Page 20 of Griffin Food

“Terrible,” I admit.

His lips curve up in a smile. “Hopefully not all terrible.”

“Also hungry,” I admit when he continues to study me.

His expression has a teasing aspect, like he is waiting for more, a further confession maybe.

The teasing smile fades slowly. I feel inexplicably sad, and also confused as to what I did wrong that would make it go away.

He holds out his arm, suddenly so formal and not at all like Lark. He takes me back to the room. Rafe is waiting at the table before the window where breakfast is laid out.

I groan as I tuck into the bacon and eggs, the crusty bread, and the sharp, tangy cheese. There is tea. I’m on my second cup—and on my second plate of food—when I start to feel like myself again.

Only their eyes remain upon me in the manner of men with questions.

My hunger seems unnatural upon reflection. “How many days?”

“Three,” Rafe confirms.

I blink, unable to meet his eyes. “I didn’t realize.” Vulnerability and gratitude slam into me. “Thank you. Both of you. For looking after me and making sure I had water. I’m sure it must have been a frightful experience for you, dealing with my… fever.”

I make the mistake of looking up.

Rafe arches one brow.

He can’t possibly know what it was. I’ve done nothing to make them suspect. Not one thing. “Fever,” I say again, with greater confidence. “It is a family ailment. One I should have admitted was a possibility from the start. I apologize for that. I had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that it might not happen to me. Please know, there is no lasting damage with the… fever… but it might also happen again.”

“Fever.” Rafe says the word in the manner of a man testing the sound of it for truth.

“It’s important to stay hydrated,” I add, babbling now. “And I appreciate you handling my state of undress with the decorum that you did.”

“No problem, lass,” Lark says gruffly. “What any travel companion would do.”

There is something off about this exchange. Like I am missing something. They’ve shared several looks while I was pitching my fever excuse—and before, while I was eating, and in the bedroom when they were helping me dress, now that I think about it.

I have just been through a heat—false heat. My wits are scrambled. There is nothing improper about their demeanor. I dare say they have seen plenty of prettier lasses naked many times. Dealing with me and my fever was likely nothing but a nuisance to them.

They both look very tired when I dare to glance up and study them. “I’m very sorry if it disturbed your sleep. Going on so long as it did.”

“Not a problem,” Rafe says gruffly.

The presence of the breakfast food and the brightness beyond the window tell me it is still morning. All things considered, better if we leave today. The thought of remaining in this tavern, trapped in this room with them, with nothing to do but wallow in bed and think about this, is unbearable.

“What time is it?”

“Close to noon,” Lark says.

“Good, I’d like to set out again today. If that is agreeable with you both?”

“We are fine,” Rafe says. “You were struggling to walk not very long ago. It’s a couple of days to the next village, where we can find lodgings. We’ll need to sleep out in the open tonight. Are you sure you want to travel today?”

“Yes,” I say with more confidence than I feel. Even though I am exhausted, if a little better for eating the food. Better to wear myself out with the ride in the hopes that sleep will claim me thoroughly tonight.

My eyes remain locked with Rafe’s.

There is a long pause before he shares yet another glance with Lark, who shrugs.

Rafe turns back to me and nods. “We’ll gather our things. Prepare the horses. Take your time.”