Silas sucked in a breath, but came towards her, picking up the jar.
Honora held herself very still as he dipped his fingers into the honey salve, smearing it gently over the gash across her upper arm.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, watching her face intently as he wound the bandage around her arm.
She shrugged. “A little. Not as much as before.”
Silas nodded, his fingers lingering as he tied off the bandage.
“Is there anything else you need?” he asked absently, skimming the back of his hand down the bare skin of her arm in a way that sent tingles of delight all through her.
“I…don’t think I can fall asleep here alone. Will you stay with me, just for a little while?”
He sighed, his jaw clenching. “I shouldn’t.”
“Oh, please?”
“Very well. Get under the covers. I will lie next to you.”
Twelve
Honora feltas if her heart would beat out of her chest as Silas shrugged off his jacket and waistcoat and lowered himself onto the bed beside her, stretching out his long, lean body and crossing his booted feet at the ankles.
Honora sat up with agitation. “Come now, take off your boots as well. You can at least be comfortable.”
Silas grumbled, but complied, laying back down with his stockinged feet. “Are you happy now?”
“Yes,” she mumbled, trying to get comfortable on the somewhat lumpy mattress. She drew the coverlet up to her neck, flinching as the noise from below swelled louder.
“There now,” said Silas, drawing Honora into the crook of his arm, settling her head on his shoulder. “You have had a trying few days. Sleep, I will keep watch over you. There is nothing to fear.”
Honora sighed with relief, curling herself into the warmth of his chest.
It was terrible to be taking advantage of his good nature like this, but she did so enjoy having his arm around her.
It was the closest she would ever get to her true desire, as painful as the knowledge was.
“Benedict will have my head,” she heard him mutter vaguely as she slipped away into sleep.
* * *
Honora woke to a loud shout from below, the noise dying down again as her eyes fluttered open to find the room dark.
The candle had burned itself almost down to the wick, the light weak and flickering.
She shifted, finding herself draped over Silas’s chest, her hand resting on the hard plane of his belly, her face pressed to the skin of his throat.
It was an undeniably sensual position, and her pulse flared to life, every nerve in her body tingling with the awareness of their proximity.
She spread her fingers, testing the feel of him under her palm, skimming lightly over the fine linen of his shirt.
Her breath picked up, ghosting across his jaw as she sleepily nuzzled the skin below his ear.
His body tensed, his arm twitching where it curved around her shoulder, and Honora belatedly realised Silas was still awake.
Her stomach flipped with nerves, but something wicked seemed to have taken over, spurring her to do that which she would never have the courage to do in the light of day.
Slowly, she pressed her lips to the skin of his throat, dragging her mouth across the rasp of his evening beard.
