Sweet Bea (7 page)

Breeze cleared the trees and took the gentle descent to the village. Fishing nets, strung between stakes to dry like giant spiderwebs, glittered in the moonlight. Warm yellow light spilled from casements onto the green.

She pulled Breeze to a stop. “I will have to go alone.”

Tom reined Parsley in beside her. Badger pulled at the bit before he settled. “Why?”

“Because, we do not want everyone to know what we are doing, or someone will tell Henry for sure. Then where will we be?” Must she explain everything?

“Tucked up safe in our beds, where we should be.” Tom hunched in his saddle. “I am beginning to think we should stop this before we travel any farther.”

“We cannot, Tom.” Beatrice’s heart missed a beat. “You said you would help me.”

“Aye.” Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “But that was foolish on my part.”

“Are you going to keep whining the same old tune all the way to London?” Tom was so blasted stubborn.

“I am not whining. Bea, will you listen to sense before you get us both mired in something we’ll regret.” Badger stamped and Tom tightened his lead rein.

“Well, I shall not regret it.” If Tom didn’t want to help her, he could go cringing back to Anglesea. “Go back, if you like, but I am going to get the man we need.” Tom would make a raw spot if he kept rubbing at his neck. “Come now, Tom. Think of this as a grand adventure. We used to talk of them all the time when we were younger.”

“You spoke of grand adventure.” Tom jabbed his thumb into his chest. “I wanted a farm. I still want a farm.”

“Of course you do.” Beatrice leaned across and patted his knee. “And think how grateful my father will be you helped save the family from certain ruin.”

“Sir Arthur will skin my hide for letting you do this.”

“Nay, he will not. He may skin my hide, but you will receive his gratitude. Not only did you help save the family, but you remained steadfastly by my side to protect me.” She stroked Breeze’s neck. “And if it comes to that, I shall take full blame. My father will have no trouble believing as much.”

Tom grunted. He tapped his fingers against his thigh.

“Besides,” Beatrice said, “if we go back now, there will be a huge furor. My mother will hear of it, for certain, and you know she is not to be worried.”

“Have you not thought this start of yours may well scare her half to death?”

Beatrice’s stomach tightened. She’d steadfastly avoided thinking what would happen if Lady Mary discovered where she’d gone. Beatrice shoved the concern aside. When she brought her father home, her mother would improve. “Nobody will tell her. I stressed that in my message to Faye. Mother is not to be caused any undue worry.”

She trotted forward.

Tom stayed.

Beatrice halted Breeze and turned. “Come along.”

He was at his neck again. “Beatrice, we should turn back.”

Why had she ever thought to involve him? He was ruining everything.

“I am not turning back, Tom. I will find Garrett and he will lead me to London. You”—she glared over her shoulder—“can do as you please. But if you betray me, I will never, ever, ever forgive you. Now, run along, Tom.” She flung one hand toward Anglesea. “Run back to your mother and carry tales with you. Perhaps she will let you hide beneath her skirts.”

“That is not fair.”

Beatrice kept her eyes on the bright moonlight showing the path. Her decision was made. Beatrice the Brave wouldn’t be craven and hide when duty called.

“And that is another thing bothering me about this,” Tom called after her. “Who is this Garrett? I know no one by that name.”

Beatrice let Breeze pick her way down the path. The soil beneath the horse’s hooves was sandy and their pace slowed. She was done with Tom and his questions. She would find Garrett. Her heart gave a happy thump. He would be surprised to see her. Her own boldness thrilled her. How would Garrett react? Would he try to steal a kiss?

Tom’s cursing interrupted her fantasy as he lumbered along in her wake.

There would be no kissing with Tom lurking about and muttering his disapproval.

“Garrett.”

Her voice woke him instantly.

“Garrett.” Beatrice called louder this time.

Beside him, Lilly stirred. He put his hand on her shoulder to hush her.

Lilly stilled.

Beatrice called again, growing more insistent.

“Jesu.” Beatrice stood right outside his hut. He shook Lilly hard enough to wake her.

She opened her eyes and grinned at him. “You are a lusty one.” Lilly caressed him beneath the bedding.

Garrett caught her hand and pushed it aside. “You have to go.”

Lilly blinked at him.

“Now,” he said with more force.

