Page 83 of His Betrothed
When she dropped her hood to speak with the owner,Spencer swiftly inhaled, then smothered a curse behind his tankard of ale.
Roselyn.
For just a moment a shot of pleasure moved through him, and he remembered her warm and naked in his arms, giggling against his chest like a woman who’d never known sorrow.
He shook his head to clear it. She could be nothing but a distraction to him now. He had tried to keep her safe, and she’d upset everythingby following him. Surely she had brought along some of the Heywoods for protection.
But as she continued to talk with the innkeeper, no one else entered, and Spencer’s anger simmered at an agitated pace.
She had followed him—alone? She was about to stay in this disreputable inn—alone? Didn’t she realize what could happen to a woman on the road?
He took another swig of ale and glared at herfrom beneath lowered brows.
She carried only a small saddlebag with her, held against her side. The cloak dwarfed her, making her seem ridiculously small and fragile. She waited patiently at the bar, ignoring the boisterous men who called to her from various scattered tables in the tavern.
When the innkeeper returned Spencer couldn’t hear what he said, but he saw Roselyn’s shoulders slump momentarilybefore she straightened in obvious defiance. Perhaps there were no rooms to be had. What would she have done if he’d not been here? Slept out with her horse—or wandered the town alone looking for a place to stay? She deserved to see what a foolish mistake she’d made by following him.
So he remained quiet, keeping to the shadows. The innkeeper pointed to an empty table near the bar, and she primlyseated herself,keeping her cloak about her like a shield between her and the men who leaned to get a better view of her.
She was the most obviously proper woman there, and stood out like the noblewoman she was, even in the plainest of garments. Her light brown hair was pulled tight beneath a plain white cap, but a few tendrils had fallen against her neck and one cheek, softening the severityshe wore as protection. When the innkeeper wiped beer puddles from her table she gave him a grateful smile, and it was as if the room lit up with a hundred candles.
Spencer winced, because he was not the only one to notice. The remarks began soon enough.
“Come eat wit’ me, miss. I be a lonely man.”
“Surely ye need a chap to join ye.”
“The seats all seem to be taken but at your table, miss.”
Spencer sat up straighter, because the last voice sounded a bit too proper to be a Southampton sailor. The gentleman wore an expensive short cloak, and as he doffed his hat to Roselyn, his teeth gleamed in a knowing smile.
She didn’t reciprocate. “I appreciate your offer, sir, but I prefer to eat alone.”
There were hoots and jeers from the leering sailors, but what made Spencer tense was thefading smile on the gentleman’s cold face.
Spencer slammed his tankard down on his table and got to his feet, with an appropriate sway for balance. “By the saints, woman,” he roared, “ye didn’t have to follow me!”
Roselyn’s wide-eyed gaze fixed on him in shock as the tavern erupted with laughter. The gentleman remained at her side.
Spencer grabbed his cane and walked towards them. “I toldye I’d find a better place to stay than that roomin’ house.”
She inclined her head. “You were taking too long.”
With a shrug, the gentleman turned toward the bar, and Spencer felt a bit of his tension ebb. Though he was pleasantly surprised at how well she’d taken up his story, it was still easy to give her a scowl.
“Well, I already got the room,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“But I just ordered mymeal—”
“The innkeeper will send it up.” He took her elbow and practically pulled her out of the chair. He glanced at the innkeeper, who gave him a nod and eyed him with sympathy.
Spencer said nothing as he dragged her up to his garret room on the third floor, with the sloping roof on one side and a tiny fireplace on the other. He slammed the door, then turned Roselyn around and put her backagainst it.
She stared up at him, her eyes as gray as a cloudy day at sea. He knew he should yell at her, demand to know why she’d risked her life to follow him.
But instead he pressed her against the door and kissed her.
