Her father had once again managed to interfere with his daughter’s happiness and his own, Octavian thought with some resentment. Even if he and Syd were in a make-believe marriage, were they not entitled to a wedding night? This would have been their chance to warm up to each other. Of course, he was not going to claim her without her willingness. But there were so many other ways they could have enjoyed each other and experienced intimacy.
“Syd, don’t do this. Come to bed, please.” He had removed his boots and clothing, leaving only his trousers on. She had allowed him to untie the hooks and laces of her gown, and now wore only her shift.
He was glad she had disrobed instead of piling clothes on herself and buttoning them to her throat.
Was this not a hopeful sign?
“The proprietor shot Sir Henry,” Syd replied, sounding pained. “He did not give us the chance to ask what he had done with my father.”
“Sir Henry, when attackingyou, told you that your father would eventually make his way back to London. Were these not his exact words?”
She nodded. “How is that helpful? What did he mean? Did he kill my father? Is he dead? Is he injured and unable to move? Will he make his way home in a coffin? Is this what he meant byeventually?”
“I think Sir Henry would have told you outright if he had killed him, Syd. This is how his sordid mind worked, taking pleasure in another’s pain. He would not have spared you the anguish. In fact, it would have heightened his pleasure even as he…it makes me ill just thinking of what he might have done to you.”
He groaned and continued. “A search party is being put together as we speak, including hunting dogs. They’ll find yourprecious father if he is anywhere in the vicinity of Gretna Green. I’ve arranged payment for a full search and spared no expense. Your presence or mine will not make a difference. In fact, it will complicate it.”
“Because of the risk of encountering the Armstrongs? So you’ve mentioned several times already.”
“I only mention it because you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge its importance.”
She shook out her blanket. “Well, that is me. Isn’t it? Stubborn. Unyielding. Infuriating.”
He sighed. “Good night, Syd. Join me in bed if you change your mind.”
Not that she would.
The blasted girl was too stubborn by half.
Octavian was still awake an hour later, grinding his teeth and debating whether to put Syd in the bed and move himself onto the pallet, when he heard a stirring and suddenly felt her slip into bed beside him. “Syd?”
She sniffled.
He held out his arms to her.
She nestled in them without hesitation. “Do not make too much of this. There are mice scurrying on the floor.”
“All right.” He knew there were no mice. This establishment was meticulously clean. “Sweet dreams, love.”
She let out long, ragged breath. “Thank you, Octavian. I’m so sorry I got angry with you. I know you aren’t to blame for any of this. You’ve been far more generous than I or my father deserve. I just feel so frustrated and helpless. The strain has worn me down. But I could not fall asleep knowing I had been so terribly unfair to you. I’m glad you are awake because I need to apologize to you.” She told him again how sorry she was. “Will you let me stay in your arms?”
“Always, Syd.”
“I’m so tired,” she whispered. “And cold.”
“I know, love. I’ll keep you warm.” It was surprising how rapidly he fell asleep now that she was in his arms.
Never mind the possibility of sex.
That was not happening tonight short of a bolt of lightning from the heavens delivering a miracle.
But having Syd curled up beside him was enough to satisfy Octavian.
That she had come to him of her own accord meant everything, even if she blamed it on non-existent mice.
The inn was shrouded in mist by the time dawn broke, but Octavian knew the sun would come out soon and burn away the haze of gray. Syd was sleeping peacefully, her body wrapped around his so that it took him a while to ease out of her grasp and cross the small room to peer out the window.
He bumped his head as he stood by the window and emitted a muffled curse.
