Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

T he next day, she got back after training with her warrior women to find ominous news waiting for her in the dining room of the tavern — Hamish, his face grim and a letter in his hand that bore the familiar seal of Weatherby Manor. She narrowed her eyes at it and hissed like an angry cat, winning a weak chuckle from Hamish but not much more. Serious news, then.

“What’s Weatherby got to say?”

“It’s not from Weatherby, I’m afraid. It’s from Baldric. He says Taffington’s likely to be visiting the village again before long — most likely tonight, if not even earlier.”

She felt her heart sink into her shoes. “What? Why now?” She realized she’d been relying on Taffington’s cowardice to keep him away at least a little longer — but from the look on Hamish’s face, that particular streak of luck had run out. “Guess he’s tired of licking his wounds, huh?”

“Baldric said he’s discovered the manor’s secret passages and started sneaking around,” he said with a shake of his head. “More to the point, his guard is back in town — a nasty piece of work, from what I’ve heard.”

She shuddered. The women she’d been training had told more than a few stories about Sir Anthony Gaunt. He was a rangy, violent man, a match for Sir Baldric in skill with a blade, but bearing none of the former’s forbearance or wisdom. He’d been visiting back home in London when Taffington had attacked the barmaid and been beaten up by the locals — but he was back now.

“I guess that’s why he’s heading out again,” she said with a grimace. “I guess he’s suddenly a big, brave guy with a trained killer behind him. I should warn the girls,” she said heavily, glancing up at the bar to see if Maggie had arrived for her shift yet.

Hamish cleared his throat, and she looked back at him, suddenly struck by the worried look on his face. He looked almost as aggrieved as he had the night before, in whatever awful dream she’d eased him out of… something she hadn’t mentioned to him, feeling a little embarrassed that she’d crept into his room so late at night. If he had any memory of the encounter, he hadn’t mentioned it either.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about Taffington coming to town,” he said, gesturing with the letter he still held clenched in his fist. “For personal reasons, as well as diplomatic ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“If he comes anywhere near you, I don’t think I can trust myself to behave like a diplomat,” he said simply, spreading his hands. “I’ll wring his neck and start a war, Amelia.”

She moved closer to him, a little surprised by the force of his words. “I can take care of myself, you know,” she told him, tilting her head slightly. “You don’t need to do any neck-wringing on my account. You stick to diplomacy, and I’ll stick to fist-fighting. Yeah?” She lifted her hands into a half-joking fighting stance — then was shocked to feel his arms close around her, pulling her into a tight embrace that she was too surprised to resist, even if she’d wanted to. His body felt so warm and solid against hers… she melted against him, a little embarrassed by how good it felt to hold him like this.

“I know you aren’t Amy/” She heard his voice, a little muffled against her hair. “But I still can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.”

“Hey,” she said softly, pulling back to seek his eyes. “It’s okay. I’m going to be okay. Promise.”

He smiled at that — and then, before she could stop herself, as though it was something she’d done a thousand times before, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes and kissed him squarely on the lips. It was a long, lingering kiss, possibly the most enjoyable of her life, and the look of delighted shock on his face when she finally pulled away made it all the sweeter. Utterly at a loss for what to say, she opted instead for a bright smile and a weird little shrug — then she turned on her heel and walked out of the tavern, certain she was going to embarrass herself if she stayed for another second.

Let that old creep come to the village, she thought dizzily. Right now, she felt like she could fight a thousand men his size without even breaking a sweat.

There was no sign of Taffington that afternoon, but Amelia made sure to spread the word that he was likely to be visiting again soon. The women she’d been training with were understandably worried, but there was a steely glint of resolve in their eyes that told her that they weren’t going to be as easy to victimize as Taffington might expect. It felt good, knowing she’d shared a little of her strength and skill with these women. In the end, it was almost an anticlimax when there was no sign of Taffington for the rest of the evening. She and Hamish spent the evening in the tavern, both of them tense with expectation, but when Maggie called last drinks and gave them both a little shrug, they had to admit that their quarry wasn’t coming.

“It’s good news, really,” Hamish said, clearly struggling to believe that.

“It won’t be long,” she said with a sigh. “That creep won’t stay away forever, not now he’s got his bodyguard to lean on. I’m going to teach the girls how to disarm someone holding them at knifepoint tomorrow, just in case.”

