“Oh,” she breathed before, her legs crumpling beneath her, she sank to the road in a heap.
He was beside her in an instant, his hands on her arms. “Seraphina—”
But whatever he had been about to say was lost as an ear-piercing screeching started up, bundled within a great flutter of wings. And then Phineas attached himself to Iain’s head, talons gripping onto chunks of hair, wings flapping.
“Holy hell!” Iain shouted, trying in vain to extricate Phineas from his hair. But every time his hand got close toher pet, the bird snapped at his fingers. “Ow! Damn it all to ever-loving—”
Mind still spinning, Seraphina scrambled to her feet and hurried to Iain—no easy thing, given the man was stumbling about in the road.
“Phineas!” she called, reaching up for him. “Let Iain go. Phineas, no. You’re a very bad parrot. Come here now.”
Phineas finally seemed to hear her. Half hanging down the side of Iain’s head with wings outstretched, he stopped and cocked his head at her. Whistling low, he let go of his unwilling perch and climbed onto her outstretched hand.
“That’s it, darling,” she crooned as she helped her pet onto her shoulder. “Enough of that now.”
Iain stared at her in disbelief. “That’s all? You are nae going to punish the beast?”
She blinked. “Punish him? Of course not. He believed you were harming me. Besides, what would you have me do? I cannot very well give him a spanking.”
He gaped at her, motioning toward his tousled hair with an outraged hand. “He nearly took my eye.”
She was tempted to shrug off his concerns, or laugh, or roll her eyes. In her right frame of mind she would have done all three, with a sprinkling of condescension for flavor.
But she was suddenly and overwhelmingly tired beyond bearing as she gazed at him. Wrapping her arms about her middle, she could do naught but stare mutely at him.
He sighed, all the fight seeming to go out of him. “Regardless of what a menace your pet is”—he ran a hand through his hair to smooth down the worst of it—“we have more important things to discuss, it seems.”
Which was something she was not ready for. Dear God,to relive all that, but now with the knowledge that her father had lied to them both?
“Later,” she said. He frowned, opening his mouth, no doubt wanting to have it out here and now. But she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “I need time to process what you have revealed to me. Let us get through today and all that needs to be done. Tonight, after I have had time to come to terms with this news, we can talk.”
Never one to retreat when he was set on something, he scowled. In the end, however, he must have seen something in her to make him back down. He nodded his head, sharply.
“Very well,” he replied gruffly. “Tonight.”
Chapter 13
Once again Iain found himself unable to keep his gaze away from the door connecting his room to Seraphina’s. Though this time the reason for his focus was much worse than imagining her naked in her bath.
Sighing heavily, he gripped tighter to the arms of the chair he sat in. Or, rather, perched on. There was no lounging back in comfort for him just then. With his entire body equal parts anxious for and dreading the discussion that was to come, he could not relax even a bit.
Their entire focus throughout that long day had been directed to seeing that the carriage was mended and the horses cared for and his men seen after. And thank God for the distraction of it all. He’d needed to concentrate on something besides the devastating truths they’d unearthed during their argument. Even so, he felt equal parts eagerness and dread about the coming conversation with her, one that would finally provide them with the answers both of them needed.
Now, knowing the time for talk was nearly upon him, he felt as if he would vibrate out of his skin. His ears strained for every hint of sound. Was she waiting for him to go to her? Should he rise and knock on the connecting door?
Finally, unable to take the uncertainty a moment longer, he pushed to his feet and strode to the door. Just as his hand raised to rap on the heavy panel, however, a tentative knock sounded.
His heart stuttered in his chest, his body freezing up. Before he could recover, a soft voice sounded, muffled through the wood.
“Iain?”
In a moment his hand was on the latch, pulling the door wide. And there stood Seraphina. He sucked in his breath at the sight of her. Why? It was not as if they had not seen one another just an hour ago. She was the same woman he had been traveling with these past two days, after all. She was even still wearing the same clothes.
Yet something momentous had shifted in him where she was concerned. She was not the woman he had been manipulated to see her as. That false Seraphina had been burned down to a cinder, everything he had believed and held to be true burning with her, and he was only now beginning to see her for who she truly was.
She shifted from foot to foot in front of him, glancing at the room behind him, his shoulder, his neck, basically anywhere but his face. “May I come in?” she asked, her voice as hesitant as he had ever heard it.
At once he realized he had just been standing there like an imbecile, not speaking, barring her way. His face flushing hot, he quickly stepped back, motioning with one arm for her to enter. She did, moving past him swiftly, the faintscent of lavender drifting after her like a veil and tickling his senses.
