“I know of no other way to ask for a ride,” he protested in his defense. “I have to use words. I need their attention—”
She came to a halt, her eyes snapping with frustration. “Have you taken a look at yourself? You look—” She paused as if for a loss of words, then found them. “You look like a brigand.”
“A brigand? Now that is a word one doesn’t hear every day—”
“Stop it.I’m trying to tell you something.”
“Yes, governess,” he shot back, and began walking. He was hungry. He hadn’t slept well. He didn’t want to listen to the chidings of some impudent little housemaid who should have stayed home—
“Youreek.”
Kit stopped, one foot caught in the air in the action of moving forward. He set it down, faced her. “Whatdid you say?”
She didn’t even bat an eye as she repeated, “You reek. You smell. You are—”
“I knowwhat reek means,” he almost roared.
“Do you?” she questioned, fearless in the face of his outrage. She began limping past him.
“You are saying I smell.”
“That is what reek means,” she tossed off in a tone that made him want to grab her braid and yank her back to him.
Except, she was probably right.
Kit couldn’t smell himself. Well, that wasn’t true. There had been a time or two when he’d noticed he was a bit ripe. But he was traveling. He was living like the common people did. Yesterday, he’d had quite a bit of ale waiting for the Mail and the scent of that could come through one’s skin...
He paused the thought, reconsidering.
Perhaps he had fallen into a terrible rut, one of his own making.
It was the drink. He’d been imbibing too much. It made a man careless. Then his horse had gone lame, he’d been walking, there was the storm—he had a long list of excuses.
And now he reeked.
He scratched the growth of whiskers covering his jaw and became aware of how they’d grown. He couldn’t contest Elise’s verdict, and Kit hated that. Especially when he realized that he found himself rather foul as well.
Abruptly, he turned and walked off the road, heading into the woods.
“Where are you going?” Elise asked.
He paused his march. “Stay here,” he replied. “Rest. Put your feet up.”
“Butwhereare you going?” she insisted, and even Tamsyn gave a worried bark.
What a great dog. Sharp as they came.
“Stay with her,” Kit ordered Tamsyn. “Don’t let her out of your sight. I’ll be back.” What he had in mind shouldn’t take him long.
Tamsyn wagged her tail as if she understood her assignment and was rather pleased with it.
“We may not be here when you return,” Elise threatened.
“Then I will catch up to you.” Even if he was gone an hour, she’d wouldn’t be that far up the road. Not limping the way she was.
“Not likely,” she declared.
He didn’t answer. What he was about was his business. She had made a complaint; he had realized she was right—he was a proper mess; he would find a solution.
