He lifted his eyebrows at her. “My lady, if your father got wind of such a sleeping arrangement, he would cut off my… head. He would be furious to say the least.”
Her brow furrowed. “But there is no reason why…oh….” She cooled. “Do you mean to imply that I suggested something inappropriate? That was not my intention, my lord. Not in the least.”
He could see she was mildly offended. “My lady, I did not take it as an improper suggestion, but there are others who would wonder why I was sleeping in your room. It is anunfortunate fact that men talk and if word got back to your father, I would be in for a row.”
Ellowyn simply nodded and turned away from him, resuming her stool next to the hearth. She was rather disappointed that he had refused her offer, but she recognized what he was saying. He made sense.
“I understand,” she said softly. “Please know I was not truly trying to suggest something inappropriate. I was rather hoping we could continue our conversation from last night. It has been a long time since I have enjoyed such conversation and… well, I do not have the opportunity to converse with many people so I suppose I was… forgive me, I am rambling. I am sure you must return to your men, so I will thank you again for your kindness and bid you a good eve.”
Brandt’s gaze lingered on her as she faced the fire, holding out a hand trying to rub some warmth back into it. As he stood there, the heavy-set man and the two women came into the room again, dumping more buckets of hot water into the copper tub. When they left, Brandt followed. He quit the room without a word and shut the door.
Ellowyn turned when she heard the door softly shut, seeing that she was quite alone in the room. With a sigh, she rose from her stool and went over to the door, bolting it. Going over to the pot, she put a hand into it to feel that it was very hot. She wanted to get into it badly but decided to wait for her things first. It would be of no use were she to get in now and then have to get out again when her satchel was brought about. Fresh clothes and toiletries were in the bag. So she went back over to the fire and sat, waiting for one of de Russe’s men to bring her possessions as she tried to figure out why she felt such a sense of disappointment with de Russe’s departure.
She didn’t have to wait long. Several minutes later, there was a knock on the door and she rose to open it. A wenchwith a loaded tray of food entered, moving to set the tray down on the small table next to the hearth. The wench fled, leaving Ellowyn to inspect the tray of mutton, carrots and turnips boiled together in gravy, plus a big slab of cheese and an entire loaf of bread. There was also a cup with something steaming in it, which turned out to be spiced wine. Ellowyn slurped it down as it soothed her irritated throat. It was so good that she called for the wench to bring her another one, but the wench brought two more. They were large tankards nearly filled full. Ellowyn was almost done with the third large cup of spiced wine when there was another knock on the door.
Feeling tipsy and warm, Ellowyn went to answer the door. Brandt was standing in the doorway, soaked to the skin, with her large traveling satchel in his hands. Before he could say a word, she grabbed her bag, then his hand, and yanked him into the room.
“Come in,” she demanded. “’Tis cold and wet outside, and you should sit.”
She punctuated the “sit” by shoving him into the nearest chair. Brandt let her do it, mostly because he was baffled by her behavior and wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but when he saw her taking a deep drink out of a fairly large tankard, he began to suspect what had happened.
“How many of those have you had?” he asked.
Ellowyn stopped sipping and looked at him with big eyes. “Of what?”
He pointed at the mug. “That.”
She stared at his pointed finger, then looked around until her gaze came to rest on the cup in her hand. “This?”
“Aye.”
It looked as if she were thinking very hard on the question. “I am not sure,” she said. “I may have had two or three.”
He was coming to understand the situation. “I told them to bring you something hot to drink,” he said. “Wine, I would presume?”
She stared into the cup as if trying to figure out what was in it. “Aye,” she said, then walked over to him and shoved it in his face. “See? There are bits of things in it.”
He had to dodge his head quickly or risk getting hit in the nose when she tried to show him what was in the mug. He was mostly watching her face as he spoke.
“Things? You mean bits of spice?” he said.
She was staring down into the cup, her brow furrowed. She was also very close to him. In fact, their heads were nearly touching. Brandt just watched her face, studying her long lashes and creamy skin, as she gazed into the cup.
“Things,” she repeated as if unsure how else to describe it. “Floating dark things. Mayhap they are bits of bugs.”
“I doubt they are bugs.”
That was good enough for her. She proceeded to toss her head back and drink the last bit of spiced wine, at least three big gulps worth. She nearly toppled as she tried to set the cup down and would have fallen had Brandt not reached out a long arm to steady her. She smiled at him when she realized he was trying to help her. Brandt tried not to smile back but it was difficult when she was grinning so openly at him.
“Perhaps you should go to bed,” he suggested. “It has been a long day and we will depart at dawn.”
Ellowyn continued to stare up at him. Then, she reached out and grasped the hand that was steadying her, tearing her gaze away from his face to look down at his gloved hand. It was big, the glove well-used and very well made. She inspected it closely.
“You have the biggest hand I have ever seen,” she said. Then she sneezed on the glove, wiped away the spittle with an apologetic glance, and then proceeded to pull off the glove. Shebegan to run her hand over his palm, inspecting the worn flesh. “Your hands are so rough. They have callouses. Is that from holding your sword?”
In truth, Brandt was having a rather difficult time keeping his head. There was something decidedly erotic about her running her fingers all over his hand, something that made his heart race and his stomach quiver. He was shocked at himself for his reaction to her, but not shocked enough to pull away. He rather liked the strange, alien feelings she was managing to provoke.
“Aye,” he muttered.
