A few days earlier she might have argued with him, but no longer. His military experience and understanding were far beyond anything she would ever master. “Very well, I won’t pester you to travel on journeys where I would be a nuisance.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”
“You thought I’d be stubborn, didn’t you?”
He chuckled, then brushed a kiss on her forehead. “Yes, but one of the many things I like about you is your intelligence.”
“That’s sometimes more true than other times,” she said ruefully.
“Such is the nature of being human.” He yawned, covering his mouth with one hand. “I’m going to sleep like a hibernating bear. It’s been a tiring day.”
That it had been. “Will any sound that suggests danger wake the bear up in an instant?”
“Yes, it’s one of those skills one learns in the army. Luckily this seems a peaceful place. I hope you can sleep also, milady.” He tucked her close and relaxed.
He fell into sleep almost immediately, his slow, steady breaths soothing. She wasn’t surprised when she thought of how much he’d done this day, taking down one of the soldiers, then managing their escape and quietly caring for her when she fell to pieces. He deserved his rest.
Though she was also exhausted, her mind was too jangled for sleep. She forced her body to relax, muscle by muscle. Then she made herself remember the whole horrible encounter with Fabron, refusing to avoid a single moment.
Then she hurled the experience into a mental bonfire and let the flames consume every vile touch, every bit of rage, every wash of shame, every searing emotion. The mental exercise left her shaking, but distanced from what had happened. She had devised this technique as a way to endure the worst of her experiences in the harem.
Because above all else, she was a survivor. She would not allow monsters to destroy the goodness of her new life.
Thinking of goodness, she patted her sleeping husband. How had she been so lucky as to find a man of such kindness and understanding? Well, actually he had found her. She hoped he didn’t regret how complicated their bargain had become.
That was a thought for another day. For now, finally, she could sleep.
* * *
Suzanne was dozing peacefully when rustling in the straw jerked her awake. Not an enemy. The sound was too small for a soldier, and far too close. A rat?
Warily she sat up and looked around. Simon slept on, presumably recognizing that sounds from her were unthreatening.
More rustling. The dim light in the barn caught the movement of a small creature, but it didn’t move like a rat. A cat—that was it. A small, scrawny cat was nosing at the food bag. It skittered backward when she moved, staring at her anxiously. Poor hungry little fellow. It seemed to be having a worse day even than she was.
Moving slowly, she reached out for the bag and pulled it close, then felt inside. Ah, the cheese. She broke off a chunk and pulled it out, then broke off a smaller piece and tossed it toward the little cat. It jumped nervously, then crept forward warily on its belly till it reached the tidbit and bolted it down. Suzanne tossed another piece and this time the cat didn’t back off as far before moving in to devour.
She continued tossing small pieces until the original chunk was gone. When the cat saw that no more food was coming, it sat back on its haunches and daintily washed its small face. Then it vanished into the shadows.
Smiling, Suzanne relaxed back on the blanket and rolled an arm over Simon. Feeding the hungry was rewarding.
* * *
Suzanne woke the next morning when something small, cool, and moist touched her cheek. Surprised, she opened her eyes and saw a hopeful little tabby cat almost nose to nose with her. She decided it was a half-grown kitten, not yet a full-fledged cat. A skinny gray tabby with golden eyes. The little puss had been there a while, she guessed, since her shoulder was warm as if a tiny little fur blanket had been resting there.
She moved her hand slowly to the cat and scratched its head. She was rewarded with a treble purr. The cat arched its back and turned under her hand, the long tail a happy banner. Suzanne got a close view of the little fellow’s backside. A “he,” not an “it.”
He head-butted her cheek. She laughed and Simon stirred to wakefulness beside her. “It appears you have company,” he murmured.
“This little fellow was trying to get into the food bag last night, so I gave him some cheese. He must have liked it.”
“Food is a fine basis for a relationship.” Also moving slowly, Simon sat up. “I think he’s trying to convey that it’s breakfast time.”
“Can we spare more cheese?”
“Go ahead, we have enough to get us back to Brussels and then some.” Simon extended his hand and the little cat sniffed it, then licked his fingertips. “His coat is rough and he’s half starving, but he’s not feral.”
“I think he’s a barn cat who wants a position as a house cat.” Suzanne pulled out more cheese, setting down a small piece for the cat, then handing a larger piece to Simon, along with the last piece of bread. Since there was still a good supply of cheese, she gave more to the cat.
