Page 16 of Inconvenient Honor
“Sheep, my lord?”
“There are always sheep. This is Dorset.”
As if at his command, twenty minutes of walking brought them to a sheep pen. Lily’s outburst when she bumped into the rough stone wall in the darkness unleashed a frenzy of “Baa” from the pen’s unseen inhabitants. The setting moon left them in gloom.
“Can you see a farmhouse?” she asked between chattering teeth.
“No, but I can barely see my hand.”
“Look there,” Lily said, “across the enclosure. Do you make out a shape?”
He took her hand; her fingers, icy even through her gloves, laced with his. Together they groped along the stone enclosure until they came to a rough wood structure. The stench told them it was no house long before they reached it.
“Storage barn?” she suggested.
“Shearing shed,” he guessed. Will had gone on at some length about shearing one night. Richard wished he had paid attention.
He tightened a grip on her hand and looked in every direction. When he saw no glimmer of light or other sign of humanity, he tossed about for an alternative. This close, he could feel that she had begun to shiver violently. He needed to get her out of the wind.
“If the racket those creatures made didn’t bring the farmer, he must be at some distance,” he said. “This appears to be our only choice.”
She tried to open her mouth, but her teeth chattered too rapidly to speak. If she meant to disagree, she failed.
If I don’t warm her, she’ll fall ill.
He pulled her into the shed, and into his arms
Chapter Seven
Warmth, wonderful warmth.
Lily burrowed deeply into it, shaking uncontrollably. Her nose nestled into the soft lawn of Richard’s shirt, and she let the scent of sandalwood, shaving soap—the scent of man—fill her senses.
“Easy,” he soothed. “Let me warm you.”
His heavy greatcoat fell around her. In the protective cocoon of his arms, the odor of sheep receded, the ache in her legs eased, and her sense of threat in the darkness yielded to a sense of safety. She snuggled against him.
“Better?” he slid his hands up her back to her shoulders, as if to push her away.
“Some,” she replied, cuddling closer. The hands slid back down, sending warmth through her. “I’ve made a mess of it, haven’t I?”
He didn’t answer.
“Too much a diplomat to agree with me?” she mumbled from deep in his coat.
“Too intelligent to state the obvious,” he responded.
I acted without thinking. I put us both in jeopardy. I led him through muddy fields and sheep dung for heaven’s sake. And Volkov will know. She shivered again.
“More cold?” he asked. He held her tight.
Volkov will know and Sahin will kill his agent. Papa!
The weight of it crushed her. Wet tears overflowed, ran down her cheeks, and soaked hisshirt.
Richard jerked away. “Please, no tears,” he whispered. “It won’t help and?—”
A sob escaped her and then another.
