“Is he dead?” Fee squeaked.
“Safely back in its cage,” Hurtheven replied.
“Oh, Mrs—Mama!” Fee launched herself at the nursemaid. “I was scared!SoScared! I’m sorry I ever wanted to see the animals. Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Mrs. Montrose took the child into her arms and held her tightly. “You’re fine. I’m fine. He’s fine. Even the lion is fine. Oh, heavens.” She closed her eyes. “We are fine, aren’t we? We’re fine.”
She was trying to convince herself as much as the child. He understood. She’d used every ounce of her courage to tie herself together, but the ropes were wearing thin.
“I was scared.” Fee repeated. “I thought?—”
“I know, darling.” She stroked Fee’s back. “Me, too.”
“Youwere scared?”
“Yes.Oh,yes.”
“I didn’t know where Unc—Papa was!” Fee shuddered as she inhaled. “But you came, didn’t you? You came!”
Hurtheven’s lips hardened in self-recrimination. She shouldn’t have been out there alone with the children. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in what had almost happened in the lane...
“I came,” Hurtheven placed a hand on Fee’s head. “If in my power, I will always be here for you.”
Delmare leaned against his leg. Likely wanting the same comfort, but too proud to accept reassurance in public.
He gripped the boy’s shoulder with his other hand. “You did a very good job of listening to Mrs. Montrose. And keeping Fee calm.”
Delmare stilled his trembling lip. “Thank you, ah, Papa.”
“Come in,” the woman with the apron motioned to them from the doorway of the inn. “Come in and have a sit down.”
“Well?” Hurtheven raised his brows.
“You’re asking me what we should do next?” Mrs. Montrose replied with a question.
“You are my wife,” he reminded her of their deception.
“Ah, yes.” Mrs. Montrose adjusted Fee’s clothing—twisting her stocking back into place and then retying a bow. She wobbled a bit as she stood. “Your wife.” She cupped her forehead. “Yes.” She gazed down at the children. “I think—” She glanced back at the beast pacing inside the cage. “I think... We should...” She closed her eyes. “I must beg your pardon. I—I cannot seem to...”
Her skin paled. Her eyes unfocused. He caught her as she crumpled.
“She’s dead!” Fee waled.
“Just fainted,” Delmare took his sister’s hand.
He lifted her up. Despite her height, she wasn’t heavy at all. He brought her head against his shoulder. Her disarrayed hair tickled beneath his chin. The shame he’d felt transformed into a calling.
He’d protect her, now. She’d not know fear like this again.
“It appears,” he said with determination, “my wife and I are in need of lodging.”
* * *
A light breeze cooled Hera’s face. She turned her head into pillowy softness and breathed in a scent—spiced, rich, and with a lightly floral undertone. She’d inhaled the scent before but could not remember where.
She’d no recollection of climbing abed, either. Nor of removing her coat and bonnet. Although she’d had some hazy awareness of having opened her eyes to a woman clucking with the command that she rest. However, the last thing sheclearlyremembered...
She sat up straight. “The children!”
