If He's Noble (Wherlocke #7)

Primrose felt her heart clench with sorrow and pain. This man had killed for her. A part of her wanted to know how he felt about that but she silenced it. She knew little about men who did battle but she suspected it was not something they easily shrugged aside when that fight caused a death, not even when there was no real choice in the matter. She had caused him to get blood on his hands and she cursed her aunt for driving them to this point.

It was almost an hour before Bened spoke, surprised at how comfortable the long silence had been. “I think we shall have to spend the night outside,” he said.

“Sleep on the ground?”

“Aye. We will never make the next village until after dark and I do not want to ride into a village when there are so many shadows to avoid or peer into.”

“Ah.” She frowned and looked around. “I have never slept outside.”

“Never? Not even when you were a little girl?”

“Never. Why should I have? I had a nice room and a warm bed at Willow Hill. Once my mother passed, we never traveled much or far enough to warrant it. Simeon must have since he went hunting or fishing with Papa.”

“You never went hunting or fishing, either?”

“No. Is that something I should have been doing? Once I heard it required such things as worms impaled on hooks, I had no interest in it. I preferred just going on nice long rides with Papa and, sometimes, Simeon. We never rode long enough to need to sleep out on the ground, either.”

“Not to worry. I have done it many times and in several countries so I can set us up comfortably.”

Primrose frowned and looked around as he led them off the road to a small glen. It was pretty and the ground looked clean. It also looked hard. It was not until he began to spread out the roll of bedding he had been carrying on the back of his horse that she recognized the enforced intimacy of what they were about to do. It was not until he went to her horse and pulled off another roll of bedding that she realized that had somehow appeared since she had left Willow Hill.

“When did I get that?”

“In the last village,” he answered as he spread that bedding out not far from his own. “I became aware of the lack and knew that at some point we might have to camp.”

“I must give you the money I have. It has occurred to me that you have been paying for everything yet I have brought money for this journey. And I can see you thinking of how to refuse it. Do not bother.”

“It does not make a man comfortable to accept money from a woman.”

“Not even when it is her business that has given them the need for it?”

“I do not need it.”

There was the definite hint of manly insult behind those words and she almost smiled. Men’s pride could be a strange thing. No woman would concern herself. If two women traveled together, both paid a share. Somehow she had to make him understand that that was all she was doing, carrying her own weight as much as she was able.

“I began this journey. You are here because you know I needed someone to protect me and help me find my brother. I was fully prepared to pay my way for the whole journey. All I mean to do is give you that money. If naught else, it will make it easier for us to continue to afford the rooms and meals we keep having to pay for at the inns along the way. It is not even payment for being my guard, just a sharing of costs. If I was traveling with a woman, a friend, it would not only be readily accepted but expected.”

Bened sat back on his heels and looked at her. He realized they were having a clash of pride. She needed to help pay and he needed to be the one who took care of her. Yet, she was right, if it was two women, or two friends, or even two relatives, a sharing of the actual cost of the journey would be welcome, even expected. He would just make very sure that he used only half, no more and no less.

“Then set it with my belongings and we will split the costs for the rest of the journey.”

She wanted to point out that he should take what was owed for the journey costs thus far but bit back the words. It was all the concession she would get and pushing harder would then start to prick his pride. Nodding, she hurried to collect her funds and tuck them into his saddle packs. By the time she returned to his side, their bedding was set out. It did not look much more welcoming than it had rolled up and sitting behind the saddle but she promised herself she would not complain.

His reasoning for the need to spend the night on the ground was sound. Villages at night were a warren of shadowy places where their enemies could easily hide. If her aunt’s men had arrived first they would also know the grounds they fought on much better than Bened did. He always reconnoitered when they entered a village and entering it at nightfall would make that almost impossible and dangerous.