As she neared the public house, she veered to the opposite side of the cobbled street to avoid being seen from its windows. Voices and laughter from within told her the place was crowded.
The door opened and a man exited.
She ducked her head and walked on, but it was too late. He’d spotted her.
“Becky?” Robb Tarvin asked, then jogged over to join her.
Her stomach sank. “Good evening. I am just on my way back to the abbey.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
She noticed the smell of ale on his breath and smoke on his clothes. “No need. I shall be all right.”
He fell into step beside her anyway, one hand tucked into his pocket. “You ought not walk alone at night. Some men might take that as an invitation. Or think you are not concerned about your reputation.”
“That is not the case, as you well know. I was simply visiting John and Rose and the hour grew late.”
“Either way, I’m heading to the abbey myself.”
She made do with a nod and quickened her pace as they turned into Elderberry Lane, wanting to keep the uncomfortable interlude as brief as possible.
“What’s the hurry?” he said, lengthening his stride.
A few possible replies played through her mind, but she discounted them, afraid they might be misconstrued.I am eager for my bed.OrI am cold.She settled for “I am tired.”
“Then slow down. You’re makingmetired.”
She moderated her pace ... a little.
They passed a few shuttered shops and cottages, many withdark windows, but not all. Which was worse, she wondered, to be seen at night walking alone or with a man?
Robb extracted his hand from his pocket, swinging both arms to keep up with her. She noticed a pristine bandage wrapped around his hand. “What happened to you?”
He glanced at it, as if surprised it was there. “Oh, em, nothing much. Blasted horse bit me.”
Realization flaring, she whirled on him. “Horse, my eye! I would wager anything that’s a dog bite.Youfollowed me into the wood, did you not? Trying to scare me?”
Lantern light from the village hall illuminated his roguish grin. “I was only hoping it would make you come running into my arms. But that dashed Ranger ran at me instead.”
“Serves you right.” She turned and strode on.
“Did you think the ghost of the abbess was following you? I heard from Brixton you saw it again.”
She knew he was teasing her but raised her chin. “That’s right. I did see someone in a black gown. But tonight I see only a mean-spirited scoundrel.”
“Aw, don’t take on so, Becky. I am sorry, all right? Only meant a bit of fun.”
“I did not appreciate the joke.”
They walked the rest of the way in grudging silence.
———
Frederick fastened a few buttons of his greatcoat against the evening’s chill and pulled his hat low on his head. He’d been walking the hotel grounds, gathering his thoughts. Now he paused and looked up at the building. Light twinkled from a window near the far end—Thomas’s room. The other upper-story windows remained dark. He identified Rebecca Lane’s room at the opposite end, with its small balcony overlooking the garden.
Was she safe in bed? Sleeping peacefully? Or perhaps she was tossing and turning, wrestling with doubts and questions, as he would no doubt do if he tried to fall asleep. Questions plagued him even now, walking alone in the brisk night lit by a quarter moon.
Was he doing the right thing by protecting her? Or was he opening himself up to betrayal and humiliation all over again?
