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Though he did not look very kindly now.

“Who are you?”

It was not asked with heat but out of curiosity.

“Lady Clarissa of Theffield.”

The man, Lawrence, whipped his head to the side and glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to the dirt road in front of him. Covered with gravel that kicked up every so often, the land was at least flat. It had been so long since she’d traveled north, to Sutworth, that only small portions of the journey remained in her memory.

“You are Lady Clarissa?”

He knew her father, of course. It likely surprised him that she would be here with them rather than back at Theffield Castle. Or with her husband.

“Aye,” she said dispassionately. Accustomed to the various reactions people had upon learning of her association with Theffield, Clarissa attempted to ignore his tone.

“Lady Clarissa.”

Was she expected to respond?

“I thought you were married to—”

“Aye, I am.” She preferred not to hear her husband’s name spoken aloud.

“Then what . . . why?” He stopped. “Holy hell and the blessed mother, what have we done?”

Again, no response seemed appropriate, so Clarissa chose to remain silent.

His looks and countenance reminded her a bit of Aidan, which was perhaps why she’d told him as much as she had. Clarissa hoped he would not ask further questions, and her prayers were answered. They rode until the sun began to set. And though her bottom was beginning to get sore and her stomach rumbled, Clarissa did not utter a sound. These men had saved her, and she would be eternally grateful. She’d die before she opened her mouth to utter a complaint.

Finally, when she’d begun to despair that Aidan would never look at her, he glanced over at them. She tried to tell herself she was not disappointed when she realized he did not intend to address her.

“We cannot ride through the night.”

He’d reared his horse nearly to a stop.

When he did look at her, Aidan did not appear pleased. It occurred to her that their plans must have changed because of her presence.

“The Wild Boar is behind us, and Anvil Inn too far out of the way,” Lawrence said.

“We go to Sutworth Manor first.”

Now that they had stopped, Lawrence turned completely around to stare at her. She blinked but refused to look away under his close scrutiny.

“Aidan, we really should not—”

“It is not negotiable.”

“Staying somewhere along the road is much too risky. Tensions are too high . . .”

“We’ll stop,” Aidan said, appearing to make a decision, “feed and water the horses, and then ride.” He shifted his gaze to her. “Can you do that, Clarissa?”

Two things happened at once when he said her name. Clarissa’s heart began to race and she noticed Lawrence did not flinch. As the daughter of an earl, few would call her by her given name. Even family members did not always do so, at least not without using her title.

Which meant Aidan’s friend knew what had passed between them at the tournament.

Trying not to appear embarrassed, she said to Aidan, “I can do it.”

Her backside screamed in protest. Clarissa’s husband had taken her father’s advice and did not allow her far from the castle, which meant any rides she’d taken had been rather short. But these men did not need to know that.