Maybe Mrs. Davies knew something. She passed by with a tea tray.
“Mrs. Davies?”
“Yes, my lady?”
Willa felt a pang of guilt at being addressed in such a manner. She was only a miss. She didn't deserve the honorific. She never used to lie, and now she was up to her neck in them.
She swallowed. “Did you hear word of the coach beset by highwaymen? The groom was shot, and the coachman knocked unconscious. It happened three days ago.”
“You told me about it.”
“I know, but did the coach make it through? The other passengers and the coachman, how did they fare?”
Mrs. Davies frowned. “I don't recall. Travelers come through so swiftly.”
“I wish I could know what happened to the rest of those people,” Willa said. She peeked around the screen, and Ned was speaking to the innkeeper and some of the other patrons.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
“Yes, yes, I just… I remembered something, and I wanted to know that they were all right.”
“I can ask around if anyone else heard of the robbery.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
Willa watched Ned until he left the taproom. The sight of him set off so many emotions inside her, but she could not go to him. She could not risk him seeing her like this. Alone with a man. He’d want her to leave with him and go straight to her family. They might make her leave Knightly behind, and she just couldn't do that yet. Not without seeing his face. She wasn't ready to deal with them yet.
Guilt soured her stomach.
She carried the tea tray up the stairs and returned to her room, her thoughts buzzing in her head like bees. Knightly woke, sitting up as the tub and the pails were set by the fireplace.
Willa set the tea tray down on the table. Knightly ate a small meal of roast beef and vegetables and drank the willow bark tea. He still wasn't himself, and Willa worried. He drank the dose the doctor had left. Willa was about to move the screen near the tub, but he put up his hand to stop her.
“Don't bother. I know you need the modesty but I don't.”
She couldn't read his mood. “Very well,” she said.
“Forgive me. I got my hopes up this morning when I felt better, but then I felt so much worse after the doctor left and it angers me.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I’m very familiar with those emotions. I can't begin to understand what you're going through exactly, but I know what anger and frustration feel like.”
He slid off the bed and began to remove his shirt.
“Have you ever felt weak?” he asked.
“Only in my knees,” she whispered to herself as she removed their plates. He was too far from her to hear. He moved by the tub and put his hands on his breeches. Willa turned her back to him.
What a strange dance they did, courting the line of intimacy, so delicate and tenuous, easy to cross without noticing or arrogantly stepping over, chin held high. Damn the consequences.
She heard him remove his clothing, and then the splash as he entered the tub. She turned and he draped a towel over the top, shielding his lower half.
“Will you wash my back again?”
Her heart sped up. “Of course.”
