The three of them ate in companionable silence. Then it was time to pack up, saddle the horses, and resume their journey.
Suzanne thought the cat had gone about his feline business, but after Simon helped her into the gray’s saddle, the tabby appeared from nowhere and leaped onto her stirruped left foot. Then he began earnestly hauling himself up her trousered leg, his nails tiny little needles that stabbed through fabric and into skin. He made it up to her knee and jumped on the saddle between her legs, looking vastly pleased with himself.
“I think our scouting party has acquired a new recruit,” she said, unable to resist scratching his scrawny little neck. “Can I keep him?”
“As long as you’re both willing, I don’t see why not. He wouldn’t have shown up here if he had a real home.” Simon had just fastened the supply saddlebags on their packhorse, so he unlatched one side and pulled out a folded shirt. “You might want to put this under him so he doesn’t curl his claws into any sensitive bits of your anatomy.”
“Good idea. Those claws aresharp.” She tucked the folded shirt under the little tabby. He settled into the soft fabric and looked ready to ride all day. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Pets were very cheering. “I should give him a name.”
“Once you do, he’s yours,” Simon said with a grin as he swung onto the saddle pad he’d improvised on the bay’s back.
“Leo, I think. That’s a proper feline name.”
“Very well, Leo and milady. Northward, ho!”
Tonight they should sleep in Brussels after what she fervently hoped would be a boringly uneventful day.
Chapter 33
The ride north was more than uneventful; it was delightful. The day was pleasant and sunny, full of late spring beauty before the summer heat. In the middle of a patch of woods, they forded a shallow river. As their horses scrambled up the opposite bank, Simon said, “We have just passed from France into Belgium.”
“I’m glad!” she said. “Shall we stop and stretch our legs and have a bite to eat?”
“A good thought. The horses can drink from the river and there’s plenty of grass for grazing.” He dismounted and helped Suzanne from her horse. “How is little Leo doing? He hasn’t tried to bolt?”
“No, he seems quite happy to travel along. He’s very attached to me. Literally!” She lifted the little tabby, who promptly dug his needle claws into the shirt that had become his traveling bed. “He’s not doing your shirt any good, though.”
“It’s an old shirt, and even if it wasn’t, it’s worth sacrificing for such a charming addition to our party.”
Suzanne passed Leo to Simon. He was a nice furry little handful who purred, and also yawned to reveal a mouthful of sharp teeth. Lucky he wasn’t a biter.
After a pause to scratch Leo’s head, Simon set him on the ground. The cat bounced under a shrub to relieve himself. Then he returned and made it politely known to Suzanne that he was ready for another meal.
She dismounted and pulled the food pack from a saddlebag, then tossed a bit of cheese to Leo, who consumed it eagerly and looked hopefully for more. As she gave him another bit, she said, “The cheese may run out before we reach Brussels at this rate.”
Simon chuckled. “His enthusiasm is charming, but save some for us,ma chérie.”
They settled next to each other on the grass and enjoyed their picnic. Suzanne loved this relaxed time with Simon. No distractions, no danger for the moment.
She discreetly admired her husband’s handsome face, which no longer made her think of Jean-Louis, who had glittered with wit and charm over deep layers of self-absorption. Simon had similar bones and build and coloring, but when she looked in his face, she saw calm authority and subtle humor and deep kindness.
She liked that his dark hair was getting pleasantly shaggy and that he let her doze for a few minutes with her head on his lap before they continued. With him, she felt safe and cared for and understood.
What made this day so intensely, painfully wonderful was the knowledge that when they reached Brussels, the hammer of impending war would come down on them. Simon would almost certainly be sent away to do his hazardous exploring work, and the city would fill with would-be warriors and worried women. Of which she would be one, so she wanted to capture every moment of this simple happiness to hold in her heart.
All too soon, Simon woke her from her doze with a kiss on her temple. “Time to resume our journey, milady. And at the end, we shall find good food and a hot bath and a large, comfortable bed.”
“I’m not sure which of those sounds best!” She raised her head from his lap and leaned in for a proper kiss. Simon’s arms circled her and he drew her into a leisurely continuation of that kiss. He had a wonderful mouth, so sensual and welcoming. By the time they broke apart, they were both panting.
Simon drew a deep breath and stood, offering her his hand. “Later?”
She rose and gazed into his gray eyes, which were not cool at all. “Later!”
Not releasing her hand, Simon said, “You seem to have recovered from yesterday better than I could have imagined.”
“It helps that I have had a great deal of practice at overcoming dreadful experiences at the hands of men.” She hesitated, looking for the words to explain. “This time, I had you, who understood my berserker rage. Because of that, I better understood myself, which was a very long step toward accepting my own darkness and beginning to heal.”
“I’m glad I was able to help,” he said quietly.
