Page 24 of A Knight for Gwenllian

“Of course, of course. Anything for you, you know that.”

Gwenllian wondered what made the man so eager to please. Had Alexander been of assistance to his daughter in the past, fending off a persistent suitor? Had he paid off a debt for the man? Whatever it was, it was clear it had earned him his lifelong gratitude, and she was glad of that, as it would now bring Old John’s salvation.

“Would you send your son to Audley Castle as escort to this man?” Alexander asked, gesturing to the man who had dismounted and was rubbing Starburst’s neck with obvious delight and expertise. The gelding was blinking in appreciation.

“Of course. Thomas will leave in the morning. The man can sleep in the stables with him tonight.”

And so it was decided, as easily as that. “Thank you, you will be compensated for your trouble, of course.”

Henry waved the thanks away. “Ah, don’t worry about that, my lord; I’d rather have your trust than your coin. Now come. You must be thirsty after your ride.”

She certainly was, Gwenllian had to admit, so she followed without a word.

“I have a room you and the lady can use for the night,” Henry was saying as he led them into a surprisingly cozy establishment. She had not been in taverns very often, but the ones she had been to had not been anywhere near as clean and welcoming. “I usually don’t mention it because I’m not running an inn, but you, my lord, are no ordinary customer, and seeing as you are traveling with a lady this time, I thought you might want to use it.”

“Thank you, a room would be most helpful.”

Indeed. Gwenllian could barely hide her enthusiasm at the prospect. They had been on the road for three days now, and though she didn’t mind, she relished the idea of lying on a real bed. Then it hit her. The man had mentioned one room, therefore probably one bed. Would she and Alexander have to share it? It was likely. Would she mind?

Sitting down, she accepted a cup of frothy ale and took a sip so as to hide her smile.

No, she wouldn’t mind at all.

“There you are, my lord, your accommodation for the night.”

Alexander nodded at Henry to signify his satisfaction. The room in question was small but well-furnished and clean, just like the main room downstairs. It would do very nicely. He would never have dared bring Gwenllian to any of the less reputable establishments, where the smell of ale and unwashed bodies competed with piss for dominance in the customers’ nostrils while they drank, but Henry’s tavern was well-kept as could be.

He threw a swift glance in Gwenllian’s direction. What would she make of the prospect of sharing a room with him? She hadn’t said anything in front of the tavern owner, but perhaps she was waiting for them to be alone to voice out her concerns. He would understand and go join the old man in the stables if she preferred to be alone.

“I will have a supper sent to you. Will her ladyship like to make the most of the evening to have a bath?” Henry asked.

Alexander could tell Gwenllian was tempted to accept but didn’t want to be an imposition.

“Yes,” he answered in her stead. It might be her only opportunity to bathe in privacy until they reached her friend, and she would be glad of it.

“I will send one straight away.” The man bowed and exited the room.

“So,” Alexander started once the door was closed. Gwenllian was looking at him with wide eyes. He had better set her fears at rest without delay. “I will naturally sleep on a rug by the fire tonight. Unless you prefer I leave the room altogether?”

“No, I don’t, but you can’t⁠—”

“I can and I will. We both need rest.”

And neither of us is going to get it if we lie next to one another.

As soon as he felt her warm softness against him, he would roll her over and do something that had little to do with sleep—and would only get him into trouble.

To his relief, Gwenllian did not insist he share the bed with her and accepted his suggestion that he lie on the floor. It was the only way he would be able to stay in control. That still left the problem of the bath. He could not stay in the room while she washed. But even if he left, he knew he would be unable to stop himself from imagining everything, just like he had the other night. And then he would get hard.

Again.

It seemed he had done little else than get aroused from the moment his path had crossed that of his little Buttercup.

Just then, a knock was heard, providing a welcome distraction from his lewd thoughts.

“Come in,” he called out.

Two servants entered, carrying a huge wooden tub. They placed it in front of the fire and were soon back with buckets. Alexander and Gwenllian waited in silence, avoiding looking at one another, until the tub was half filled with warm water. Then there was no avoiding the reality any longer.