But she saw someone point. And she saw someone whisper. Then she saw someone touch their face and then look at Katie.
She knew they weren’t staring at Carlisle.
Chapter Ten
Henry was neverso glad to see Dunwich. The village was little more than a smudge on a map, and he’d never before come here unless he was truly desperate for company, other than that of his family, or needing a card game. A game of chance could usually be found at one of the two inns at the town. Not that the village needed two inns. It probably didn’t need one inn, but his father had once told him that decades ago, when more travelers came this way, two brothers had opened an inn. They’d disagreed on some question of management after opening, however, and one brother had bought out his share and opened a rival establishment across the street. Those brothers were no longer alive, but their inns still stood and were managed by their offspring.
Henry imagined several games of cards or dice were being played inside one or both inns at the moment. Normally, he would have made every effort to push thoughts of games of chance aside. Such thoughts were dangerous.
But today, alternative thoughts were more dangerous. Because if he wasn’t thinking about playing faro or vingt-et-un, he’d be thinking about allowing the hand pressed against Katie’s belly to drift upward to cup one of her breasts. Or he’d concentrate on the feel of her round bottom pressed against his open thighs. Thoughts of hazard might distract him from thesweet scent of her hair momentarily, but it seemed every time he moved his face, the scent tantalized him again.
Putting her on the horse with him had been a bad idea. He knew that now. He’d never considered himself a lecherous man, but he couldn’t deny that his thoughts were entering what could only be termed “somewhat lascivious territory.”
“We’ll start in the Bear and Boar,” he said, indicating the more southern inn. “If he’s not there or we can’t get word of him, we can go across to the Wolf and Lion.”
She answered, but he couldn’t hear her, as her head was angled down.
“What was that?”
“Whatever you say,” she answered tersely. Something was amiss. She couldn’t have divined the direction of his thoughts or understood what she was doing to him when she wriggled around on the saddle, so it must be something else.
That was when he noticed several people on the street staring at them. He caught sight of a woman who touched her cheek and then made a sign meant to ward off evil.
Well, devil take it and all of Dunwich to hell. He’d completely forgotten about Katie’s birthmark, and the reaction of the townspeople was exactly what she’d feared it might be.
He could imagine she desperately wished she had her veil now. As much as he understood, and agreed with, his mother about the reasons for leaving it behind, he sympathized with how vulnerable Katie felt in that moment.
“Chin up,” Henry said.
Katie shook her head.
“Chin up,” he repeated. “You’ll only encourage them if you show weakness. Chin up, spine straight. Show them you don’t care what they say.”
“But I do care,” she murmured.
“Then pretend you don’t until you truly don’t care.”
For a long moment, as he guided Gawain—that was the gelding’s name, not Diablo—toward the Bear and Boar, Katie’s head remained lowered. Then, slowly, it came up. Her back went straight, and he imagined her expression was fierce. When Henry threw his reins down to the boy standing in front of the inn, Katie was as stiff as a newly brushed beaver hat. Henry swung down and looked up at her. He meant to offer his hand and assist her down, but when he looked at her, he had the shock of his life.
She did indeed look fierce, but he hadn’t expected that look on her would be so alluring. Indeed, she looked beautiful. Henry wasn’t certain he’d ever seen a woman so beautiful. Without thinking, he reached up, put his hands on her waist, and lifted her down. He resisted the urge to pull her close so she would slide down his chest and so he might be that much closer to her mouth and to kissing her. Instead, he set her away from him and mumbled something about escorting her inside.
He tossed a penny to the boy tying the horse’s reins to a post. “Watch Gawain, will you? There are apples in the saddle pack. You can have one and give the other to Gawain.”
“Yes, my lord.”
A man with the air of an innkeeper stepped out of the Bear and Boar. Henry watched his eyes drift over Katie, pause, then move to Henry. The man’s eyes rounded.
“Y-Your Grace!” the innkeeper stammered.
“Good afternoon,” Henry said, reaching into his memory for the man’s name but not finding it. “How do you do?”
“Very well, Your Grace.” The innkeeper glanced at Katie, made a quick determination, and said, “Good day, my lady.”
“Good day,” she said, not giving her name. “We were hoping for a cup of tea.”
“Of course, my lady. Follow me.” He led them to a semi-private nook in the public room, which was populated with adozen people or so. “I do apologize for not offering you a private room,” he said. “It is currently occupied.” He glanced toward the back and a closed door. “One moment, and I will return with your tea. Do you, like Her Grace, prefer oolong?”
“Dear God, no. Anything but oolong. My lady, do you have a preference?”
