was alarming, though she knew it was merely desire for an heir. She should do her duty swiftly and produce one. Then his lordship might leave her alone.
She tried to sidestep the prickling awareness that she might not find accepting Lord Wolf in her bed such a hardship.
‘I still say cornflowers for your hair,’ Mary muttered, then fell silent under Eloise’s stare.
It had been important to bring a maidservant with her as a chaperone, even with her own father as one of the party, but she would have preferred to bring someone less talkative. Since none of the other maids could be spared, Mary had been assigned to her. The girl was several years older than her, and did not seem much in awe of her now they had left court.
Still, it was a long journey to the cold reaches of the North Riding, and there would be few at home who knew so much of courtly life. Mary would at least be able to make her gowns and dress her hair in the latest fashions; as Lady Wolf she would be expected to look more elegant than she had ever looked at home, and a maid who had served the queen’s ladies would make her the envy of her neighbours.
‘Let’s try to get some sleep, shall we?’
Mary nodded her assent and settled back, closing her eyes, though the likelihood of getting much sleep was remote with the litter swaying so violently.
The wagon bearing them took a sharp bend and Eloise swayed, clutching at the seat rail. The curtain blew back momentarily in the gusting wind, and she caught a glimpse of Lord Wolf riding alongside the litter.
The day was cold and grey. Cloaked against the wind, Wolf sat upright in the saddle, gloved hands resting lightly on the reins, his head turned away. At that moment, as though sensing her gaze, he looked round and their eyes met.
Then the curtain dropped again.
She lay back, trying in vain to sleep, the image of her bridegroom burnt into the darkness behind her closed lids.
It was dark before they reached the wayside inn where they would break their journey that night. It was a small remote tavern at the foot of a steep hill, not so welcoming as the bustling place they had stopped at the night before. A man came out with a lantern to light the way while another carried their baggage inside; both leered at her and Mary in the draughty inn courtyard, only looking away when Lord Wolf swung down from his horse and began issuing abrupt orders.
Eloise stretched her aching legs, glancing up at the wintry night sky where the first stars were coming out. She was glad their journey had ended for the day, sore and tired after so many hours spent in a swaying litter. She was beginning to think even riding would be preferable. But of course her father would never allow such a thing, for the roads were too dangerous this far north and unsuitable for a woman on horseback.
‘Hurry up inside,’ Lord Wolf said curtly, taking her by the elbow and almost pushing her through the narrow passageway into the inn.
He spoke a moment with the surly-faced inn-keeper, checking their provision of chambers, then gestured Eloise and Mary toward the cramped and winding stairs to the first floor.
Thrust into a bedchamber with little attempt at civility, her maid following after with a candle, Eloise turned to glare at him. ‘My lord!’
‘You’ll want to rest a short while before supper,’ Wolf commented, ignoring her fury at this treatment. His gaze rested a moment on her creased cloak and gown. ‘And perhaps change your attire.’
‘I should prefer to eat in my chamber,’ she told him coldly.
‘You kept to your chamber all yesterday evening,’ he pointed out. ‘Tonight I wish you to dine downstairs with us, where you can meet some of our companions on this journey. But have a care what you wear. This is a small place and unused to unmarried female travellers. No doubt you saw the way those ruffians eyed you in the yard.’ His smile disturbed her. ‘I would not wish to have to defend your honour.’
She
Learning to Kill: Stories