“It must be Shaw. Did he say where he was going next?”
“To ask questions in Bonchurch, farther south on the island.”
“I was worried my broken leg would enable him to catch us, but there’s still time—perhaps even a day or two,” he said, swiftly coming to his feet. “I was going to send you back to Wight for your safety, but that would put you right into his path. We have to go—tonight.”
Chapter 24
“Leave?” Roselyn protested. “But it’s late! Surely dawn would be soon enough—”
“We can’t risk it,” he said, picking up her cloak and bundling it around her shoulders.
She felt like a little girl as he lifted her chin to attach the clasp.
“Here’s your saddlebag,” he said, handing the pack to her so quickly she almost dropped it. “I had not yet unpacked, so I’m ready.”
She stared at the scabbard he strapped about his waist, the hilt gleaming dully in the candlelight.
“Spencer,” she said, striving for a calm voice, “you need your rest. Surely your leg—”
“I’ve been resting since I arrived in Southampton this morn. I’ll be fine, but will you?”
“You don’t mind taking me with you?”
“I’ll not send you back into the path of Shaw,” he said grimly, grabbing her hand to drag her while he limped down the stairs with his cane. “We need to put as much distance between us and him as possible. I only hope the horses are up to it.”
As they reached the taproom, he slowed to a more moderate pace and motioned Roselyn before him.
“Just follow my lead,” he whispered. As they entered the crowded room, he raised his voice. “But I tell ye, wife, ’tis a good chamber!”
She fixed a suitable frown on her face. “It’s not large enough.”
“But they don’t ’ave more,” he said, looking at the innkeeper, “do ye, sir?”
The man with the large apron over his belly shook his head. “That’s the last.”
“Well, it won’t do,” she said firmly. “Give the man the key. And I’ll not be needing supper, either.”
Grumbling, Spencer did as she asked.
Outside, his good-natured frown vanished, and he walked as fast as he could to the stables. Only when their horses were saddled and they were on the road did he seem to relax.
The night was dark and overcast with the threat of rain in the air, which made Roselyn sigh in resignation. The horses picked their way through the narrow, garbage-strewn streets of Southampton, and the occasional late night reveler stumbled out of their way.
Finally the road widened, and the trees encroached to the edges, and they left behind the comforting lights. Spencer slowed his horse until she caught up and rode beside him.
She sighed again. “I don’t understand why we could not at least sleep for a few hours.”
“If we’d stayed at the inn, I would not have given you the opportunity to sleep,” he said in a low voice.
Even in the darkness, she felt smoldered by his glance, and a warm blush stole across her cheeks. She should be angry that he thought he could so easily seduce her again; instead she imagined that dark garret room beneath the eaves, a narrow bed, and the two of them entwined on it.
“But Rose, we also don’t know how long Shaw kept looking for me on the island,” he continued in a more sober voice. “If he reaches London first and tells the court his lies, how will they know whom to believe? ’Tis my word against his—and what if he’s somehow concocted convincing proof? The sooner we get to London, the sooner I can have you safe in my home. My brother will take care of you while I see the queen.”
“We’ll need sleep at some point,” she said with exasperation.
“Yes, and now Shaw can’t be certain which road we’ll take. I promise we’ll make an early stop in the evening.”
“You meantomorrowevening?”
