ON THE ROAD AGAIN
The next morning Henry awoke feeling deliciously warm. He rolled over and looked at Amice where she laid, head pillowed beside his. She had turned in her sleep and he was looking into her sweet face. Her eyes were closed, dark lashes resting on her cheeks. He felt as if he had never seen anything so beautiful before.
She was breathing low, even breaths. Her shoulder rose and fell with them, covered by the creamy linen of her gown. It showed her neck, bare and soft, and he ached to kiss her.
“Amice,” he murmured.
Her eyelids flickered. He watched her stir and, slowly, come to wakefulness. Her eyelids fluttered and he found himself looking into her brown eyes.
He let out a breath. If I survive this mission, I will wake up like this every morning – duty notwithstanding – until the end of my days.
It was a promise to himself. Yes, their families would probably object. Yes, he would likely have to turn his back on his life as the baron's son and spend the rest of it as a humble seafarer. However, it would be worth it. Anything would be.
She stared at him. Her soft lips drew back in a smile. “Henry,” she whispered.
“Amice.”
He sat up in the bed, the pillow behind him. He had to move a little, put just a little distance between them or he would definitely do something he would regret. He coughed.
“We...we should think about moving on today,” he said cautiously.
“Mm.” Amice stretched. He closed his eyes. He was not going to think about how stunning she was. He was not going to think about kissing her. He was absolutely not going to think about how wonderful it would be to be on top of her, his arms round her, tongue exploring her even as the rest of him...
“Let's get up,” he said harshly.
She blinked. “Well, if you insist,” she said, sounding a little surprised. “Myself, I like to be peaceful for a bit before I hurl myself into the day, but other people...” she muttered, looking at him with big eyes, “other people have other ways of doing things.”
He laughed. “My dear, I assure you that, were it at all possible, I would spend whole days doing just that. But now, we have a spy to find.” He swung his legs out of the bed and drew the covers over the mattress fastidiously.
“We do,” Amice agreed. She had got out of bed as well and was straightening the covers, making her side neat and tidy. She went to the dressing table. “It's a sunny day.”
“Mm,” Henry nodded. “First one we've had.”
“It is,” Amice agreed. She stretched and he closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the careless display of magnificence that was her simply inhabiting her body.
He coughed again. His throat was very tight! He knew it was because he was focused entirely on his longing for her. He rinsed his face in the icy pitcher. There! That ought to cool his head.
He chuckled as he toweled face and hair, reaching for his tunic. He stopped.
“Turn round,” he said quickly.
“Yes, sir.”
He heard her shift in the seat and cautiously drew the nightwear over his head. He was wearing a pair of breeks but nothing else. He drew on trousers and turned round to lift his tunic from the bed. To catch her staring.
“Amice!” he scolded. He felt himself blush and she blushed too. They were both giggling helplessly now, like naughty children. His shoulders shook. “The idea!” he said, with mock affront. “And there I was believing that you were looking away!”
“I'm so sorry,” she said, her broad grin belying her words. She giggled. “I am awful, aren't I?” She shook her head, shocked. He laughed.
“No, you aren't. I have to admit I'm not in the least upset about it. Now come on,” he added with a grin. “We really ought to have some repast. We have to go.”
Amice nodded. “Now,” she said, standing. “I am going to draw the bed curtain and I will absolutely not countenance any watchers.”
“You have my word,” he said solemnly. They both giggled.
“Henry, I'm serious,” she said firmly.”
“Very well. I promise.”
He went and stood on the other end of the room, near the door. He could hear the sweet sounds of her moving about behind the screening presence of the curtain and he let his imagination take wing. He was flushed and aching with longing by the time she appeared.
“Ready,” she said. She saw his expression and her face fell. “You didn't peek. Did you?”
Henry grinned. “No, my dear. I promise. I was here all along.”
“I believe you,” she said, looking at him trustingly from under her brows. “Now, let's go and find some breakfast.”
