“Even should someone inquire of the woman about me, and even should she call me to mind with suspicion, they would not expect you or me to bebehindthe village.” She withdrew her hand and tossed him an apple with a grin. He caught it, and the sweet tangy smell of the fruit caused his mouth to water, and a wave of nausea to wash over him. He broke into a sweat.
She continued, “‘Tis early yet—look at the light. They’ll assume we’ve moved through already, as I made it a point to confirm the direction of London before I left. Once away from her, I simply circled the village and”—she spread her arms with a sly smile—“here I am once more. Safe and sound and bearing gifts.”
He took a bite of the apple, half of it disappearing into his mouth. He chewed and forced the hard chunks of food down his constricted throat, giving himself time to think, while she produced yet another of the precious fruits and held it up with a triumphant “hah!” before the monkey. Layla snatched it, jumping up and down with excitement, before scampering to the back of the cave-like shelter and hunkering down to eat.
She could be right. It was unlikely that anyone suspecting Alys would think her to still be in the area. He would not praise her, however.
He gestured to her roughly with the half eaten apple. “‘Twas still foolish.” I was worried when I couldn’t find you, he said, but only to himself.
Alys held up her forefinger. “Or brilliant.” She began digging through the bundle again, her blond hair a snarl of leaves and dirt. The fluffy tangles quivered with her every movement, and the sight of her, now that the imminent danger was past, was nearly enough to force a grin to Piers’s mouth.
She did look quite mad. Nothing like a lady of one of the richest houses in England. He polished off the apple, core and all, in one bite. Perhaps it was only food that his body needed. His stomach did feel more settled now.
Alys gasped, and then looked up at him suddenly. “Could we have a fire tonight, Piers?”
He shook his head. “We’re too close to the road.”
She huffed and her fists jerked at the bundle on her lap in frustration. “Please? Perhaps later? Once it’s fully dark?”
He frowned “I don’t know. You’ve already taken enough risks for one day, I’d wager.” He paused. “Why?”
“Well, because I’m cold, for one—I’ve been cold fordays,and I’m sick of it.Andyou’re not the only one in need of washing up.Andwe have apples”—she reached into the bag then withdrew her hands one at a time—“andan onion. And … apig!”
Piers felt his eyebrows raise. In her hands were a small, blocky onion and a hunk of striped, cured sidemeat. In that instant, Piers could taste the salty pork on his tongue, the tang of the onion in the juice of the fruit. His stomach clenched. It was a feast she presented to him.
She winked at him. “Never again doubt me, fair?”
“I’ll think upon it,” was all he said.
Alys sighed and rolled her eyes, replacing the foodstuffs in the bundle. She reached for her own bag and began searching through it. “Very well. But I am going to the river to wash while there is still light.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said.
“I think not,” Alys said with a laugh. “Although wearemarried, I still feel we don’t know each other well enough for you to watch me bathe.”
Piers’s face burned at the thought. “We’renotmarried.”
“Whatever you say, husband.”
His brows lowered even further. “Is thatsoap?”
“Yes,” she said mildly, looking at the items in her left hand. “And my hairbrush. How else am I to bathe properly? Would you be so kind as to make use of one of those knives in your pack and cut a towel from my blue gown, please?”
“You’re going to wash with perse.”
“As I imagine it will feel quite smooth against my skin, yes.”
Piers shook his head as he retrieved a knife and cut a long, rectangular strip from the hem of the costly gown. He handed it up to her, and noticed that while he had been mangling her dress, Alys had also retrieved her fine slippers from her bag and exchanged them for the worn leather shoes on her feet.
She was going to wash in a river, with a perse cloth, while standing in silk slippers.
“Thank you,” she said sweetly as she took the rag.
“Don’t go far,” he warned. “Just below us. I won’t watch.”
“Very well,” she conceded, and then pointed to Layla when the monkey scampered over to join her. “No, Layla, you stay with Piers.”
The monkey hunkered down on her haunches as if pouting. Piers felt a bit resentful himself.
