She moved back to the couch and slipped underneath the blanket she had slept on. The room had chilled considerably, and her feet felt like solid blocks of ice.
“My apologies,” Kirk said in a contrite voice. “I should have tended the fire. My mind has been occupied by other matters.”
“Such as?” she asked, watching as he placed more coal in the stove.
He chuckled. “Pumping me for information, Princess?”
He shut the stove door with a clang and turned back to her, his eyes twinkling devilishly. “I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.”
“Did Merrick leave you here to question me?” she demanded.
“You don’t trust anyone, do you?” He shook his head. “Merrick risked his life for you. If we wanted you dead, you would be lying six feet under the ground at this very moment.”
“Don’t lecture me,” she hissed. “I have good reason not to trust anyone.”
They were interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. Kirk yanked the door open and Merrick ducked in. Merrick immediately looked around the room and stopped when his gaze lighted on her.
He dropped a burlap sack over the back of the sofa. “I brought you some things,” he said. “Put them on. We must be on our way.”
She stood rapidly, a million questions rushing to her lips.
He held up a hand. “I’ll explain as soon as you are dressed.”
Nonplussed, she closed her mouth and reached down for the sack. She dug out a clean pair of breeches and a shirt as well as a heavy coat and hat. But her greatest delight was a pair of fur lined boots. After suffering the shoddy pair Merrick had discarded, she couldn’t wait to thrust her feet into the new pair.
She collected the garments and looked hastily around for a discreet place to change. Merrick cleared his throat then gestured toward a dimly lit corner. He motioned for Kirk to turn around, following suit immediately after.
Her gaze never left the two men as she eased into the corner. She positioned herself behind a ragged armchair, the only item to afford her a modicum of modesty and quickly went about changing her clothes.
The two men talked in hushed tones, their heads bent close. Then they clasped hands seemingly in a gesture of friendship and support.
“I was unable to see the duke,” Merrick said in a louder voice. “You must go and see him for me. Find out what is going on and report back to me when you can.”
Kirk nodded, and seconds later, he slipped out the door and was gone. She frowned, wondering what else they had discussed.
She reached down for the boots, stopping when she found a hairbrush shoved into one of them. The earl had thought of everything. Oddly, she was touched by his thoughtfulness. Setting the brush aside for now, she pulled on the boots, delighting in the feel of the warm fur.
Tossing aside the sack, she returned to the couch and stared inquiringly at the earl.
“Where are you proposing we go?” she asked.
As she awaited his response, she pulled her long locks over her shoulder and began brushing her hair.
“Here, let me,” he said, moving to sit behind her on the couch.
To her amazement, he took the brush from her and began working it through the tangles.
“It would take you longer,” he said impatiently. “And we haven’t much time.”
Though his tone was brusque, his strokes were in direct contradiction. He took great care as he gently pulled the brush through her hair.
She closed her eyes as waves of pleasure washed over her. Tiny goose pimples spread over her scalp and down her back, and it was all she could do not to moan aloud.
“What do we do now?” she asked softly.
He paused, letting the brush hang in her hair. “I think that depends on whether you agree to stay with me and not go bolting from the nearest window.”
She pulled away and turned around to face him, ignoring his barb. She still wasn’t entirely sure he could be completely trusted, but he represented her best chance of making it out of England alive. Taking in a deep breath, she rubbed a hand over her mouth. “I need your help, Merrick.”