“Yes.”
Laughing, his heart feeling light in ways it had never felt in his life, or at least in any of his remembering, he followed her down the stairs to the dining room and breakfast.
The diners all gave them a wide berth. The inn-keeper gave Henry a dark glance but brought them breakfast. The red-haired spy did not arrive.
As they ate, enjoying the breakfast of fresh baked loaves and hard-boiled eggs and milk, they discussed their plans.
“We need to go back to the manor,” Henry said. He was angry now. “I need to find out what that man is playing at.”
“You mean the duke?” Amice asked, frowning. “Shouldn't we just ignore it? As long as we can stay out of his reach.”
“I can't ignore it,” Henry said, shaking his head. “First, because I need to find out what's happening – it's my duty to the crown to do so. Second, because that man could have killed you. It can't go unanswered.”
Amice shook her head. She was smiling though, the expression gentle on her sweet lips. “You don't need to be angry about that anymore,” she said. “We should just forget about it.”
“Mm,” Henry agreed reluctantly. “I know it's what I should do. I might put you in worse danger if I don't. But I can't rest until I find out why he's doing this. Does he know who I really am? Or does he think I am the French spy?”
Amice raised a brow. “I didn't consider that. How will you know?”
“I don't know yet,” Henry said softly. “We might have to think about that as we go along.”
“Very well,” Amice agreed. “Well, if we have a good breakfast, we'll be better able to consider that.”
Henry laughed. “Sensible as always.” He reached for another slice of the loaf. “I like that.”
Amice blushed. “Thank you, dear.”
He helped them both to more bread and they sat in contented silence, watching the inn come slowly awake. Out beyond the window, a cart left the yard and at another a man hefted bags of grain, carrying them awkwardly into the storehouse.
Henry chewed on the fresh-baked bread and considered their various different options. If we go back to the duke's home, what can we do? We can't exactly rush in and confront him. We know how many guards he has in there.
What did he think he was going to do? Storm into the great hall and accuse the duke of Cullver of trying to kill him? He was a spy: all of Scotland would applaud the duke for that. How could he find out whose side the man was on? The only way he could think of was via Adair.
“Henry?” Amice asked.
“Mm?” Her words startled out of a world where he confronted the duke and faced his own death.
“If we make good time, we might reach Dunkeld in five days' time.”
“Oh.” Henry frowned. “Well, you are the one who knows where we're going.” He was surprised by the tumult of feelings that her statement raised in him. When we get there, she'll be so pleased to be back with her family, she'll likely forget all about me. After all, for all our closeness on this journey, she is one of them. I don't belong to her world.
“I suppose so,” she said quietly. Henry frowned, wondering what he had done to upset her. She's probably just overwrought, he decided. I am being unfair. After all, we both narrowly escaped death yesterday.
They finished their breakfast and Henry stretched, and then made a decision. “I think I have to go back, my dear. But you should stay here.”
Amice gave him one of her special looks. One of the ones that questioned his sanity. “I'm not letting you go anywhere alone.”
“Amice...” he sighed. “Please. It's for your safety.”
“Oh.” She looked at him blankly. “So you expect to leave me here in a town where I know no one, while you go off and get yourself killed. Because that's so much safer for me.”
“You have a point,” he admitted.
“I do that sometimes.”
Henry roared with laughter. “There's no one like you in the whole world, I hope you know.”
“You can thank your lucky stars for that,” she said with a smile. “Were there, we'd drive you barmy.”
He shook his head and reached a hand across the table to hers. “No. No, you wouldn't. If there were more people like you, the world would be a much better place.”
Amice sighed. “You shouldn't say such things.”
“Not even when I mean them?”
She just smiled. “Oh, Henry.”
He patted her hand fondly and raised a brow. “Shall we go?”
She drew in a deep breath. “Yes.”
They had a dangerous enemy to confront and a spy to find. Time was running short.