lips curved upward in a wistful smile and she turned her head toward his touch—her lips brushed softly against his hand. Justin inhaled sharply and jerked away. The muscle along his jaw twitched as his hands curled into fists. He’d almost fallen into the trap again! A dull throbbing pain took up residence in his head as he turned and stalked back to the fireplace. There would be no more questions. To wonder about someone was to be involved—and that road led to disappointment and pain. It was a road he’d sworn he would never travel again.
The fire snapped and crackled, its dancing fingers of light probing the darkness and highlighting Justin’s long, muscular legs, his lean hips, broad chest and powerful shoulders. He turned away from its warmth, pulled a robe over himself and stared into the shadows. The loneliness was on him again. He didn’t want to face the light.
Chapter Eight
D awn was beginning to lighten the sky. Justin stared at the dull gray outside the window for a moment, then sat up and yanked on his boots. He was tired and ill-humored. He had spent most of the night wrestling with emotions and dreams he had thought dead and buried, and, in the end, was forced to acknowledge he had made a grave mistake. The longings were still there. They had simply been buried under the debris of his disastrous marriage to Margaret. He still wanted someone to love, to share his life with, to love him. Now, through his own machinations, he had a sterile relationship with a greedy little liar. How much of a fool could one man be! He gave a snort of disgust and brushed viciously at his clothes.
Elizabeth awoke at the sound of Justin’s movement. Immediately, the events of yesterday flooded her mind—especially last night’s angry scene. The memory made her feel ill. She took a deep, quiet breath and lay perfectly still watching him from under lowered lashes. Her conscience pricked her when he stooped and began to roll the carriage rugs spread on the floor at his feet. So that was where he had slept. She winced inwardly and drew breath to speak, but before she could begin her apology he made a sound of disgust and straightened. Her shoes were in his hand. He was scowling. Suddenly, he lifted his head and looked her way.
Elizabeth closed her already slitted eyes. The apology could wait! She held her breath and strained her ears to detect his slightest movement over the pounding of her heart. Fabric rustled…footsteps crossed the floor…the door opened and closed.
Elizabeth popped her eyes open, threw off the covers, and ran to slide the bolt into place. Justin Randolph was still angry. And he had every right to be—she had treated him dreadfully. She sagged against the door and let her breath out in a long sigh. Yesterday had been a disaster and—And that was yesterday! This was today.
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and pushed away from the door. She would make a new beginning starting right now. She picked up her bag and reached inside for her soap and towel as she hurried to the washstand. There would be no foolish incidents today!
The weather had turned bitterly cold. Justin lowered his head into the wind and hurried from the “necessary” toward the inn to wake Elizabeth. It was a miserable day to travel, but he had no desire to spend an entire day with her in that tiny room. At least at home he would not be forced to spend every moment in her company. He blew on his hands, rubbed them together and glanced over at the sudden activity in the barn. Daniel was leading the horses out to be harnessed. Good! Now, if Little Fawn had finished altering those moccasins they could be on their way before full light.
Justin blew on his hands again, tucked his chin into his collar and sprinted the remaining distance to the inn. Miserable weather! It was cold enough to freeze a hog’s squeal! With a last disgusted look at the leaden sky, he stomped the snow from his boots and went inside.
She was finished. Elizabeth pushed the ivory comb deep into the pile of curls on her head, dropped her hairbrush into her bag, then ran to the door and slid the bolt free. Now, she had only to don her cloak and shoes. When Mr. Justin Randolph returned he would find her calmly seated in a chair, ready and waiting. Oh, it was good to feel in control again!
Elizabeth smiled, dropped her bag on the floor beside the door and walked briskly to the end of the bed to get her shoes. They were not there. She checked the floor on first one side of the bed, and then the other—her shoes were nowhere in sight. How odd! She had seen Justin Randolph with them in his hands at this very spot. She stood for a moment nibbling thoughtfully at her soft lower lip, then bent and lifted one end of the neatly rolled bundle of carriage rugs at her feet. No shoes. She straightened and gave the rugs a vigorous shake. Nothing. Where were her shoes?
Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged. Justin Randolph was already annoyed with her, and if she delayed their departure again…well…she didn’t even want to contemplate that! She shook her head and quickly rolled the rugs, then turned to the chair and snatched up her cloak to search beneath it. Nothing. Where could her shoes be?
Elizabeth curled her hands into fists and rested them on her hips while she scanned the little room. There was simply no place else to look unless— “Aha!” With the cry of triumph, she dropped to her hands and knees and bent her elbows to peer into the area under the bed. It was too dark to see. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, ducked her head under the side rail and slid forward to grope around in the inky blackness for her shoes.
The latch clicked.
Elizabeth froze as the door opened, then shoved quickly backward as someone stepped inside. She couldn’t be caught under— Her head knocked sharply against the side rail. “Ouch!”
“Elizabeth!” Justin rushed forward.
She gave a nervous little gasp as he grasped her elbow and hauled her to her feet. “You startled me.”
“You surprised me, also. I hardly expected to find you crawling around under the bed.”
Elizabeth pulled her elbow out of his hold. “I was not crawling around.” Her cheeks turned warm as she realized the picture she must have presented to him. “I was only—” She stopped, stared up at him for a moment, then quickly looked down and brushed at the dust on her long skirt.
“Yes? You were only…?”
“Nothing. It’s unimportant.” Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked over to the chair. Determination stiffened her spine as she picked up her cloak and swirled it about her shoulders. She would not delay their departure. She absolutely refused to give Justin Randolph any more fuel with which to feed his flaming dislike of her! She would leave without her shoes.
“What are you doing?”
Elizabeth pulled her hood into place and gave him a cool smile. Here was her opportunity to salvage something of her pride—to repair her tattered dignity and make amends at the same time. “I should think my actions clear enough, sir. I’m preparing to leave.” She fastened the braided loops over the buttons on her cloak, adjusted the hood, then swept grandly toward the door.
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes?” Oh, how satisfyingly cool and aristocratic her voice sounded. That should favorably impress the arrogant Mr. Randolph!
“Have you forgotten something?”
“I don’t believe so.” She reached for the latch. “I assume your groom will fetch my bag.”
“Indeed. But what of these?”
Elizabeth’s heart sank into the pit of her stomach with a sickening thud at his tone of voice. He knew. Somehow, he knew. Her assumed dignity crumpled into a useless pile at her stocking-clad feet. Slowly—reluctantly—she
