that his heart cried out for. He dropped his overheated head to his hands. What was he supposed to do now?
The door flew open and Kat walked out holding a steaming bowl of porridge. “Not as tasty as bacon and crumpets, but it’s filling and warm, which is more than we’ve had of—What’s wrong?”
Setting the bowl on the bench, Kat dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands ran down his arms, up his neck, across his face. “Are you in pain? Dizzy? I told you to stay in bed. Ellie, help me get him back upstairs.”
“No, no. Just, em, chilled.” His head snapped up to see a blanket draped over her arm. “Good, you brought something.” He grabbed the blanket and threw it around his shoulders to cover the exposure keenly bearing down on him.
Somewhat appeased, she tucked the edges of the blanket around him and sat next to him. “Ellie, did you not want lunch? Or do they consider this breakfast? Though it’s going on four o’clock, they did say this was the last meal before they open for business.”
Ellie laughed. “Never thought I’d see you say that with a straight face, and no, I’m not hungry. Had a big lunch, or was it breakfast? Their meal schedule is off.”
Barrett swallowed his laugh on a spoonful of bland porridge. Two English ladies debating the mealtimes of a whorehouse was not a conversation he wanted to get into the middle of.
Shifting her gaze between her sister and him, Ellie tapped a small pebble into the dirt with the toe of her shoe. “Guess I’ll go see if our clothes are ready to take off the line. Don’t know how much longer I can stand being stuffed into this dress.”
Kat tugged at her own plunging neckline and nodded. “The sooner the better.”
Silence settled around them as Barrett dug into his porridge as if it were a steak and potatoes while Kat gazed quietly at the courtyard and empty vineyards far beyond. Accustomed to all the flurry usually accosting them, the constant danger stalking them, and the ever-present falsehoods to keep in place, how peaceful it was to simply sit together without words.
Polishing off the porridge, he chugged back the tankard of water she’d brought out. He’d ask for more, but by the looks of the women back inside, they needed more nourishment than he did. Even if it tasted like old wood chips. “Did you get plenty to eat?”
“Yes, though I hated taking portions away from those girls. Two of them are barely sixteen.”
Tightness pinched his chest. Same age as his mother when he was born, and probably in a place too similar to this one. He pulled the blanket over his shoulder as it slipped down. “We need to leave by nightfall. Dangerous to cover ground at night, but more dangerous to keep to the roads in the day. We can reach Salbris in two, maybe three, days.”
“More like three to four. We’re not leaving tonight.” She shifted on the bench to face him. Dark circles haunted her eyes. “I am not dragging your body for however many kilometers it is to Salbris because you simply needed one more night to rest. Madam has already given consent, so that’s all there is to it.”
His rebuttal collapsed on a huffed breath. “So you’re calling the shots from now on, are you?”
“Yes, and I think I quite like the change.” She grinned. The lipstick long gone, her lips flushed rose. Delicate, perfectly shaped, inviting.
Desire swept through him. He brushed his thumb over her satiny cheek. Her skin was white as milk, and it took only a moment for the blood to sweep to the surface and tint it an exquisite shade of pink. Her black eyelashes swept down to graze her cheeks as gracefully as butterfly wings, concealing the green glinting from the inner depths of her blue eyes. She tilted her head to greet his mouth, the corners of her lips curling up as he brushed against her. He angled his head to fully cover her mouth with his own . . . and bumped his nose into her cheek.
He jerked back and covered his pulsating nose with his hand. “Ow!”
“Let me see.” Kat pushed his hand out of the way and gently touched the bridge and tip. He tried to squirm away as the angry sensation pulsed to his brain. “Just hold still. You move worse than when we have to give the eardrops.”
“You’re not the one