“Garrett, are you in there?”

The latch rattled, and Garrett leapt to his feet. He hauled Lilly from beneath the warm covers. “Do not come in. I am not decent.”

The latch rattling stopped.

“Oh?” Beatrice squeaked from the other side of the door.

He imagined her cheeks going pink.

Lilly stood there, teats out to the world, staring at him.

“Go.”

“Why? And who is at the door?”

“Never you mind.” Garrett gave her a push. “Just leave.”

Lilly set her jaw and cocked one hip.

Jesu, save him from all women. Garrett had no idea what Beatrice was doing outside his door in the middle of the night, but he knew he couldn’t be caught here with Lilly. “The back.” He grabbed Lilly’s clothes from the floor and dragged her toward the rear of the hut.

One of the wall boards was loose and it came away instantly in his hands. He’d fix it in the morning. “Put this on.” He yanked Lilly’s bliaut over her head and tugged it down until her head reappeared.

“What are you about?” Lilly fought her way out of the fabric spitting like a cat.

“Garrett? Is there someone with you in there?”

“Who would be here?” he called back.

Lilly slapped his arms away. “I am here.” Lilly’s eyes narrowed.

“But you should not be.” He jostled Lilly toward the gap in the boards.

“That is not what you said earlier.”

Garrett drew a careful breath. He shouldn’t have let Lilly stay. But with his rude awakening last night by that overbred cur and his men, he’d found her warm presence by his side reassuring.

“Garrett,” Beatrice called. “I must speak with you. It is a matter of utmost urgency.”

“It sounds like Lady—”

“It sounds like nobody.” Garrett was done playing with Lilly. With his hand on the top of her head, he forced her to duck down until she was in line with the opening.

She squawked, but he shoved her rump hard enough to send her tumbling through the gap. “Go.”

“Let me find my clothes, sweeting,” he called. “Unless you would prefer—”

“Nay.” Beatrice giggled.

He found his chausses and tugged them over his hips, fastening his rope belt around the top. He picked up his tunic. Then dropped it. Let Lady Beatrice get an eyeful of what she came here for. His rod twitched at the thought. He wouldn’t have thought her this bold, but the threat of him leaving must have played on her mind. Exactly as he intended.

“Oh, hello, Lilly,” Beatrice said.

Garrett’s heart gave a great jump. He bolted the two steps to the door and wrenched it open.

Beatrice spun around. Her hair was bound in a long braid. Moonlight played lovingly over the delicate lines of her face. Her gaze dropped almost immediately to his bare chest and widened.

Over her head, Lilly made a crude gesture at him.

Garrett made it back.

“You are out late, Lady Beatrice.” Lilly tossed her head and sauntered over. Her bliaut was on backward.

Beatrice started and her shoulders tensed. “Aye.” Movement played along her long throat as she swallowed. “I came to…um…ask Garrett something?” She fidgeted with the edges of her cloak.

He prayed her mortification at being discovered by Lilly kept her from asking too many questions.

“Did you now?” Lilly’s grin was pure evil.

“How is your son?” Beatrice’s voice came high and awkward.

“Oh, he is well, Lady Beatrice.” Lilly’s expression softened. “Growing like a weed, he is.”

“I am sure.” Beatrice smiled at Lilly. “You must be sure to bring him up to the keep over Christmas.”

“I will, Lady Beatrice. Does Sir Henry know you are here?”

“Of course he does.” Beatrice’s forced laughter convinced nobody.

Garrett winced.

“He sent me to speak with Garrett.”

Lilly stared hard at Beatrice.

“Should you not be getting back to your boy?” Garrett made shooing motions with his hands.

“Oh, indeed.” Beatrice nodded. “You would not want him waking up and finding you not there.”

“I am sure you are right, my lady.” Lilly gave him one last look, turned, and ambled away, her ass twitching as she went.

Garrett breathed. That had been too damned close. He turned his smile on Beatrice. “Hello, sweeting. Somehow, I do not think your brother sent you to speak to me.”

* * * *

Beatrice’s knees nearly buckled and she grabbed at the doorframe for support. Her palm touched warm skin. She jerked her hand back, but the imprint of his chest still tingled along her arm.

