Chapter Seven
Eoos understood what she was asking.He stared down at her. He wanted to help; he had already promised Kit he would. But he was only one man. “What can I do against the bishop’s men?”
Tears shimmered in her blue eyes. “There has to be some way. There must be something we can do. Won’t you help us?”
“I can’t even remember who I am. What would you have me do?”
“Please, Eoos.”
His horse whinnied and tossed his head, bumping Mercy. She lost her balance.
Eoos quickly reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her. She regained her balance, and when he should have pulled his hand away, he didn’t. She needed him. And she had helped him to heal, offering him food and a warm place to stay, seeing to his injuries. He was in-debted to her. He just didn’t know what he could do. “I will do all I can.”
She pulled her arm back until her fingers touched his and she squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Eoos.”
The horse whinnied again.
Eoos cast the animal an annoyed glance and his gaze came to rest on their interlocked fingers. “Is there a magistrate you can speak to about this?”
Mercy shook her head. “I’m positive the bishop is paying him, or the magistrate doesn’t believe us. He simply ignores the matter.”
“Have you sent a missive to the Pope?” Mercy looked at him with such tenderness that his insides twisted.
“We don’t know how to write.”
“I do. We can start there.”
“It will take weeks to get a missive to the Pope. Kit doesn’t have weeks. I need to… to take him somewhere. Keep him hidden.”
“You would leave? Run away?”
“I would do anything to keep Kit safe. But I have nowhere to go.”
She was desperate. Her eyes were large with anguish, bright with agony. He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “I’ll write a missive. We’ll start there.”
Mercy nodded, but doubt furrowed her brow.
“If we hear nothing, we shall begin to plan an escape.”
Mercy threw her hands around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Shocked, Eoos caught her and held her against him.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Mercy whispered.
Her body was soft, her cheek pressed against his even softer. Something stirred within him, something warm and comforting and needing. He wanted to protect her.
She pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling back.
Startled, he could only stare at her. Her pert nose, her full lips. She smelled like the flowers and honey. When she stepped back, he immediately missed her warmth, her touch. He cleared his throat softly, the memory of her kiss still wet on his cheek.
Together, they walked down the dusty road toward the cottage. He turned to regard the village as it grew distant. It was a small village and the people were afraid. He wondered what he could do to help Kit. He would try everything.
“Did you remember anything about your horse?” Mercy asked.
Eoos looked at her, jarred out of his reverie. “No. Nothing.” It was strange the way he recalled his past. He knew things, but he couldn’t remember important things, like his name.
“You should ride him tomorrow.”
