Chapter Twenty-One 

After an entire week on the road, Melinda couldn't wait until tonight. James promised they would stay at an inn. Whenever she felt like complaining, she instead pictured rush-hour traffic. It worked every time. All the riding had either made her backside numb or she was finally getting used to so many hours a day on the back of a horse.

The snow slowed their progress. How quickly the things you fantasized about changed. Melinda used to fantasize about soaking in the tub, spending an entire day engrossed in a book, playing hooky and going to a movie during a rainy day, lazing on the beach all weekend during the summertime. Now…her greatest fantasy was a roof over her head, a dry place to sleep, and a warm and filling dinner. They'd been eating the wild boar the men had killed for days, and she was looking forward to a change.

The road trip allowed she and James to continue getting to know each other better. He didn't say much, a man of few words. And thought before he spoke. Melinda found him a refreshing change. The man was insightful and interesting. Best of all, he really listened to her. It was a new experience. One she could easily get used to.

As they rode into the courtyard of the inn, Melinda's knees buckled as she dismounted from the horse. James was there to catch her.

"Steady, Melinda."

Over the past week he'd called her by her first name. She felt like they'd crossed some sort of line, getting closer to each other ever since he had saved her from drowning and tended her while she was so sick. You know you like him. Admit it. Melinda pushed the feelings away.

She had to focus on finding Lucy before she could even think about a relationship, especially with someone more than seven hundred years older than she in medieval England. Methinks the lady doth protest too much. In case you haven't noticed, you're already in a relationship.

Shut up, voice.

Okay, technically she was older than him at twenty-six. He was only twenty-two. She was never one for dating younger men. It was fun to tease James, tell him he was 704 years older than her. Anyway, she wasn't staying in the past. Nope, she'd find Lucy and they would go back to Holden Beach and Charlotte. Wouldn't they?

On the road it had been quiet. With nothing more than the sounds of horses and voices of the men, it was peaceful. They were usually alone as their party traveled through the countryside, only occasionally passing other travelers. Walking inside the inn was like turning the volume up so loud you could hear the song five cars away as the bass pounded through your chest. It was hot inside from all the bodies and roaring fire. Make that unwashed bodies. She wrinkled her nose and took a step back.

"Is aught amiss?"

She looked up at James.

"It's a bit overwhelming. Kind of a drastic change from the quiet of falling snow, and the horses and men."

"Your ears will become accustomed to the sounds. 'Tis not as loud as you believe."

"Welcome. 'Tis an honor to have such a fine lord in our presence." The innkeeper stood in front of them, wiping his hands on his apron. He was a rotund man with a big smile. Melinda liked him instantly.

James nodded. "We require rooms."

The innkeeper's face fell. He gestured to the room around him. "Apologies. Your men can sleep here in the main room. We've only the one room upstairs." He stood there looking miserable, wringing his hands. Melinda felt sorry for him.

"One room will do. My men and my lady require food and drink."

James led her to a large table in the back of the room. Wherever they went, she noticed he liked his back to the wall with a clear view of anyone coming or going. His men sat on the benches. Their party of seven seemed to tip the scales, filling the inn to overflowing.

Renly leaned across the table, pitching his voice low. "My lord, I do not care for the look of those men."

Melinda noticed Renly would call James by his given name when it was just the two of them. When there were more people around, he used the formal "my lord." From what she'd gathered, they'd been fighting together for many years.

Melinda watched James. He would've made a great spy. He didn't even turn his head. And she knew instantly he had taken the temperature of the room. She bet if she asked him, he could tell her about every single person. Intrigued, she put it to the test.

"The man at the table next to the window when we came in—what color is his tunic?"

Renly looked at her funny. James leaned back against the wall.

"His hair is the color of wheat, brown tunic, and he carries a knife in each boot. Though he is in his cups and would not throw straight." The disgust in his voice made she and Renly laugh.

"I totally missed the knives."

A serving wench bustled over, flirting with the men as she made her way through the big, open room. The inn had a stone floor, and Melinda noticed there were bones scattered around, as if some of the diners couldn't be bothered to leave them on the table and simply threw them on the floor. There were several dogs throughout the room. Most of the dogs were well behaved, if in need of a bath.

