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“Stand back,” he said.

She stepped away as the quilt flew over the cord. A few tugs here and a pull there and Lord Hollings had erected a perfectly serviceable curtain.

“Your castle, my lady,” he said, poking his head around the curtain.

“That’s quite clever of you.”

“ ‘Quite clever’ is exactly what I was aiming for.”

She glanced at it again, and he must have interpreted that as trepidation, for he said, “Don’t you know that castles are built to be impenetrable?”

“Even ones made of cloth?” she asked.

“Those are the most secure.” He grinned before disappearing behind the curtain again. “They keep the virtue of the damsels locked away in their towers safe.”

“I’m a poor substitute for a damsel, sir,” she said with a little laugh.

“That,” he said as he poked his head around again, “is where you’re very wrong. Now, when I told the innkeeper that my wife tends to be very cold at night, he informed me that he keeps an extra quilt and linens in the chest of drawers. Would you be so good as to check?”

Sure enough, the linens and a quilt were tucked away in the bottom drawer. She pulled them out and brought them to the curtain. “Do I have permission to enter the castle?”

When he stuck an arm around the end of the curtain, it was bare except for his shirtsleeve. “I think it’s best if you pass them around this way. No testing the fortifications tonight.”

She couldn’t help her smile as she blindly handed him his supplies.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said as the last sheet disappeared around the impenetrable wall.

As Jane undressed to her shift and slid between the covers, all she could hear from the other side of the room was rustling. She clutched the bed linens, forcing herself to stay on her side of the curtain even though curiosity chipped at her resolve. Even a dozen feet away from one another, this was the closest she’d ever been to a man in a state of deshabille, and the whole thing made her tingle with awareness from head to toe. It would be so easy to peek, but no. He’d laid down the rules clearly so she’d know he didn’t harbor any ill intentions. Now she had to abide by them as well.

When finally he stopped moving about, he called out, “May I dim the lights?”

She wetted her lips, forcing calm into her voice. “Please. Thank you.”

The room became darker and a few moments later she could hear him lie down.

“Sleep well, fair maiden,” he said with a sigh. “Rain or no rain, we have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.”

Jane lay there, stiff and alert, until she heard his breath slip into the regular, steady pace of one asleep. It was only then that she was able to bring her shoulders down from around her ears.

He was right. She did need rest, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized just how tired she was. Between the long hours in the saddle and the brandy before their meal, her eyelids were drooping.

Jane rolled onto her side and curled her body around a pillow, trying her best not to dream of knights in shining armor.

Chapter Five

Sleep came easily to Nicholas—hardly a surprise given how much they’d ridden that day—but staying asleep was another matter entirely. No more than an hour after he’d slipped into slumber his eyes snapped open, and he knew why before he even remembered which village he was in.

Jane.

She was just feet away behind a flimsy curtain he’d erected in hopes it would preserve some of her modesty and remind him that under no circumstances was he to cross over to her side of the room no matter how tempting the thought was. He’d built a tower of cloth to protect her from an ogre. Him.

When she’d opened the door to their shared room that evening, his hand had clenched so hard around the brandy bottle’s neck that he’d risked shattering it. She’d let her hair down and it had begun to curl as it dried. Lit from behind by the glowing fire, she’d been angelic with rosy cheeks and full lips that were half open in invitation. She’d looked like a dream.

He’d managed to control himself through supper, but the dark hours of the night were a different matter. Every time he heard her shift in her sleep, that image of her warm and inviting bubbled up in his memory. He’d finally gotten up and deliberately walked to the table, pouring out some more spirits just because he was looking for some distraction for his hands.

As he sat there clutching his glass, his mind played out the scene he wanted more than anything. He’d stalk across the room, push back the curtain, and find her sitting up in bed. Jane’s eyes would thrill as he climbed over her. Then her head would fall back, neck stretched long and lips open, and he’d kiss her hard. He could almost feel the crush of his lips over hers, the softness of her hips through the thin layers of whatever she was wearing to sleep in. In his heated imagination, he’d settle between her legs, pressing the hardness of him to her sex, fueling the ache that rolled through them both. He’d strip them until there was nothing between them except a thin sheen of sweat of skin against skin and the promise of pleasure—

And that’s exactly where he slammed the lid on that fantasy each and every time. Miss Ephram needed his protection, not his licentiousness. If he broke his promise to be a gentleman, he’d be nothing more than a cad. He’d looked after the well-being of his sisters for too long to stop the fiercely protective streak that ran through him now. On the road Miss Ephram was his responsibility. End of story.