“It is at present. We will not linger another night, lest our trespass be discovered.” His tone turned rueful. “Although I do like that it has no dungeon.”
Evangeline could believe as much. She might have smiled at his jest, but his words made her fear that they might be discovered. “Surely someone must guess at your presence? There will be some smoke from the fires, or the horses might be heard.”
“There are no residences nearby,” Ramsay said, his tone both confident and reassuring. “You need not fear on this night, my lady. Most of the crofters followed the laird to his larger and finer keep, to the north. Harbottle is the residence of the Warden of the Middle Marches, so there is affluence there for all to share. These lands have lain empty for years.”
Harbottle. Evangeline vaguely recalled that keep being one of the neighbors of Dunhaven from her father’s instruction and her spirits fell. “How far have we come?”
Ramsay cast her a reassuring smile. “Far enough that we and the steeds might rest.” He set down the lantern, then braced his hands on his hips and surveyed the large empty space on this floor. “It must have been fine once,” he said with appreciation.
Evangeline surveyed it in her turn. This space, too, was shadowed, as if they had descended into a cellar instead of climbing to the second floor. It took her a moment to realize that there were rags and hides jammed into the narrow vertical slits in the walls intended for archers. She supposed that would keep any light from being visible beyond the walls of the keep. There was a straw pallet on the floor, perhaps left by some previous occupant though it looked to be both plump and clean. The ceiling was high overhead but the light of the candle illuminated paintings on the beams. At one end of the chamber was a large stone hearth, with a pot hung over glowing embers.
Evangeline could smell the hare stew in the pot. Her stomach grumbled, making her realize how long it had been since she had eaten. A third boy crouched beside the pot, stirring it at intervals, and Ramsay spoke quietly with him. They agreed upon some point, Ramsay ruffled the boy’s hair with affection, then the boy reached for a trio of carved wooden bowls.
Where had the boys come from? She could imagine that they found a kind of security with Ramsay, but this could not be a life that offered them good future prospects.
But what could she do? She was not in a position to intervene or offer sanctuary or employ.
Anna and Evangeline spread out the wet kirtles in the hope that they might dry during the night. Evangeline dared not reveal their hidden contents, lest Ramsay or his companions feel compelled to relieve her of those treasures.
“Surely we could stir the fire,” Evangeline said wistfully, still chilled beyond all.
Ramsay shook his head. “We dare not risk one for long. We try to cook during the day, when the smoke from the fire is less likely to be detected.”
His words reminded Evangeline that they lived as vagabonds and had no legitimate reason to occupy this keep, even as ruined as it was. How did he endure such an unsettled life? How had he survived five entire years, constantly moving and hiding? Evangeline could not have borne it, she was certain.
Ramsay smiled at the boy when Evangeline did not reply. “Hugues knows how best to manage such matters.” The boy beamed and bowed, a dark lock of hair falling over his brow. He was lanky and surprisingly tall, perhaps a little older than the two in the stables below. Anna eyed him with appreciation, but he smiled back at her.
Evangeline frowned, knowing she would have to speak to Ramsay about Hugues’ future at least.
But for the moment, there was stew. The gravy was thin, but the meat was tender. Not to mention that the stew was warm, though truly any fare might have satisfied in this moment. Both Anna and Evangeline ate heartily of it, though Ramsay consumed very little. He seemed to be content to watch her, which made Evangeline flush—and wonder at his intentions.
What would he ask of her in exchange for his intervention on this day? She was surprised to realize that she did not care, and that she was willing to surrender whatever he desired of her. Was it not said that when one’s life is saved by another, that one’s life is owed to that person? Evangeline would not protest Ramsay’s request, whatever it might prove to be.
When they had eaten their fill, Hugues gathered the bowls and spoons, then took them with the rest of the stew down to the floor below. Ramsay dispersed the last of the embers on the hearth then followed the boy. Evangeline heard him bolt the door at the foot of the stairs behind him before returning. The chamber seemed vast then and dark beyond all, Ramsay’s figure a shadow against the darkness. His silhouette reminded Evangeline that he was both larger and stronger than her, as well as a mystery, but she could not fear him even so.
Anna, however, was more reluctant to trust. She eased behind Evangeline and clutched her lady’s sleeve as the last of the embers winked out.
“There is a straw pallet against the wall,” Ramsay said, his voice seeming deeper in the darkness. “You will not be disturbed, by my command.”
“I thank you, Ramsay,” Evangeline said.
“Nay, my lady. I meant only the maid. I would invite you to come with me.”
There was a ring of authority in his tone and she heard his footsteps draw near. He struck a tinder and light flared, touching his features with gold where he crouched beside the hearth. He lit the lantern, then stood, his gaze finding hers with such surety that they might have been alone in all the world. Evangeline caught her breath when he strolled toward her, Anna’s presence forgotten. The confidence Ramsay exuded in this moment did not diminish his appeal in the least, nor did the small smile that lifted one corner of his mouth.
God in Heaven, he was irresistible. Evangeline watched him and yearned for a kiss, triumphant or otherwise, a caress that would remind her not only that she lived, but that there was so much to savor in life.
“We should remain together,” Evangeline said, Anna’s grip tight on her arm, though she did not wish to leave Ramsay for Anna’s company.
Ramsay shook his head and offered his free hand to her. “I would show you something, my lady. Let your maid remain here. She will be safe.” He handed Anna the lantern. “I trust you will guard against a fire.”
“Aye, sir.” Anna said and Ramsay looked at Evangeline again, that hand still outstretched. There was a gleam of challenge in his eyes and that beguiling smile, as if he would dare her to boldness.
She knew he expected her to hesitate, so she did not. How curious that her trust of him was sufficient to willingly be alone with him, but not to share the secret of her hidden riches. The man had treated her with honor and kindness, so she felt safe in his company, but his compulsion to steal could not be ignored.
And yet, she liked him all the same. ’Twas a mystery, to be sure.
She placed her hand in his, liking how the warm strength of his fingers closed over her own. His very touch dismissed any doubts she might have possessed and filled her with a surety that she had been brought to this moment with this man as surely as if Fate herself had intervened. She belonged with Ramsay, her hand within his. Evangeline was convinced of that in that moment, knew that she had admired no other suitor because Ramsay had not courted her, could even believe that her betrothal with Rufus had been all destined to bring her and Ramsay together.
