“Not yet,” he said. “But if we reach the fell road before nightfall, we will have a chance to double back and confuse their trail.”
Frances nodded, though her stomach twisted with dread. “And what if we do not?”
Johnathan looked at her then, something flinty in his gaze. “Then I will fight.”
She did not doubt him. Perhaps that frightened her most of all—that he had already made peace with what he might have to do. That he would fight, or kill, or bleed to keep her free.
The realization tightened her chest. “Do not,” she said suddenly.
He blinked. “Do not what?”
“Do not throw yourself in front of danger for me.”
He arched a brow. “I would rather not be lectured by a woman who stormed into my home in the middle of the night.”
“You were my last hope.”
“And now I am your shield.”
She stared at him, torn between anger and a longing so sharp it left her breathless.
They broke free of the woods and followed a stretch of road that opened into windswept moors. The sky was changing again, clouds thickening and bruising along the horizon.
As dusk neared, they spotted another coaching inn in the distance—less a refuge and more a structure holding its ground against the wind.
“We will need to stay here until morning,” Johnathan said. “The horses are near spent, and I would rather face danger rested than flee half-asleep.”
Frances said nothing, too weary to argue. She was covered in road dust, her body sore, her mind a maze of what-ifs.
Inside the inn, the warmth of the fire did little to soothe the fatigue clinging to her bones. Johnathan paid for a room again—this time with less ceremony. The innkeeper, a wiry man with a crooked smile, paid them little attention. He scarcely glanced up as he accepted Johnathan’s coin.
Their room was smaller than the last—sloped ceiling, shuttered window, and one narrow bed.
“Do not argue,” she said as she entered, catching his glance at the bed. “We will share.”
“That is unwise.”
“I am not some delicate debutante.”
“No,” he said, removing his gloves slowly. “You are far stronger than most men I know. Which is why I will still insist you sleep in the bed and I take the floor. You are exhausted, Frances.”
“And what about you?”
“I will manage.”
She exhaled and sat on the edge of the mattress, her shoulders sagging.
A long silence passed.
“You are as brave as ever,” he said.
She looked up, surprised. “I am not as fearless as I was before…” she trailed off.
“Before they tried to make you a proper lady?”
A soft smile curved her lips. “Precisely.”
“I liked the other Frances better.”
