at Katherine. ‘And if you want a change, sweetheart, you come asking for us at the White Horse.’
‘I might at that,’ she retorted, hoping her relief was not written plain across her face.
With a few more sallies at the unfortunate parson’s expense the two highwaymen mounted up and vanished into the scrubby woodland that fringed the road.
‘Jenny, John—are you all right?’ They both seemed safe enough, walking towards the coach with relieved smiles on their faces.
‘I’ve got a hole through my hat,’ John grumbled, wriggling a finger through the crown. ‘Still, a miss is as good as a mile. Bloody quick thinking, sir,’ he added. ‘I thought we were going to lose every farthing we’d got left.’
‘Oh, Nick!’ Katherine threw her arms round his neck and clung tightly. ‘You were wonderful.’ She had been far more frightened than she had realised while it was all happening, and certainly more so than when she had sought out Black Jack. Then nothing had mattered other than saving Nick; this time people she loved had been at risk for a few pounds.
With his arms full of warm, emotional and grateful young lady, Nick tightened his grip automatically. Something shot through him that blurred his vision and made the blood roar in his ears. It was like striking a spark on to tinder. He was scarcely aware of Jenny and John behind him climbing back on to the box in an undignified scramble to be tactful. All he was aware of was glorious curves pressed against him, the scent of femininity, the trembling of soft arms around his neck.
‘Hrrumph. Are you going to be getting into the carriage, sir?’
Startled, Nick realised exactly where he was. ‘Er, yes, John.’ He swept Kat into the coach, slammed the door and sank back on the battered squabs.
Kat settled herself opposite him, flushed and laughing, apparently with relief rather than any emotional lightning strike as a result of his embrace. Nick dragged air into his lungs and looked at her. Her hair was in disarray, tempting his fingers to rake through it, her face was charmingly pink with excitement and the swell of her breasts, exposed by the neckline he had so roughly pulled down, rose and fell with her laughter. His wife.
Chapter Ten
Nicholas found he could not take his eyes off the woman opposite him. She was enchanting, absolutely enchanting—and she was his wife. He must have been mad to promise her an annulment. If he could just get her to change her mind before they reached his home and she discovered what he had been avoiding for six years, surely she would forgive him for the deception afterwards?
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, for Kat stopped laughing and glanced down. ‘Oh, goodness, just look at this gown.’
‘I am.’
‘It is not funny.’ She was tugging up the neckline in a manner that was utterly feminine, which made him smile. ‘Please pass me my fichu. Thank you.’ She tucked and pinned and, finally satisfied, began to search for hairpins on the seat. ‘Goodness knows what those men thought.’
‘Precisely what I wanted them to think, luckily.’ God, the way she put up her arms to deal with her hair, the graceful line of her body … He shifted uncomfortably on the seat and found himself uncharacteristically lost for words.
Kat finished fussing with her hair, pulled on her pelisse and sat there regarding him with an air of expectation, which, as he continued silent, seemed to subside into something like resignation.
What could he say to her? Usually more than able to talk his way into, and out of, any situation, Nick sat and brooded on opening gambits. Kat, my home is rather … Kat, l am a … My father … Kat, you may be surprised …
Hopeless. He would just have to show her and trust that by then she was tied to him and could not escape. Many young women would not want to escape, he knew that. This one, exuding silent discomfort opposite him, undoubtedly would.
Kat appeared to cheer up as they approached the city and she exclaimed in interest as they caught glimpses of the imposing Minster tower rising over tiled roofs. Their carriage, guided by instructions he had given John that morning before they set out, made its way deep into the heart of York.
The familiar yard of the Crown and Anchor glimpsed through the coach windows was larger than any they had stayed at so far, and the ostlers hurried out to greet the new arrival with an alacrity that spoke of a degree of style in the establishment. Some things had not changed, then; he needed to forestall any betraying welcome.
Kat was frowning again as Nick opened the coach door and handed her down. ‘Is it not to your liking?’ he asked as she stood on the cobbles beside him, gazing critically around her.
‘It looks expensive.’ She was fingering her purse through the stuff of her reticule.
‘More so than anywhere else we have stayed, I agree.’ He had almost recovered his voice now, he realised, only a slight rasping edge when he was tired was left. ‘But I had a yearning for a comfortable bed and a glass of good brandy.’ And to be somewhere familiar, tobe amongst friends after all this time.
He saw Kat shoot him a hasty glance to ensure that his neck cloth was back in place covering the betraying weal on his neck. No doubt she was expecting to be turned away from such a decent inn because he appeared to be some kind of felon.
‘We haven’t much money left,’ she hissed, managing to smile graciously as the men lifted down their small amount of luggage. ‘How many more nights will it take?’
‘After this? Two if we are lucky, three if the weather turns or the roads are bad.’ He regarded her expressionlessly. ‘You think I am being profligate with your money. We have enough to get … to get home and then you will have nothing to worry about.’
Kat looked mutinous as Nick took her arm and steered her firmly towards the inn door. ‘See how you fare trying to get lodgings at a smart inn like this,’ she hissed. ‘You are wearing a coachman’s clothes, driving an old-fashioned coach yourself—we will be lucky to be given a garret if they are busy.’
Being turned away was the least of Nick’s worries at that moment; being welcomed with open arms was more of a threat. ‘House!’ He strode forward into the entrance to intercept a tall, heavily built man who hurried forward, wiping his hands on a voluminous white apron.
‘Excuse me, sir, I was just in the tap and didn’t see you come in.’ He broke off and stared at Nick in the shadowy hall. ‘My …’ His voice trailed away.
‘Your inn was recommended to me,’ Nick said, cutting across the rest of the sentence. He kept his back to Kat and gestured with his hand. The abrupt signal was enough; old Summerhays was no fool. He managed with aplomb to suppress his surprise at seeing a man who had vanished six years ago.
‘I require a room for my sister and her maid and one for myself and my man. Just the one night, if you please, landlord.’
Summerhays nodded briskly, concealing entirely natural speculation about exactly where Nicholas Lydgate might have acquired a sister. ‘Yes, sir. And a private parlour, sir?’
‘Of course.’
The
