She pursed her lips, feeling quite awful that her father had left her with nothing. Octavian was not blaming her or looking down on her in any way, but this only made her feel worse.
“Syd, what have I said now? You are fretting again.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No, I was just giving thought to what I would need while in Scotland. Will we have to find private lodgings? The Admiralty must have expected you to stay in the local military barracks. Do they have separate lodgings for the officers?”
He nodded. “Yes, they do. But these are not meant to house their wives, too. I’ll settle you comfortably at one of the local inns and then we can figure out what to do next.”
“Will you leave me to myself at the inn?”
“And spend my nights on a mangy cot with a regiment of snoring Scots? No, I’d rather sleep next to your sweet body.” He kissed her on the nose before crossing to the door. “Latch it after me. I’ll knock twice sharply when I return. All right, Syd? Two quick knocks, then a pause, then two more quick knocks.”
Syd stared a moment at the door after latching it, her thoughts on Octavian and what he had just said about wanting to sleep with her.
That was nice.
She liked the idea of curling up next to his body, too.
However, she did not dwell on the thought, instead concentrating on washing the road dust off her skin and out of her hair. Since Octavian would bathe in the same water after her, she decided to use the ewer and basin to wash her hair first. She then lightly rinsed off her body using a wash cloth. Onlyafterward did she step into the bath. She hoped it would remain fairly clean for Octavian’s use.
Well, this was just her being fussy.
She doubted Octavian would think twice about sinking into the same water she had used since he was accustomed to far greater battlefield hardships.
She eased into the water with a sigh of relief, allowing the warmth to soak into her bones.
Oh, it felt so good.
But after a few minute of luxuriating, she realized that she was taking too long and hurried out of the tub to dry herself off. She had just donned her shift and was combing out her hair when she heard a sharp knock at the door. Three sharp raps. Hadn’t he said that he would knock twice?
What did it matter?
He must have forgotten.
“Just a moment.” She hastened to unlatch the door. “Come in, Octavian. I was–”
The breath rushed out of her.
Sir Henry pushed his way in and slammed the door shut behind him. “Did you think your farce of a wedding ceremony would be the end of it, my little dove? Your husband shall return to find you asoileddove.”
Syd backed away from this man with wild, gleaming eyes, hoping to reach the fire irons beside the hearth before he realized what she intended and stopped her. “Where’s my father?” she asked, glancing over his shoulder. “He would never allow you to harm me.”
“Your father is a fool. We parted ways outside of Gretna Green,” he said, advancing on her as a predator would advance on his prey.
She continued to back up as he stalked closer, trying not to exhibit fear. But her heart was in her throat and she was trembling. “Parted ways? How?”
By the menacing emphasis he’d placed on the wordsparted ways, she feared Sir Henry had injured her father. He must have been livid when seeing her wed to Octavian and had then taken his fury out on her father.
She would never forgive herself if that evil man injured him…or worse, killed him. “What have you done to my father?”
Sir Henry sneered. “Oh, he’ll make his way back to London one way or another…eventually. As for you, I’ve saved the best of my anger for you.”
He turned to fasten the door latch.
Syd took advantage of his momentary distraction to grab one of the fire irons. At the same time, she began to shout for help.
Would anyone hear her?
Were any of the adjoining rooms occupied? Would those occupants respond or merely ignore her?
