“It is why we’re here at the counter and not over there,” explained Reed.
“In-bloody-sufferable,” pronounced Dermid. “He’s so lovesick he’s going to turn all our stomachs and poor Jade’s too. I told her to wave me over if she can’t take any more wooing. Tell me, Madam Robbie, your friend isn’t troubled by an overabundance of politeness, is she?”
“I think,” I replied, both caution and a tiny bit of hope in my words, “she does not sit at that table out of politeness.” There must have been something like fear in my face.
A sincerity in his speech, Dermid said, “You’ve nothing to worry over.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I replied with a nod, smiling at both the Helmsman and the lady warrior, sparing Reed only the briefest of looks, that bit of his skin still on my mind. I said, “Good night,” and walked away, elbowing my way around a roomful of men—residents of Griston, penitents, and soldiers alike. The tavern wasstuffy, and I was ready to go back to the wagon and sleep. I had been awake for nearly a full day and night now.
I spied Thane deep in conversation with Wynne and Kent and kept my head down, pretending not to see Wynne’s head move, not to see his wink as he watched me make my way outside to the street. I found the alleyway through which I had entered the town and made my way into it, slinking between the torches mounted outside.
It only took a moment of cool night air to remind me how incredibly asinine I was. “Oh,shit,” I cried. “I did it again.” Perhaps Iwasa piss-poor criminal. I kept forgetting I was the target of a murder plot.
“You’re always talking to yourself.”
I nearly squawked as I spun on the spot. I stood in darkness, but Reed was lit by one of the torches on the outside of the tavern’s wall.
“Can you walk me home?” I blurted out.
He had moved to step closer to me, and he froze. “Of course I will. Why do you ask? Do you feel unsafe?”
Again, his voice was pronounced and measured.
“Maybe,” I admitted, watching him continue to approach.
“Will you tell me why you were breathless last night?” he asked when he was nearer to me, when he was close enough to reach out and touch me.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, relieved at his being there. I should have told him, should have asked for his protection, but I kept hearing Bertram’s words about Fox. I kept worrying that telling anyone could lead to her death.
Reed exhaled, letting his breath rush from his nose. He brought his forefingers up to the neckline of his jerkin and hooked them there. “You never want to talk to me,” he said, his words low.
“I’m so glad you’ve appeared,” I said, adopting a spirited friendliness. I turned back around and said, over my shoulder, “Just accompanying me back to my wagon would be so helpful?—”
The air rushed out of my lungs when he stepped so close behind me, his body cradled my own. Had I the breath, I would haveexclaimed in surprise when he corralled me to the side and pushed me, not violently but decidedly, against the wall, anchoring me there with his hips pressed into my rear, his hands placed on either side of me.
Reed sighed and put his forehead on the back of my own head. Then he asked, ragged and anguished, “Why don’t youlike me?”
59
NOW: ALLEY
Iopened my mouth to ask some inane question in response to his own inanity, but he was still speaking.
“It cannot be my eye. You don’t seem repulsed by it. I would understand if you were, but that cannot be it. It doesn’t feel that way. Nevertheless, I need to be told,expresslytold, to leave you alone, because it would seem that I cannot. Not until you say it.”
In the dark, I couldn’t see anything but the faint glow of the torches out of the corners of my eyes. My face was up against the cool stone, but not roughly, only resting there.
“Was it Thane? Was it one of those other men? In the woods last night? Put me out of my misery and tell me so I can beginhatingwhoever he is.”
I brought my hands up to the stone wall and tried to push him away, but my effort was half-hearted.
“Godsdamn,” he whispered into my hair and met my movement with a thrust of his own, his hips giving a sharp jerk into my rear end. “Gods, but that is torture. Is that what you want? Is that what arouses you? Torturing a man?”
“No,” I said, frightened at how weak my push had been, as if Iwas pushing him away only so I could claim to myself I had at least tried to before I surrendered.
“I don’t care if it is,” Reed mused. “I don’t. At all.” This time the thrust of his hips was softer and slower, though the pressure remained. “Take it out on me. You can torture me to death if that’s what you want, if that’s what you need. Is that what you need, Robbie?”
“What Ineed?” I asked, mortified by the scratch in my voice.
