Page 49 of Feathers in the Wind
She nodded and he hunkered down in front of her and pulled off her gloves, laying them on the hearth. He took her icy fingers between his hands and gently chaffed them. She winced and pulled her hands away, shaking them to restore the circulation.
‘Now your boots.’
‘I can…’ she began, but he had already begun to pull off the mired riding boot. He looked up at her, holding one small, cold, damp foot cupped in his hand.
‘Your stockings are saturated. Your feet will never warm. Take them off and set them before the fire.’
A faint colour stained her cheeks but she bent and removed her stockings, affording him a tantalising glimpse of ankle and well-turned calf before she drew her bare feet up underneath her. He fetched a blanket from his bed and swaddled her in it before bellowing to a servant to fetch some warm soup.
‘What in God’s name brings you here in this weather?’ he chided.
‘I had to see you on an important matter. I received—’ She broke off as Adam’s servant entered bearing a tray with soup, bread and wine which he set down on the table.
Adam dismissed him cursorily and turned back to Perdita, pleased to see a little colour returning to her face.
‘Get this inside you.’
He handed her the bowl and spoon and she supped the soup, taking a couple of grateful gulps from the cup of wine he poured for her. Satisfied he had done all he could to make her comfortable, Adam flung himself into the chair opposite her. Resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, he leaned his face on his hand and regarded her thoughtfully.
‘Better?’
She managed a faint smile. ‘Much, thank you.’
‘I trust you’ve not come alone?’
She shook her head. ‘I left Ludovic at the inn and came straight here. They kept me waiting at the gate for simply ages before they let me in and I think that was only because they thought I was visiting you for entertainment.’ A small smile touched the corners of her lips.
Adam smiled in response. ‘There goes my reputation and yours.’ His brow furrowed. ‘So, what brings you here that is of such importance? It’s not bad news? Joan?’
Perdita shook her head. ‘No, everyone is well enough. And you, Adam? You have recovered?’
He shrugged. ‘My leg troubles me in this weather and those damned ribs ache in the cold but otherwise I’m fine.’
‘You sound like an old man.’
‘In truth there are times when I feel like one, Perdita .’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘There are too many young men about who make me feel like the old and grizzled veteran that I am.’
That small smile appeared again and a glint shone in her eye. ‘Rest assured, you do not look old and grizzled.’
‘Thank you for saying that, but I can see for myself that there are grey hairs at my temple. So if it is not bad news and you are not here merely to enquire after my health, I will ask you again, what has brought you to Warwick in this foul weather, Perdita?’
Any trace of humour slipped from her face. Her grave, brown eyes rested on his face. ‘You have Simon.’
‘Simon? What do you mean, I have Simon?’
Her eyes widened and the brown eyes flashed. ‘You’re no fool, Adam, as deputy governor of this castle, you must know who you have immured in your dungeons.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve been in London these last few weeks and did not return until yesterday.’
Perdita stood up and took two leather pouches from her skirts. They clinked as she laid them on the table on top of the sheaf of papers he had been considering.
‘There is your ransom. Please restore Simon to me.’
He rose to his feet and stood quite still, staring down at the two bags of coin. What sort of man did she think he was? In an angry gesture he swept the coins to the floor where they landed with a thunk.
He looked up at her, hurt and indignation seething in his chest. ‘God’s death, Perdita, what do you take me for?’
Her gaze met his, her brown eyes wide with anger and her colour high. ‘One of the foul fiends of Warwick Castle who hold men’s lives for ransom I think is how Colonel Compton put it.’
