did have an affection for her. How astonis.h.i.+ng.
She stepped away from his touch. ”Do not think to use your wiles upon me. I am no longer a child. And do not think I am going with you to become some p.a.w.n for your Rebellion. I will not be used-by you or anyone else. I am going to see this Sir Robert of yours only to find my father. He will know of Thomas's last mission... unless... did Father tell you?”
Giles shook his head. Even if he did know, he wouldn't likely tell her, nor did he think Sir Robert would, either. But if he wished the young woman off his hands and the end of this task so he could be given another, he wouldn't admit this. ”No. And please refrain from bandying the man's name about. I confessed it to you only in the dire need of your circ.u.mstances.”
”I'm surprised you were given his name.”
”The Rebellion will risk much to protect you.”
She grimaced. He could not help but grin at such a look.
”Come,” he said, bending down to pull on his boots. ”We should leave at once.” A bit of sand had stuck to his stockings and p.r.i.c.kled his feet as he walked up the rise. He did not wait for her, knowing she would follow. For he'd heard about the men leaving, had known that Will would go with them.
The village held nothing for her now.
Indeed, as they made their way to his smithy it felt as though they walked through an empty village. The young men must have already left, and perhaps many of their families as well. It would be foolish to stay and wait for the soldiers to come.
Cecily tried to walk away, and he stayed her with a raised hand. ”It's best if we do not part.”
She gave him an indignant look. ”I need to pack some items for the journey. I will meet you back here in a few hours.”
Giles entered the stable next to the smithy, his mind already racing with plans for the journey. It would take at least six days to reach London, perhaps more since they needed to travel in secret. He had but one horse, Apollo, a brute big enough to bear his weight, but Thomas kept extra mounts stabled, and he thought the small brown mare would suit Cecily. ”I think it's better if you stay with me. I have already packed the supplies and need only to prepare the horses. Does this little mare meet with your approval?”
Giles turned around and realized he spoke to air.
He frowned and patted the mare's neck. ”Ah, Belle. It would seem that this is going to be a most difficult journey, eh? With that young lady hating me-and me wanting her-all at the same time.” The horse nickered, nosing into his pockets in hopes of a treat. Giles fetched out a bit of wilted carrot and saddled her while she crunched. ”The hatred doesn't worry me. It's the wanting that could get me into trouble.”
When he'd finished with the mare he saddled up Apollo, who stamped his feet until he'd been given a carrot as well.
It took Giles only a few moments to arrange the bags on the mounts. When he'd awoken this morning, he had decided to take Cecily to Firehame whether the woman would come willingly or no, so he'd packed the bags and dressed in his buckskins. He supposed he should be grateful she had changed her mind. He'd never had to force a woman to do anything.
”Although,” he muttered as he led the horses from the stables, ”Cecily is not a woman who can be forced to do anything. And that, my beasties, will have her and I knocking our heads together before we travel far.”
Belle nickered and Apollo snorted. Fie, how he loved the beasts. They listened to everything he said and never talked back.
Giles didn't spare a glance for the smithy he left behind. He had always known that it had been but a temporary arrangement for him, despite having lived here for years. And although it had become his home, and he'd made a few friends in the village, his heart felt light as he left it behind for good. He did not lock the doors, and welcome to any man who wished to take up where he'd left off. He didn't suppose it would be any time soon, but after a while the village would become populated again.
The fis.h.i.+ng hereabouts made for a comfortable livelihood.
As if on cue, Old Man Hugh popped his head out the door of his cottage as Giles pa.s.sed.
”Ye be taking her away then?”
Giles nodded.
The old man spat. ”Can't say as I'm sad to see her go. Nor ye, for that matter.”
Giles turned to him in surprise. One of the men he'd thought he had made friends with was Hugh.
”Ach, now, don't be looking that aways. It's not that I don't like either of ye. It's just... ye two are not for the likes of our little village. Ye belong in the world that made ye.” He stepped out of the doorway of his cottage, holding out a hand k.n.o.bby with age and hard work. ”I'll miss ye, though, Mister Giles Beaumont.”
Giles shook the dry hand.
Hugh let out a cackle. ”Lud, don't ye think I know that blade of yers is destined to protect more than this humble village?”
The devil-sword s.h.i.+vered in its scabbard, as if it knew it was the object of discussion.
”You see more than most, Old Man. More than I had thought.”
”That I do.” Hugh stepped closer and lowered his gravelly voice. ”I'm naught but a worn-out fisherman, son, but sometimes I see things-there's a bit of elven blood in me own line. So heed the advice of this old man, for I'm given it to ye in good faith. Ye may not get what ye want, but it will be more'n ye ever thought to have. So be patient. With yer ambition, and the girl.”
One of the injured cried out from within the dark recesses of the cottage and Hugh turned to answer.
”Wait,” said Giles, his fear for the old man overriding his confusion about the advice he'd been given. ”Come with us. When the soldiers return, they may not feel like talking. It's dangerous to stay.”
”And who will take care of the injured?” asked Hugh. ”Besides, I no more belong in yer world than ye do in mine. Naw, get on with ye, boy. And use the elven blood in yer veins to help the human part of ye. For freedom is worth any cost.” He scrambled back into his cottage, throwing his parting words over one strong, bony shoulder. ”Good luck to ye, Beaumont, and may the Good Lord bless ye.”
With that parting benediction, Giles left the village for the last time, following the small pathway that led to Thomas's cottage. The honeysuckle that usually surrounded the front of the little house had been torn away, straggles of blossoms releasing a strong aroma as he tread upon them to knock at the door.
She answered it within a heartbeat, her gaze quickly skimming past him to the waiting horses. ”I'm more at home in the water than on the back of a beast.”
”I know. But Belle is a docile mount.”
”It's the sidesaddle,” she continued, stepping back from the doorway and allowing him in.
”I know,” he said again.
She huffed. ”I suppose you know a great many things about me, after spying on me all these years. And I suppose I will have to become adjusted to who you really are... and not who I thought you were.”
Giles shrugged, surveying the homey cottage. ”I'm the same person and so are you. Only our circ.u.mstances have changed.”
”Perhaps.” She hefted a rather large valise.
He shook his head. ”We travel light.”
She sighed but didn't argue, setting the bag on the bedstead and sorting through it. ”I shall have only one change of clothes, and no hoops. The prime minister will think I'm a country b.u.mpkin... ah, faith, that's what I am. I just hope he takes me seriously.”