“I thought I would die when I saw her here.” Her heart was still running like a startled rabbit. “I thought nobody was about.”

“Which brings us to what you are doing here?” Garrett’s hair was rumpled and his chin shadowed with growth. She’d only seen him clean-shaven, not sporting a beard like many other men. He was near naked, save for a small pouch about his neck, alone with her in the midst of the night. Mere steps from where he slept.

Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips.

“Beatrice?” A small smile played across his mouth. His eyes gleamed down at her in a way that made her stomach clench. Wicked, wonderful smile.

“I need you.”

Garrett’s mouth softened and the heat in his eyes reached out as sure as a touch.

She knew that look. Her blood warmed in response.

“Sweeting.” He slid his hands beneath her cloak and caged her hips. Firmly, he tugged her toward him.

Beatrice wanted him to pull her into the dim hut behind them. Fortunately, she remembered Tom waiting for her outside the village. She didn’t think Tom could see, but she didn’t want to take a chance. She pulled away from Garrett. “I need your help.”

Garrett stopped, but kept his hands on her, warming her right through her clothing. “Anything for you.” A small frown creased his brows. He slipped his hands beneath the hem of her tunic.

Beatrice had trouble remembering why she’d come.

“My family.” Her breath grew short. If she rose onto her toes, she could reach his mouth. She could forget everything under the enchantment of his kiss.

“Your family?” His lips twitched as if he read her every thought. He traced the top of her braies, brushing the bare skin of her waist.

“Aye.” Beatrice reached for her scattered thoughts and rounded them up. The future of her family depended on her. Beatrice the Brave would remain steadfast in her quest, even if she wanted to trace the sulky fullness of his bottom lip with her tongue. “There is trouble. I need help.”

His frown deepened. He roamed further, slipped his hands from beneath her tunic and tugged apart the sides of her cloak. He dropped his hands.

Beatrice shivered in the sudden chill.

“What are you about, Beatrice? And dressed like that.” His jaw hardened.

Beatrice struggled to put the words in the right order. “I need to go to London. Tonight. I need to get my father. You could take me.”

“Stop.” He propped his elbow against the lintel. Dark hair tangled beneath his arm. It seemed such an intimate detail.

A hot shiver spread over her.

“Start again.” Muscle rippled across his chest and belly. A trial of hair disappeared beneath the low-slung band of his chausses.

Beatrice drew a shuddering breath. She was making a mess of this, but it was hard to think when he stood there virtually unclothed. “My sister came to the castle yesterday.”

“Your sister?”

The door creaked and she jumped. Anybody could be about. “Aye, Faye, she is escaping from her husband.”

Garrett raised a brow.

“Calder is conspiring with the king to bring charges against my father. They say he has stolen money, but it is not true.” Beatrice reached for him, to impress on him the truth of her words. Her hands touched bare chest.

His muscle jumped beneath her palm.

She lost track of her purpose for a fascinated moment.

“Beatrice?”

“Aye.” Her story. She had come to get Garrett’s help. “My father would never steal from the king. I know he would not. But my father is in London.” His skin was warm and firm, like iron sheathed in silk. Part of her wanted to linger there and let her fingers explore.

“And?”

“And Faye’s husband will attack Anglesea because Henry does not have enough men.”

“What does this have to do with you being here?” His long fingers fastened about the strange, little pouch at his neck.

“My mother is ill, and she must not be worried by any of this. Godfrey says the country needs my father. But we need him too, Garret. Henry will do nothing. So I need to get to my father and tell him what has happened, before it is too late.”

“Beatrice, this is not making any sense.” Garrett clasped her hands and frowned. “I do not understand it all.”

She hadn’t prepared for Garrett’s refusal. He’d always said he’d do anything for her. However, if Garrett refused to take her, it would all be for naught. From the far side of the forge a voice rose in question, another answered. She best make haste before some well-meaning soul discovered her and sent her home. “I heard my uncle and my brother, Henry, talking with my sister. She has come to Anglesea with her boys because her husband is in league with the king. They are accusing my father of having used his position as sheriff to steal money from the king.

“Did he?” His finger tightened on the pouch.

“Of course not. He would never do such a thing.”

“Of course he wouldn’t.” Was that anger in Garrett’s voice? Beatrice peered into his face.