With that, he collected the rest of her possessions and extended his free hand to her, which she easily accepted. But when he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, she snaked her hand up his forearm and ended up holding his hand again. When he looked down at her, startled by her action, she merely smiled at him. It was a sweet, pretty smile. He tried very hard not to return her smile, unsure of her actions, wondering why she should try to hold his hand so tightly. He was greatly confused. But two seconds of holding out against her smile saw him collapse like a weakling. He smiled back and hated himself for it.
The main room of the tavern was filled with bodies; some sleeping, some still drinking, and still others breaking their fast after a night’s sleep. Rhys took Elizabeau to their table by the hearth and made sure she and her new possessions were comfortably seated before going in search of a morning meal. He kept an eye on her as he waited for the barkeep to return with their food, chuckling inwardly at the man’s daughter and the secret door in her chamber. He turned his back long enough to collect the tray from the man but by the time he turned around, Elizabeau was no longer alone at their table. Robinson had joined her.
“Ah, Rhys,” the merchant greeted him amiably. “I was just telling your wife that I have never seen my merchandise look so lovely. She is positively exquisite.”
Rhys set the tray down in front of Elizabeau. “Aye, she is, and if you leer at her any longer I’ll gouge your eyes out.”
Robinson snorted as he took a piece of bread off of Elizabeau’s tray. “It would be well worth the pain, my friend.” He took a bite and chewed noisily. “Thank God this weather has cleared up, though the roads will be as muddy as sin. Still, we should make decent time today. Perhaps we’ll make it as far as Beaconsfield.”
Rhys pulled up a chair and sat next to Elizabeau, who was busily packing her new clothes into the large satchel that Robinson had brought with him. “Will you be selling your wares there?” she asked the merchant.
“Probably,” he said. “Then it’s on to Gloucester and the Marches. The savages need fine clothes and will pay handsomely for the privilege.” He shoved more bread into his mouth, eyeing the couple seated across from him. “And you? Will you be returning home from a trip to London or are you taking a sojourn from the madness that is London?”
Elizabeau secured the satchel and went for a piece of cheese; she would let Rhys handle the questions, which he did so admirably. “We are returning home,” he said evenly.
“You must have a great castle,” Robinson said, a bit leadingly.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it is evident that you are powerful and wealthy. From the money you spent last night on your wife’s wardrobe, it is clear that money is of no concern to you. I’ve been up all night attempting to figure out whom, exactly, you really are.” He lifted his brows. “An earl in disguise? A marquis? A runaway prince perhaps?”
Rhys was chewing his own bread and cheese. He lifted a black eyebrow at Robinson’s attempt to probe him. He decided to take the nosy old merchant for a ride just to shut him up. He knew the type; they would never have any peace as long as there was a mystery surrounding them.
“Very well,” Rhys suddenly took on a hint of animation; from a man who was perpetually stone-faced, it was a definite departure. “But you must swear you will keep our secret.”
Robinson was very serious. “Of course, Rhys.”
Rhys sat forward, his arms on the table and his big hands carefully folded. “I am Lord of the baronetcy of Rhayder. Chrycan Castle, my seat, is situated on the edge of the Radnor Forest and our village holds nearly five thousand peasants at any given time. Now, the Rhayder baronetcy is known for its unusual populace, mostly people with webbed feet or forked tongues, but I myself find it charming because it is, in fact, my home. I had a brother who was born with an extra set of teeth and I myself was born with a strange affliction that I shall not delve into, but it is certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Now, I do not wish to be bothered by the rabble because everyone knows that Rhayder is a place of curses and cures, which is why I do not travel with a retinue. It draws too much attention and I’m sick to death of healing the sick with the power of my third eye, but that is to be expected with someone of my gift. Do you understand what I have told you so far?”
Robinson was horrified and impressed at the same time. “Of course, my lord.”
“Then you will keep my secret.”
“To the grave, my lord.”
“Good,” Rhys sat back in his chair and took a large hunk of bread with an equally large hunk of cheese. When he noticed that Elizabeau was staring at him as if he had grown another head, he reached out and stroked her hair gently. “Eat your meal, angel. We have a long day ahead of us and you will need your strength.”