blackmailer was about to expose the duke as a bigamist. If the duke was dead, they could not hope to extract funds from him, and as his illegitimate son and false wife, they could not inherit anything from the estate. If he lived, they certainly couldn’t plan on extorting any funds from him because—Christ—because Marian had shot him. Percy could hardly believe it. If the duke lived, they’d be lucky to escape the gallows. He supposed he’d have to run away.
Percy didn’t know where this left him. He didn’t know what his next step needed to be, or what his future might look like. The less he thought about what Marian had done and why, the better. By all rights, he ought to be miserable. And yet he felt strangely—not peaceful, exactly, nor resigned, but somewhere in between.
Kit began to stir well before dawn. Percy, taking this as a sign that it was time to give up any hope of sleep, tried to sit up, only to feel Kit’s arm tighten around him. Kit grumbled something along the lines of “Not yet,” and “Stay,” and Percy was sorely tempted. But he also knew what would come next, and sure enough, he felt Kit go still, heard a sharply drawn breath. And there, that was Kit realizing where he was, who he was with, and what had brought them there.
“I’m so sorry,” Percy said, because he hadn’t said it the day before.
“So am I.” Kit’s voice was sleep rough, and the words were more growl than actual speech. He still hadn’t loosened his hold on Percy, though, so Percy turned in his arms.
“How is your leg?”
“How is my leg?”
“It didn’t escape my attention how badly you were limping by the end of the night.”
“It’s pretty fucking terrible,” Kit said after a moment. “But nothing I haven’t been through before. It’ll be fine to walk on.”
Percy decided to postpone that argument. He got to his feet, gritting his teeth through the pain in his thigh. The pistol ball had torn through about an inch of muscle. The scar would be unsightly and he was afraid nothing could be done to salvage those leather breeches, but the shot had missed both bone and artery; as long as he escaped fever, he would recover. Carefully, he stepped into his riding breeches, thankful for once that they were loosely tailored.
The barn door creaked open, and the little boy stuck his head in. He carried a jug and a basket. “Gran thought you might be hungry. We haven’t any tea or sugar,” he added, shifting from foot to foot.
Percy looked between Kit and the boy. Last night, even through his fog of pain and confusion, he noticed the way Kit looked at the child as if he were seeing a ghost. Kit had said little about his past, but from what Percy had been able to piece together, it was filled with ghosts.
“Thank you,” Percy said, taking the jug and basket from the boy.
“Your horse doesn’t like me very much,” said the boy.
“Balius doesn’t like anyone very much. Including me,” said Percy. “But he’s strong and fast and he puts up with me. Did he try to hurt you?”
The child gave Percy a withering look. “I know how to take care of horses.”
“Ah. Silly me. Thank you for taking care of him for me, then.”
“Dennis comes from a long line of horse thieves,” Kit said after the child left. “So he really does know how to look after horses.”
“Do I need to worry about my horse being stolen out from under my nose?”
“I don’t think those two are still in the business,” Kit said dryly.
Percy uncovered the basket, revealing a pile of oatcakes. He couldn’t have eaten if he tried, so he handed the basket to Kit. Instead, Percy sniffed the contents of the jug. It was beer, probably home brewed, and really not something Percy would have chosen, but he took a long drink anyway. It was bitter and strong, and Percy suspected that given his empty stomach, it wouldn’t be long before he felt the effects. He passed the jug to Kit, but Kit waved it away.
“Dorothy’s beer is too much for me,” Kit said, and Percy realized that apart from a few sips of ale, he had never seen Kit drink anything but tea and coffee.
“Well, I intend to get fully soused, thank you. You’ll have to tie me to the horse.”
Kit snorted. He was being very patient in not asking Percy too