Once or twice she glanced towards Harry's cot but in the darkness it was impossible to know if he was awake or not. Either way it was enough to know he was there. Not that she imagined there would be trouble of any sort now. Between them he and Jack were a force to be reckoned with. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes. In minutes she was asleep.
The morning light revealed that the weather had not improved much. Harry eyed it dubiously through the window as they ate breakfast.
'Do you want to stay here for a while and hope that it stops?' he asked.
'We're so close to our goal now,' replied Elena. 'It seems a pity not to press on. After all, we've been wet before.'
Jack nodded. 'You're not wrong there, my lady.'
'A bit of damp never hurt anyone,' said Concha.
Harry looked at his companions. 'Very well. Onward, then.'
Although he'd felt compelled to offer them the choice he was pleased by their decision. They were tantalisingly close to their goal now. Remaining in this dreary inn held no appeal, and besides, the weather might let up later.
Unfortunately it didn't. It held out all that day and for the two after that. Leaden skies delivered steady rain that soaked through their clothing and turned the road to mud. A series of mean inns provided shelter for the night but, even if the fires smoked and the rooms were not of the cleanest, no one complained. At least they were dry - until the following day when the whole exercise was repeated.
'This will prepare us for England, no?' said Concha as they splashed along a filthy stretch of road. 'It rains often there, I'm told.'
Jack regarded her solemnly. 'It might prepare you for t'south of England well enough, but t'north is a different kettle o' fish.'
'It cannot be wetter than this.'
'Why, in't north of England they'd rate this no higher than mist.'
'Mist! What are you talking about?'
'When it rains there it comes down by t'bucketful for days on end,' he replied. 'It's why t'folk have webbed feet.'
'They do not.'
He raised one eyebrow. 'Have you been to t'north of England?'
'No.'
'Well, then, how do you know?'
'Because you come from there and I'll wager you haven't got webbed feet.'
'That's because I were cured.'
'Cured?'
'Aye, on account of spending so long away from t'place. It were all those years in t'army under t'Spanish sun, I reckon.'
'How can the Spanish sun be a cure for webbed feet? Do Spanish ducks have toes?'
'Of course not. They live in t'water, don't they?'
'Madre mia! I suppose you'll tell me next that these northern English folk are excellent swimmers.'
'Well, oddly enough...'
Behind them, Harry sighed. He glanced at Elena and then they both laughed. He reflected again that laughter suited her very much indeed. Even soaking wet and splashed with mud she was still the most desirable woman he'd met in years.
'Does that man's imagination never fail?' she asked.
'Oh, he's just warming up.'
'So is Concha.'
'I admit to being completely outclassed.'
'I cannot see you as a teller of tall tales.'
His expression grew serious. 'I hope not. With you I would always wish to be truthful.'
'And I with you.'
'Not always, I think.' Seeing her troubled expression he smiled. 'You have not said what you truly think about being dragged the length of the country in the pouring rain.'
'I was not dragged. I came of my own accord. Besides, you warned me what to expect at the outset.'
'Hmm. I did, didn't I?' He paused. 'I also warn you that when we get to England things will be different.'
Her eyes widened a little. 'Oh?'
'To begin with you will be permitted to remain indoors on rainy days, and even dry days if you choose. You will not collect firewood or tend horses or cook food since you will have servants to do those things.'
'Dear me.' She feigned astonishment. 'This sounds like a life of idleness and luxury.'
'It's high time you enjoyed some idleness and luxury.'
'I am not opposed to that.'
'In addition I mean to get you out of those clothes and into something more feminine.'
'You mean you think a pretty gown has more to recommend it than mud-stained breeches? Incredible.'
He grinned. 'I think the gown just has the edge.'
'You will allow that this clothing serves a practical purpose.'
'Indeed it does,' he agreed, 'for now.'
'Well, to be frank, I'm looking forward to putting it aside for more feminine attire.' She grimaced. 'At present I look like something the cat dragged in.'
His eyes gleamed. 'The cat never dragged