He pointed through the trees. “Follow the sounds to the water. I have nothing with which to heat the water. My apologies.”
The smile on her face was like the sun coming out in summer, warming him after the long winter.
“I’m just grateful for the soap. I’ll make do.” She walked through the trees, and a moment later he heard her yelp.
“Oh my gosh, that’s cold. You weren’t kidding, were you?”
Christian chuckled. “Wash, and I will prepare our meal. There isn’t much, though I have plenty to drink. Would you prefer wine, ale, or water?”
“In the middle of the day?” she called out. He heard splashing. “I guess since we’re staying in character, I’ll take ale. I always did enjoy a good beer.”
He had a small fire going. Normally he would not build one when he traveled alone, but she was cold, and unused to being outdoors. So he would risk it.
The smell of roses preceded her. “Sit and warm yourself.” He motioned to a log he had pulled close to the fire. Her hair was wet and twisted into a long braid. “Did you go in?” He pointed to her hair.
“I wanted to but it was freezing. So I leaned back and dunked my head under.” She handed him the soap and damp cloth. “I used the cloth to wash. I didn’t know where you wanted me to put it.”
He draped it over a branch to dry by the fire. “You’re shivering.” He wrapped his cloak around her then selected the choicest morsels.
“You hum a lot.”
“Do I?” Christian blinked at her. “So do you.”
He handed her the flask. Ashley held it up, touching the leather, then shrugged and took a sniff.
“Bottoms up.” She took a deep drink and licked her lips. A drop of ale ran down the corner of her mouth, and Christian reached out with his thumb to wipe it away. She went still and he snatched his hand back.
They ate in silence as if they had eaten many meals together.
Christian was so distracted seeing to her needs he missed thesound until ’twas too late. He caught movement from the corner of his eye and cringed. In all his years he had never been taken unawares. If his brothers found out, he would never hear the end of it. Five men surrounded them. He stared at Ashley, willing her to understand.
“Do not say a word.”
She nodded, the bread in her hand forgotten, her eyes huge as she watched the men.
“Give us everything you have and we’ll let you live.” The leader of the little band brandished a slightly bent sword.
Christian studied every face, marking the men. A blade poked him in the side. “You heard him. Hand over your gold.”
Another man nodded to Ashley. “You too, lass. Give us the odd bracelet. I sees gold on the edges.”
She swallowed, but handed them the bracelet and necklace she was wearing. As she leaned forward to hand it to them, something fell out of her pocket, and Christian cringed.
One of the men snatched it, held it up, then scratched his head, his face full of confusion. They all gathered around to look, and he wondered what future trinket she had brought with her.
“What do they have?”
“My lipstick,” she whispered.
One of the men touched the red stick. His finger came away red.
“Witch. She is in league with Satan.”
This was bad. Christian had heard enough times how careful Charlotte had said they all must be not to change history. And what would happen if someone ever found an object from the future.
“What do you do with the red stick?” he whispered.
“Seriously? This is taking the whole acting thing a bit far, isn’t it?” But she sighed and said, “It goes on your lips to make them more red. You know, to make women more attractive to men.”