“Good thinking,” Hamish said. Then he paused. “Speaking of staying safe… I have a suggestion, but I want to stress that it’s only a suggestion. I won’t push the matter, if it makes you feel at all uncomfortable.”

“Try me.” Were they flirting? Was this flirting? She hadn’t stopped thinking about the kiss all day, but neither of them had mentioned it, and she was beginning to wonder whether she genuinely might have imagined it.

“I was thinking it might be safer for us to share a room.”

She raised an eyebrow, doing her best to hide the rush of absolute delight that that suggestion instilled in her. “Safer, yes,” she agreed slowly. “Not to mention more — cost effective.”

A faint flicker of confusion on his face quickly gave way to amusement — then a solemn little nod. “Indeed. We’ll be saving the Keep some much-needed coin.”

“Halving our costs, in fact.” That was true, wasn’t it, strictly speaking? Half of nothing might have also been nothing, but they were still technically halving the cost of their free accommodation… grinning, she followed Hamish up the stairs, hoping that the thudding of her heart against her ribcage wasn’t quite as loud as it felt.

The door had barely clicked shut behind them before he was on top of her, and Amelia quickly put aside any concern she’d had that the spark between them that morning had been imagined. This kiss was deeper, fiercer, unfettered by hesitation or the frozen shock of that morning — this was a man who’d been thinking about kissing her all day, all week, all month. She didn’t even mind when he flattened her against the closed door behind her, didn’t mind at all being handled a little roughly as he reached around to attack the lacing on her dress with a surprisingly deft hand that got the tricky garment unlaced faster than she’d ever managed to. She returned the favor as swiftly as she could, tugging at his shirt until she grew too impatient and simply yanked the garment off him and made Hamish laugh against her lips before reclaiming them in a ferocious kiss.

At some point, they fell onto the bed together, and just as quickly, the rest of their clothes joined the growing pile on the floor behind them, but Amelia couldn’t bring herself to care about any of that. All she was focused on was the man in her arms, the feeling of his hot skin beneath her hands, the demanding, possessive, delicious way he held her, caressed her, at once brand new and oddly familiar. Her pulse was climbing faster than she’d thought possible, her body already demanding more of him — his touch, his kiss, the hard press of his manhood against her thigh, she wanted all of it. How did he seem to know exactly where to touch her to get the fire started? How did he know just which part of her throat was the most sensitive, just which part of the flesh on her ribcage would make her gasp and whimper when he caressed it? How did he know exactly when to hold back and tease her, and exactly when to give her what she was wordlessly demanding? When he finally held her close and slid himself to the hilt inside her, she felt like she might actually pass out. The sensation was so good, so right, so overwhelmingly perfect. The way his body fit into hers was nothing less than supernatural, and she hoped that the desperate, demanding way she was kissing him would go some way to telling him what words seemed suddenly inadequate to convey.

Much later, when the two of them had exhausted themselves for the time being, but remained too stubborn to go to sleep just yet, she stirred in his arms. He’d been slowly but methodically stroking her tangled hair back from her sweaty cheeks, restoring order where he’d brought chaos, but he withdrew his fingertips carefully when she looked up at him, always attentive to the slightest indication she might want him to stop what he was doing.

“You’re too good at this,” she informed him, amused by how hoarse her voice sounded. It had been quite some time, she realized, since she’d used her voice for anything but moaning and gasping.

“Is that so?”

God, and she’d thought that smile of his was dazzling before. Now, in the candlelight, his skin still damp from the sweat of their lovemaking… she had to fight back the urge to pull him into her arms again.

“Is it…” She took a breath. “Is this weird, for you?” Because of Amy, she wanted to say. Because of your wife… but she could tell from the way his expression had shifted that he knew what she was getting at.

“No,” he said, after a silence that had stretched long enough to worry her. “I don’t think so, no. Like I said, Amelia — you may look like her, but you’re two very different women.” He tilted his head. “Is it strange for you?”

No stranger than everything else that’s been happening, she thought, fighting back the strange urge to laugh. “It’s a little strange that you’re better in bed than anyone I’ve ever been with,” she said softly, enjoying the pleased smile that spread across his face. “Seriously. I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten me there the first time. People usually need practice.”

“Well, I’m not opposed to a bit of practice.”

She laughed, feeling him moving to take her in his arms, already aware of her body responding to him. Something told her that the two of them weren’t going to be getting much sleep tonight… and though she knew, distantly, that they had major worries on their plate still, right now, she simply couldn’t bring herself to think about anything but him.