Page 38 of To Hunt a Ruby Remedy

I shrugged. “That’s up to her. Once the hunter is dealt with, I can fly her down here easily enough. But I’m afraid you will have to make do without her for the rest of today. If she is working to pay for a room, I’ll cover it.”

“She’s working to keep from fretting about you. You’d better not hurt that girl, Ranulf.”

“I’ve already had the lecture from my grandmother. And sister.” I wanted to be mad. My personal life was none of her business. But I couldn’t summon even a speck of anger, not when her concern was all for Scarlette.

“Good. Just remember that the hunter will be the least of your problems if you screw up this second chance.”

“Then you don’t think I’ve already messed up beyond forgiveness?”

“I think that girl would be willing to forgive you just about anything, which is why the rest of us are determined to watch out for her.”

“I wanted her safe and happy.”

“Then keep her safe and make her happy yourself. Now, go. Aaron can’t keep her distracted much longer.”

The innkeeper was right. Though the man was clearly trying to tell an engrossing story, Scarlette glanced around the room. She spotted me, and her lips parted.

We met in the middle of the room, and I didn’t care who was watching. I kissed her.

“Ranulf,” she moaned against my lips.

Our audience became an inconvenience. I grabbed her hand and led her to the back stairs. I dropped the apron I had unknotted during our kiss on a chair as we passed.

“Ranulf!” This time she said my name with a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

“Mistress Weslet said she doesn’t need you the rest of today.” We reached the top of the stairs. “Which is your room? We need to talk in private.”

She pointed at the second door and pulled a brass key from her pocket. “Just talk?”

I ran my knuckles down her cheek and jaw. “I hope not, but talk first.”

The room was small, little more than a bed with a wooden chest at the foot. There was a window letting in a breeze, a small fireplace—currently cold—and a table with a washbasin and oil lamp. No chairs.

Scarlette hesitantly sat on the bed, and I decided that joining her wasn’t wise. Not if I planned to stick with my decision to talk first.

I planted myself in front of the window. I couldn’t even pace without tripping over her feet. How to start? “How is your mother?”

I wanted to slap myself. That was not how I wanted to start this conversation. Maybe I should have stuck with kissing her. That got the point across rather well, after all.

Scarlette’s hands burrowed into her skirt. “She’s doing wonderful. The charm made her improve so much we realized just how bad things had gotten. I haven’t seen her so full of energy since I was a girl.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m no good at this.”

A wisp of a smile played over Scarlette’s lips. “What? Talking?”

“Exactly. I don’t even know where to start. I don’t want to mess this up, Scarlette.”

“Maybe you could start by telling me what, exactly, you don’t want to mess up?”

I gestured between us. “This. Whatever this is after I already messed up because I didn’t ask you to stay.”

“You wanted me to stay?”

“Want,” I corrected.

“Then why did you insist on taking me home?”

I ticked the reasons off on my fingers. “Your mother. My mother. My sister. Gideon.”

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