“The food looks good.” He moved the last two logs, then took the plate from her and settled on the fur she’d laid out for him.
To keep herself from being too obvious as she watched his every bite, she reached for her own serving. She needed to have her food eaten by the time he grew drowsy. She’d have no time to waste, and her journey would require all the energy she could muster.
She did her best to answer the few questions Damienasked as he ate, but the bites she took dried in her mouth and threatened to clog her throat. Was she doing the wrong thing? How could she poison a man on purpose?
It wasn’t poison, though. Only a simple tonic that wouldn’t cause lasting harm. She had to keep in mind whatheplanned to do toher.
Which she didn’t know. But his duplicity didn’t bode well.
As much as she tried to summon anger, though, only dread twisted in her belly.
The potion was already beginning to set in by the time he finished his food, though he’d eaten quickly. He must have been famished.
His eyelids drooped halfway closed, then farther down. He jerked them up, raising his chin, and it looked as though he was trying to focus on her. She kept herself perfectly still.
But then his eyelids dropped all the way shut. He swayed like he might fall over, then his eyes shot wide again. He would fight this as long as he could. That shouldn’t surprise her. Damien’s strength and perseverance had already showed itself in his willingness to walk long days on snowshoes while she rode Gulliver. He never complained, just kept going.
The tightness in her chest squeezed. She shouldn’t have pushed so hard to start out early that morning. He probably needed the extra rest as much as she and the mule did.
But the delay might also have been part of whatever scheme he had planned. She had to keep reminding herself of that important fact. Had to harden her heart.
Just then, he slumped to the side, his body finally giving in to the power of the sleeping tonic.
She rose and moved to his side, helping position him morecomfortably. Reaching for the furs Damien used as covers, she laid out several atop him. She didn’t want him to grow too cold while he slept.
After snatching up her pack and roll of bedding, she glanced around the campsite once more. She’d made sure to pack only what she brought, nothing that belonged to him.
Except the drawing. It still lay tucked in his book inside his satchel. She couldn’t go through his things, not with him lying unconscious from her own doing. Her chest ached at the thought of leaving the drawing behind, but perhaps it would be best not to take any memories from their time together.
Would she ever see him again? Her gaze landed on the man, covered by furs from his mouth down. Even in sleep, sadness cloaked the lines around his eyes. She’d seen that shadow of melancholy a great deal more at the beginning. It seemed to have lifted some each day.
Her feet carried her toward him, and she dropped to her knees by his head. “I’m sorry, Damien.” She kept her words to a whisper, though it wasn’t likely she would wake him. “I wish it could have been different.”
The ache pushed up to her eyes, tears stinging, though she held them back. What would have happened if they’d met under different circumstances? Would they still have been friends? She would still admire him, she knew that without a doubt. That is, she would admire the man she’d come to know.
A flicker of doubt ignited in her. Could there possibly be a good reason why he’d lied to her?
Steeling her resolve, she pushed to her feet and turned toward the darkness. Even if he had an honorable reason forhis actions, she would do better on her own—as she should have stayed from the very beginning.
Slipping from camp, she stayed in the trees for as long as she could, stepping in existing tracks or barren patches where possible.Cover my trail, Lord. Hide my route so he can’t find it.
As the night grew thicker around her, she kept her feet aimed toward the east—and Fort Versailles.
14
Damien woke to roiling in his belly so fierce that he curled around his middle to escape the agony. What had he eaten to bring this on? His foggy mind wouldn’t recall anything from his last meal.
The churning increased, and he sucked in deep breaths to keep his insides from surging upward. Bile tickled his throat, and his stomach spasmed.No.
He scrambled onto his hands and knees as his accounts spewed out into the snow beside his bed in one convulsion after another. By the time the last one faded, his strength seeped away with it. He dropped back, resting his head on his fur pallet. Whatever meat they’d eaten in the last meal had to be thrown out. Maybe he’d purged the worst of it from his belly now.
Charlotte. Was she sick, too?
He lifted his aching head to search their camp for her. The fire burned low, but a few small flames still flickered. Darkness seemed thick outside the fringe of light.
He focused on the place where Charlotte should besleeping. She wasn’t there, not even a covering. Had she moved her bedroll?
Shifting his head to better see around the fire, he squinted to make out what he might be missing. She didn’t seem to be anywhere.
