Page 35 of Stay with Me

“Then she will be soon.”

Nicholas glanced down at her, and his eyes held an apology.

She bit back a smile, the unraveling of their predicament growing more ludicrous by the second.

“Now, get dressed.” The severe man glanced over his shoulder warily. “We need to be on our way before Lord Worth’s men return.” He pulled back from the entrance and barked several orders to the others outside to give Nicholas a chance to get decent.

Nicholas shook his head and pushed away from her. Even then, in the tight space, the process of sitting up was tricky without touching each other.

“I am heartily sorry, Sybil,” he whispered as he combed his fingers through his loose hair and began to tie it back with the leather strip. Every muscle in his chest and arms rippled as he did so. The dark scruff on his face was thicker, making him more gorgeous in the morning light—so much that her stomach flipped end over end.

She attempted to work her fingers through her own hair, but the strands were still damp and tangled. She wound it into a knot and secured it in place with her hair tie, hoping she could find a brush at some point. Were brushes invented yet? Or were there only combs?

Nicholas finished with his hair. “I vow, I shall do my best to repair your reputation.”

“I’m not worried about it.” She supposed in the Middle Ages, she would be seen as a loose woman for having spent the night with Nicholas. But it didn’t matter what people thought when she and Nicholas knew the truth.

She reached for her coat, but he shook his head. “Ralph,” he said to the severe man who had positioned himself with his back facing the cave opening, clearly guarding their privacy. “Will you please find a cloak for Sybil?”

The man shouted out a question to the others, and an instant later, he tossed two thick gray garments into the cavern.

Nicholas handed one to her. “Put this on.”

She didn’t argue with him, especially since her coat was still damp. As he wrapped a cloak around his shoulders, she followed his lead, the wool scratchy and containing a smoky scent. But it was heavy and warm. And after being chilled for the past hours, the covering was blessedly welcome.

She followed Nicholas out of the cave into the brush alongside the river and was surprised to see at least a dozen men with bows hanging from their shoulders and quivers at their belts. Two of them were now cloakless, but the rest wore matching gray cloaks with their hoods up. Except for the man Nicholas had addressed as Father Fritz. He was attired in a long robe, and a leather belt circled his rotund waist.

All eyes settled upon her, and she did her best to keep a casual and calm stance. In her profession, she was used to being the only woman in a group of men. But being the lone woman here unsettled her. When Nicholas didn’t release her hand, she was more relieved than she wanted to admit.

The commander of the group—Ralph—stared at her as openly as the other men. But instead of curiosity, his narrowed eyes held suspicion. He was an unusually tall man—close to twometers—and slender and wiry. His face was marred by several large scars and a misshapen nose. With his blond hair threaded with white, she guessed he was in his midlife. Like the others, he had a bow hanging over his shoulder.

The bows were longer than usual, almost as tall as the men themselves. Although she didn’t know much about bows and arrows, she suspected they were using longbows.

Nicholas straightened, pulling himself up almost regally. She was fascinated that she could so easily see the differences in their social classes just from the way the men held themselves. Nicholas was nobly born. And Ralph stood with a bearing of someone who had rank. But the rest were common folk with rougher skin and stooped shoulders of men accustomed to hard work.

“We received news of your capture only yesterday.” Ralph was the first to speak. “When we got word that Lord Worth’s men were in the forest, we suspected you’d escaped.”

“Sybil is the one who set me free.” Nicholas caught her gaze, his eyes filled with gratefulness.

Ralph watched Nicholas an extra second before turning his attention upon her. “Thank you.”

She nodded.

His silent questions filled the air. Who was she? Where was she from? And how did she know Nicholas enough to come to his rescue?

She sensed in this man a keenness that matched her own and guessed it wouldn’t take him too long to piece together the details and realize there was more to her story. He was obviously a friend of Nicholas’s, but that didn’t mean he would accept her.

Even now, his eyes turned to the sky and narrowed upon a flock of birds rising into the air. “We must go now.”

Father Fritz was halfway up into the saddle of one of two horses, and Ralph nodded at the other. “Take my mount.”

Nicholas shook his head.

Ralph’s gaze slid to Nicholas’s now-covered shoulders. “You are badly injured.”

“Just my back. Not my feet.”

“Then you would have one of the other men ride with your betrothed?”