The large hearth boasted a roaring fire. Melinda could see a back room where most of the cooking must take place. The tables were wood, with long benches so you sat side by side with other diners.

Every time the door opened, a gust of cold air whooshed inside, making Melinda glad they were in the back of the room, even if it was a bit claustrophobic.

"Keep a few of the men on guard." James turned to her. "I will sleep outside your door tonight, ensure your safety."

There was no way she was letting him sleep on the cold stone floor outside her room, but she'd wait until they were upstairs to say anything. If he hadn't been injured, she still would've protested but might've given in. In her time, a man with his injuries would be in the hospital or at home resting, maybe going to physical therapy. She could tell by the way he moved that his injuries still bothered him. But this wasn't the place to have that discussion—there were too many ears around.

And Melinda was finding that medieval men and women were bigger gossips than any of the women she'd encountered at home.

The serving wench poured ale for the men. She and James drank wine. She knew he was drinking wine only because she was. Otherwise he drank ale with his men. They were a close-knit group. Trusted each other with their lives. She knew they would keep her safe.

The food finally came. Her stomach growled in anticipation. Dinner was roast chicken with bread and carrots. Melinda had never been so happy to have chicken, after all the wild boar.

They quit talking as everyone dug into the food. It was hot and tasty, and she ate until she thought her stomach would burst.

James bade Renly and the men goodnight. "I will see the lady to her room."

His captain nodded. "Goodnight, mistress."

Melinda waved to the men. She'd grown very fond of them in the short time she'd been here. They were overly solicitous of her, making sure she rested enough. One of them would say he needed to go the bathroom or rest for a moment, and she knew it was all for her benefit. She was grateful they paid attention to her needs.

"Goodnight, all. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

A couple of the men looked at her funny, and Melinda laughed. At home they said it jokingly, but here? She better inspect the bedding. The thought of bedbugs made her skin itch.

James opened the door. "Stay here a moment."

He went inside, looked at the room, checked the window, and then nodded to her to come in. The room was small but cozy. The bed looked large enough to sleep four people. She sat down, hearing the crunch. No featherbed or nice sheets here, but it was better than the cold ground and there didn't seem to be any bugs. There was a small ewer and basin in the room for washing, and a fireplace. She went to the fire, stretching her hands toward the warmth.

"I will sleep outside the door."

"I don't think that's a good idea." She held up a hand. "Hear me out. I know you don't like anyone to mention it, but you haven't fully recovered from your injuries. If you sleep on the cold stone floor, you'll be stiff in the morning."

James stood ramrod straight, scowling. "'Tis no different than sleeping on the ground at night."

"That may be true, but I saw you limping when you got off your horse. I won't be able to sleep if I know you're outside on the floor. Don't you want me to get a good night's sleep tonight? And what if those men downstairs cause problems when we leave in the morning? You might be a moment slower because you ache from sleeping on the floor."

"It would not be proper for me to sleep in the same room."

"We have slept side by side on the ground for over a week."

"That is different."

"No, it really isn't. Just pretend we're still outside. You sleep on your side of the bed, I'll sleep on mine."

"This is an argument I will not win, is it, lady?"

Melinda put her hands on her hips. "Nope. So just be a nice, chivalrous knight and give in now."

He made her a bow. "As the lady wishes."

Melinda went over to the bed and lifted up the blanket and sheet and examined them for the second time.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for bugs."

James looked like he was going to say something then shut his mouth. He went to the door and looked over his shoulder.

"I will have a word with the men then I'll be back. I'll send someone to help you undress."

And he walked out the door. Talk about leaving on a loaded word. Melinda hadn't thought about being undressed in the same bed as James.

On the road they'd all slept in their clothes and wrapped in cloaks to keep warm. But here? Their clothes were pretty grungy from traveling for a week. She really didn't want to sleep in them. Would he sleep in his shirt? What if he slept in the nude? Melinda fanned her face, thinking about all that muscled skin on display.