silly!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in helpless desperation. “This room is big, there’s a fire. You can’t sleep in the hallway. You’ll catch your death!”
“No.” His gaze didn’t move from her face, his eyes saying so much, his mouth so little. “I can’na sleep in ’ere.”
“Why not?” she protested.
“Because…” He hesitated just a moment before finishing his sentence. “I can’na trust myself around ye.”
“Trust yourself…” She laughed again, she couldn’t help it. “To do what? Not eat me?”
He smiled back at her, but there was no humor in it. In fact, the look in his eyes told her he was far from joking. Everything about him bespoke of the seriousness of his words, even though they might have been spoken in jest.
“That’s na’what I’m hungry fer when I look at ye, lass.”
Sibyl couldn’t answer that. There weren’t words. She felt the heat of his gaze on her body as if he had touched her with his admission, as if he’d undressed her in an instant and had his way with her. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even think.
He seemed to understand her sudden silence. That understanding was in his gaze as he dropped it to the floor and murmured, “G’nite,” for one final time before he pulled the door closed.
Chapter Six
It felt as if no time had passed at all when Kirstin knocked and entered her room in the morning. Maybe it was because it was still dark—there were no windows here, no sunlight streamed in to tickle her nose. Sibyl was still bone-tired but she got up, knowing she had a long way to walk today. And the next. And the day after that. She had no idea how long it was going to take to get back to Rose’s village, but however long it took her, she was going to have to stay off the roads, avoid Alistair’s men, and somehow stay dry, warm and fed.
Had Raife meant it when he said he would escort her wherever she wanted to go? There were no horses here, but if she could travel on a wolf, or even with one, she would feel far safer. The thought of traveling with him made her feel warm, even in spite of the room’s early morning chill.
“G’mornin!” Kirstin called out, smiling as she put a tray onto the table.
“Good morning.” Sibyl stretched and yawned and ventured out, stomach clenching in hunger the moment she smelled the food.
There was a bowl full of something like porridge, a few slices of bread, some soft cheese, and a tin cup of milk. She sat at the table, spooning in delicious mouthfuls of porridge—there was dried fruit, seeds and nuts in it—as Kirstin stoked the fire. It had died down to embers overnight.
“Ye can wear these while yer here.” Kirstin held up the plaid and leather belt Sibyl had taken off the night before, the same one she’d worn to tend Laina. “We’re doin’ our best t’wash and mend yer dress.”
“Thank you.” Sibyl made a face just thinking about that green velvet dress. “How is Laina this morning?”
“Better, thanks t’ye.” Kirstin smiled her gratitude.
Sibyl let the girl dress her. She would have insisted on doing it herself, but she wasn’t familiar with how it all worked. The plaid had loops the belt went through, and then the belt cinched at her waist, over the shirt she’d worn to bed. It was all very convenient, she thought, as Kirstin arranged the plaid fabric over her shoulder, tucking it back into the belt.
“I feel naked,” Sibyl murmured, glancing down at her bare legs and feet. She touched her long, uncovered hair. She wasn’t used to going around without some sort of head covering. It was common in Scotland, she’d noticed, but English ladies didn’t go out without a hat. Kirstin had taken her corset along with her dress, and Sibyl discovered she could take a full breath for the first time in months. She hadn’t felt this free in a long time.
“Ye look lovely.” Kirstin combed Sibyl’s hair as she finished eating her porridge and
“No.” His gaze didn’t move from her face, his eyes saying so much, his mouth so little. “I can’na sleep in ’ere.”
“Why not?” she protested.
“Because…” He hesitated just a moment before finishing his sentence. “I can’na trust myself around ye.”
“Trust yourself…” She laughed again, she couldn’t help it. “To do what? Not eat me?”
He smiled back at her, but there was no humor in it. In fact, the look in his eyes told her he was far from joking. Everything about him bespoke of the seriousness of his words, even though they might have been spoken in jest.
“That’s na’what I’m hungry fer when I look at ye, lass.”
Sibyl couldn’t answer that. There weren’t words. She felt the heat of his gaze on her body as if he had touched her with his admission, as if he’d undressed her in an instant and had his way with her. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even think.
He seemed to understand her sudden silence. That understanding was in his gaze as he dropped it to the floor and murmured, “G’nite,” for one final time before he pulled the door closed.
Chapter Six
It felt as if no time had passed at all when Kirstin knocked and entered her room in the morning. Maybe it was because it was still dark—there were no windows here, no sunlight streamed in to tickle her nose. Sibyl was still bone-tired but she got up, knowing she had a long way to walk today. And the next. And the day after that. She had no idea how long it was going to take to get back to Rose’s village, but however long it took her, she was going to have to stay off the roads, avoid Alistair’s men, and somehow stay dry, warm and fed.
Had Raife meant it when he said he would escort her wherever she wanted to go? There were no horses here, but if she could travel on a wolf, or even with one, she would feel far safer. The thought of traveling with him made her feel warm, even in spite of the room’s early morning chill.
“G’mornin!” Kirstin called out, smiling as she put a tray onto the table.
“Good morning.” Sibyl stretched and yawned and ventured out, stomach clenching in hunger the moment she smelled the food.
There was a bowl full of something like porridge, a few slices of bread, some soft cheese, and a tin cup of milk. She sat at the table, spooning in delicious mouthfuls of porridge—there was dried fruit, seeds and nuts in it—as Kirstin stoked the fire. It had died down to embers overnight.
“Ye can wear these while yer here.” Kirstin held up the plaid and leather belt Sibyl had taken off the night before, the same one she’d worn to tend Laina. “We’re doin’ our best t’wash and mend yer dress.”
“Thank you.” Sibyl made a face just thinking about that green velvet dress. “How is Laina this morning?”
“Better, thanks t’ye.” Kirstin smiled her gratitude.
Sibyl let the girl dress her. She would have insisted on doing it herself, but she wasn’t familiar with how it all worked. The plaid had loops the belt went through, and then the belt cinched at her waist, over the shirt she’d worn to bed. It was all very convenient, she thought, as Kirstin arranged the plaid fabric over her shoulder, tucking it back into the belt.
“I feel naked,” Sibyl murmured, glancing down at her bare legs and feet. She touched her long, uncovered hair. She wasn’t used to going around without some sort of head covering. It was common in Scotland, she’d noticed, but English ladies didn’t go out without a hat. Kirstin had taken her corset along with her dress, and Sibyl discovered she could take a full breath for the first time in months. She hadn’t felt this free in a long time.
“Ye look lovely.” Kirstin combed Sibyl’s hair as she finished eating her porridge and
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