‘’Bastian,’ she whispered.
He pressed her closer and kissed the top of her head.
Isabel was alive and he was never letting her go again.
Chapter Sixty-One
The woman, who gave her name as Mother Shipton, had one of the larger cottages in the village. A cheerful fire crackled in the hearth of what looked to be the one living room. Sebastian set Isabel down on a chair beside the fire. She clung to him, shivering so much that her teeth chattered. He folded his arms around her, trying to instil some warmth into her.
The old lady bustled in after them. ‘Sir? Do ’e have a name tha’s willing to share?’
‘Of course, I’m sorry. Lord Somerton, and this is Lady Somerton.’
The woman’s eyes widened, and she bobbed a curtsey, glancing around the sparse room.
‘Oh, my lord, I’m sorry I can do no better for ye.’
Sebastian shook his head and smiled at her. ‘It will do us fine. We just need somewhere to dry off and rest.’
‘Then let’s get her leddyship upstairs and into a warm bed.’
Sebastian lifted Isabel into his arms and carried her up narrow stairs to a sleeping chamber. The room was dominated by a large bed surmounted by a headboard on which were carved scenes of the sea life of the village. Intricate carvings ofshells and pebbles twisted in a border around the scenes of little boats crashing through waves that beat into a bleak shoreline.
‘You leave her leddyship to me. I’ve a clean nightgown here and I’ll find ye some dry clothes as well. Ye’ll not be leaving before daybreak so ye’re both welcome to my bed.’
Realising her error, Sebastian opened his mouth to explain ‘Lady Somerton’ was not his wife, but she shooed him from the room, before he could speak.
He returned to the warm, homely kitchen, where he found Harry sitting in a chair beside the fire, pulling his wet boots off. Harry looked up. Now the excitement had passed, his friend looked drawn and grey with weariness and Sebastian realised that every bone in his own body ached with sheer physical exhaustion.
‘I’ve seen to the horses.’ Harry gave him a rueful smile and ran a hand across his eyes. ‘You and I have been through some adventures, Alder, but today was a close-run thing.’
Sebastian crossed over to the fire and stood in front of Harry. Steam rose from his damp clothes, almost scalding his skin. The sting reminded him he was alive.
‘How’s the hand?’ Harry asked.
Sebastian looked down at the dirty bandage encircling the cut on the palm of his hand. He had spared it no thought for the last few hours. Now it started to throb.
‘It’s fine,’ he lied.
Harry ran a hand over his unshaven chin. ‘If you let me take Pharaoh, I’ll ride back to the nearest civilisation and send a message on to Brantstone from there. You’ll need a coach for Lady Somerton.’
‘You need to rest too, Harry,’ Sebastian said. ‘I know you were out looking for them most of the night, and it’s already been a hard day without another couple of hours ride.’
Harry rose to his feet and clapped his friend on the shoulder.
‘You’re alive. Lady Somerton is safe. Your reputation isrestored, and the imposters are discovered. I’d call that a good day’s work.’
‘A man is dead, my stables are razed, my coach destroyed, one of my best coach horses dead, and the villain has evaded capture. Something of a pyrrhic victory, I’d call it.’
Harry smiled and glanced out of the window as he pulled his boots back on. ‘It won’t look so bleak in the morning. I’d better get going before it turns dark on me.’
‘Travel safely.’
Harry grinned. ‘There’ll be a warm inn and a good supper for me in a couple of hours. You enjoy a well-earned rest.’
With a wink, he turned on his heel and went back out into the appalling weather.
‘Oh, has your friend left already?’ Mother Shipton appeared at the door with a neatly folded pile of clothes in her hand.
