Page 21 of No Place in Time

She shifted closer anyway.

“Stop calling me brat, Sir Know-It-All.”

Finn closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, they would decide what came next. But tonight, they were clean and warm. There was a real bed beneath them instead of cold ground. They had eaten properly for the first time in days. The quiet between them felt different now. Not silence, but something closer to peace.

That was something. That was progress.

He listened to her breathing slow and deepen beside him, and finally, he slept.

13

CECILY

1296

Cecily woke slowly, aware first of warmth.

Her head rested on Finn’s shoulder. His chin lay just above her hairline, and when she shifted, she felt the faint scratch of his beard against her forehead. One of his arms lay across her waist, loose and unguarded.

She lay still. The room was quiet. Too quiet. The bed beneath them was narrow, the blanket barely wide enough for two, and during the night she must have turned toward him without thinking. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder. He was solid and warm beneath her.

She did not move. It was better not to wake him. She noticed the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. That he had not pulled away.

When she finally shifted, his arm tightened for a moment, as if even in sleep he was reluctant to let her go.

Then he stirred. His eyes blinked open, unfocused at first. His gaze dropped to her hair against his shoulder, then to his arm around her waist. He drew a breath and released her at once, rolling away from her.

“I… I didn’t realize,” he began.

“Nor I,” she said quickly.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “We should get up.”

“Yes,” she said, rolling away and standing. Finn was out of bed just as quickly.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They stood on opposite sides of the tiny bed, looking at each other. Then, without a word, Cecily combed her hair with her fingers and tied it back with her new ribbon.

Better to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

∞∞∞

They ate in the inn’s common room, bread and a little cheese. Cecily finished her portion before she realized she’d begun.

Finn leaned back in his chair. “So. What do you want to do, Cecily—Lady Cecily?” He smiled as he emphasized her title. “We haven’t had it easy here, but with time and the right tools, I think I could repair the machine. I’ve watched Anton work on it for months. Do you want to go home? Back to our time?”

She stared at the table. “Home,” she repeated. Then she looked up, fire in her eyes. “I would rather die here than go back and marry Lord Alard.”

Finn nearly choked on his ale.

“I mean it,” she said.

“I believe you,” he said. “Just keep your voice down.”

She huffed. “You asked.”

He studied her for a moment. “Then I need to make some money. I need work so we can eat and have a place to live.”