Page 15

A bitter taste flooded his tongue. How he hated to see her so changed.

“Do not be afraid,” Dominic said. “’Tis probably farmers headed to The Stubborn Mule for a drink.”

“Or the two men returning for you.”

A grudging grin tilted his mouth. “If so, and there is another confrontation, I will protect you.”

She glanced at him. “You are injured.”

“A nuisance, aye, but I can still fight.”

God’s teeth, she looked about to scold him. As though he were a dull-witted child who could not even put on his own undergarments without help.

He scowled.

Gisela threw out her hands. “Your wounds need to be tended. You cannot fight when you are wounded.”

Nay? Ha!

“There is no other choice, Dominic,” she said tightly. “You cannot stay here. You must come home with me.”

You must come home with me.

Even as she spoke the words, uncertainty gnawed at Gisela’s frustration. Taking Dominic to her house wove a whole new knot into their relationship, one she had no idea how to face. Just the thought of him and Ewan in the same room made her stomach twist in a most unsettling fashion. However, there was no other option at this moment, apart from leaving Dominic in the stable, and she simply couldn’t abandon him.

Dominic was staring at her with the most curious expression—a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. Almost as if she’d told him they must both strip off their garments and dangle upside down from the rafters.

Trust him to think such.

He cleared his throat. Keeping his voice down, to keep their conversation from whomever stood outside in the yard, he said, “Are you certain ’tis a good idea?”

Nay. ’Twas probably the most foolish idea she’d ever conceived. Somehow, she managed a confident smile. “Of course.”

He pulled his fingers through his hair, wincing at the effort. The men’s voices came from outside again. Her gaze flew to the doorway, tension buzzing so sharply in her veins, she wanted to scream. Reaching down, she snatched up the pot of salve—better to take it than have to buy more—and then gestured for him to follow. She started toward the stable doorway with light, quick steps.

He muttered under his breath.

Stiffness gathered between her shoulder blades. If he made one more idiotic protest⁠—

Straw rustled beside her, and then his strong, firm hand caught her elbow. Memories of Ryle’s commanding grip lanced through her, and she instinctively recoiled, lurching, almost falling in her panic.

Dominic cursed. He instantly released her. His hand fell to his side, while his eyes narrowed, as if to shutter his concern. But, it still shimmered in his gaze. “God’s bloody knees, Gisela. When we are somewhere we can talk, you will tell me why you are so afeared.”

Her mouth tightened at his authoritative tone. So very different from long ago, yet his boldness had likely kept him alive when others perished on crusade. Even as she recognized the toughened warrior he’d become, the maternal part of her surged to the fore.

“When we are somewhere we can talk,” she said quietly, “you will not curse like a foul-mouthed sot. Agreed?” She did not want to spend days trying to stop Ewan from using the same words over and over.

Dominic’s brows raised.

Fie! He had the audacity to look… affronted?

“Also,” she said, keeping her voice low, “when others are about, you will call me Anne.”

“As the baker did earlier,” Dominic murmured. “Why?”

“Because in this town, that is my name.”

“Ah.” With a curious smile, he said, “Are you, also, disguised as someone else?”