“No.”
“Is it cold? I can add another log to the fire. I don't want you to be chilled. The water will not be warm.”
He turned to face her. She lifted the shirt over his head. It snagged on the helmet, and she gently wrestled it free.
He exhaled. “I can't wait to be rid of this thing.”
“Me too,” she replied. More than he might know, she wanted a face to match to the man who had slipped under her guard without even trying. He tried to lift the face shield higher, but it was stuck. The dent wouldn't allow it to go any further.
“I'm sorry if I've been taciturn.”
“There's no need to apologize. You've been through so much.”
“So have you and you don't deserve to bear my attitude too.”
“I'm not bearing anything. Yes, this whole situation might be strange and uncomfortable. I desperately wish I had a change of stockings”—she swallowed—“but I'm quite content at the moment.”
He was silent, and she wasn't sure what the silence meant. Was he thinking of something to say? Had she shocked him? Embarrassed him?
“This isn’t right,” he said.
Her heart sunk.
“You shouldn't… We shouldn't—we’re not truly married.”
“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.
“No. That's the problem. I can't help but fear that…”
“What? Just say it.”
“What if I’m married? These are the things I've been thinking about. I can't make any promises to you if I don't know who I am.”
Her heart stuttered to a halt. Promises? Was he thinking they should marry after this? Her heart kicked into an exhilarating gallop. She didn’t know what the future held for them, but he’d been thinking marriage. Just like her. Propriety demanded marriage, but what she wanted to know was what was in his heart.
“I haven't asked you for promises, except to live. I gladly demand that.”
“We've been alone together. This is our third night sharing a room. We’ve told them we’re husband and wife.”
“I know. These things have crossed my mind too.”
“Now I'm undressing in front of you.”
“You’re fighting for your life,” she said. “There is no one else but me to help you.”
He reached out and touched her hand. “It doesn't matter if I was bleeding on the floor. If the situation were different, if I knew who I was…”
“It wouldn’t change anything. You’re still hurt, and we need each other. For now, that’s enough for me. They don’t ever have to know who we really are. Tonight, I only care about you and getting you better, so we can make it back to London. We’ve made it this far by staying together. We’re in this together.”
He swallowed. “Fine. But I'm going to keep a towel over my waist.”
Willa blushed. “That makes sense,” she said. She hoped he couldn’t hear the disappointment in her voice.
What kind of woman was she, lusting after a man so vulnerable? She stomped her feelings down and handed him a towel. This time she turned her back to him while he removed his breeches.
“I can see you're blushing, you know,” he said with a chuckle.
“Of course I’m blushing.”
