To Seduce a Sinner (Legend of the Four Soldiers #2)(55)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

She nodded. “I know.”

And that simple sentence filled him with a feeling he hadn’t felt in some time—happiness. He stared at her, so sure of his competence, so sure of his courage, and he thought, Please, Lord, let her never find out the truth.

SHE WISHED SHE could simply tell Vale that she didn’t want to sleep apart from him, Melisande thought later that night. She stood in the courtyard of another inn—this one fairly big—and watched as the hostlers unhitched the horses and Vale talked to the innkeeper. He was procuring a room for the night.

Her room.

It seemed the inn was nearly full, and there was only one room left, but instead of sharing it with her, Vale intended to sleep in the common room. Lord only knew what the innkeeper made of that. She sighed and looked to where a footman was leading Mouse on a leash. Or, rather, Mouse was leading the footman, straining forward on the leash. He dragged the poor man to a hitching post, lifted his leg against it, and began dragging to the next post.

“Ready, my sweet?”

Melisande looked up to find that while she had been puzzling out their marriage, Vale had finished his transaction with the innkeeper.

She nodded and took his arm. “Yes.”

“Mouse is going to wear out that footman’s arm,” Vale commented as they strode inside. “Do you know that they toss dice to see who will take him for his nightly walks?”

“The winner walks him?” she asked as they entered the inn’s main building.

“No, the loser,” he replied, then frowned.

A shout of boisterous laughter had come from the common room. The inn was ancient, wit ss aeigh huge blackened beams holding the low ceiling aloft. To the left was the big common room with battered round tables and a roaring fire, though it was the height of summer. Every table was crowded with travelers—mostly men—drinking ale and eating their suppers.

“Through here,” Vale said, and guided her to the right into a small back room. This was their private dining room, already laid with sturdy earthenware dishes and a loaf of what looked like fresh brown bread.

“Thank you,” Melisande murmured as he held a chair for her. She sat just as the footman brought in Mouse. The terrier immediately trotted over and stood against her for a pat. “And how are you, Sir Mouse? Did you have a nice constitutional?”

“Nearly got a rat, ’e did, my lady,” the footman said. “In the stables. Fast little dog.”

Melisande smiled at the terrier and ruffled his ears. “Well done.”

The innkeeper hurried in with a bottle of wine, a girl followed behind with a mutton stew, and all was chaos in the little dining room for a bit. Five minutes passed before Vale and she were alone again.

“Tomorrow,” he began to say, but was interrupted by a particularly loud yell from the common room.

Vale frowned at the door. They were sheltered in their private room, but the constant buzz of noise could still be heard.

He looked across the table at her, his brows drawn over his blue-green eyes. “You must lock the door and stay in your room tonight. I don’t like this crowd.”

Melisande nodded. She always locked the door if she could or stood a chair against it. Anyway, Vale was usually right in the room next door.

“Your room wasn’t locked last night.”

She wondered if he was remembering their heated lovemaking. “There wasn’t a lock on the door.”

“I’ll have one of the footmen sleep outside your room tonight.”

They finished the meal in companionable silence after that. It was well past ten by the time Melisande got to her room with Mouse. She found Suchlike yawning as she laid out a fresh chemise. The room was small but neat, with a bed, a table, and some chairs by the fireplace. Someone had even hung two tiny paintings of horses on the wall by the door.

“How was your dinner?” Melisande asked the maid. She went to the window and found her room overlooked the stable yard.

“It was very good, my lady,” Suchlike replied. “Although I’ve never liked mutton much.”

“No?” Melisande began picking at the laces of her gown.

“Let me do that, my lady,” Suchlike said, and bustled over. “No, give me a nice bit o’ beef if it’s good, and I’m quite happy. Now, Mr. Pynch declares that fish is his favorite thing to eat. Can you fancy that?”

“I suppose there are many people who like fish,” Melisande said diplomatically. She shrugged off the bodice.

y pight="0%" width="4%">Suchlike looked skeptical. “Yes, my lady. Mr. Pynch says it’s on account of him being born by the sea, liking fish, that is.”

“Mr. Pynch was born by the sea?”

“Yes, my lady. In Cornwall. Such a long ways away and him not even talking strange like.”

Melisande studied her lady’s maid as she removed the rest of her clothing. She would’ve thought the valet too old and dour for Suchlike, but the maid seemed to like chattering about him. She only hoped Mr. Pynch wasn’t trifling with her maid’s affections. She made a mental note to speak about the matter with Vale in the morning.

“There, my lady,” Suchlike exclaimed as she flung the chemise over Melisande’s head. “You look very pretty in that. The lace becomes you. Now, I’ve put a warming pan in the bed and brought up a pitcher of water. There’s some wine on the table and glasses, too, should you care for a drink before bed. Will you want your hair braided tonight?”

“No, it’s fine,” Melisande said. “I’ll brush it out myself. Thank you.”

The maid bobbed a curtsy and went to the door.

Melisande remembered something. “Oh, and Suchlike?”

“My lady?”

“Be sure that you sleep where our men can hear you. Lord Vale doesn’t like the crowd in the common room.”

“Mr. Pynch didn’t like their looks either,” the maid replied. “He said he’d keep a sharp eye on me tonight.”

Melisande’s heart warmed toward the stoic valet. At least he was protective of Suchlike. “I’m glad to hear it. Good night.”

“ ’Night, my lady. Sleep well.” And Suchlike left the room.

Melisande poured herself a little wine from the decanter on the table and took a sip. It certainly wasn’t of the quality that Vale kept in his cellars, but it was pleasantly tart. She took the pins from her hair and laid them neatly on the table.

She let down her hair and combed it out. Suddenly, there was a crash from below. She went to the door to listen, her brush still in her hand, but after a minute of raised voices, everything seemed to settle back down. Melisande finished brushing her hair, drank the wine in her glass, and climbed into bed.