Free My Lady Faye by Sarah Hegger Page A

sins?”
    “Heinous.” His eyes twinkled. “Debauchery is the very least of it.”
    Faye basked in his smile. It warmed the empty place inside her. They had not had many occasions for laughter betwixt them. She returned the smile. “You have been warned.”
    “Still.” He glanced at the table. “It would be for the best if we stayed quiet until we depart.”
    “We will sleep here?” The wall pressed hard against her back. At Anglesea, she had a huge bed, draped in peacock-blue silk and embroidered with swathes of flowers. The same bed little Arthur would rest in tonight. She sent a quick prayer homeward to him.
    “It will grow quieter.” Gregory split the loaf and handed her half. “Once people have eaten, many will clear for the night and we can stretch out.”
    With her buttocks aching from the dirt floor, she could muster no enthusiasm for the idea. “Indeed.”
    * * * *
    Warm and soft, Faye rested against his side, the fragrance of her hair teasing him. She was awake. Lids lowered, staring at the inn about them.
    As the evening settled into dark it grew quieter. Many of the occupants chose to sleep outside or to travel through the night.
    Her delicate hands were tucked between her knees. He could hold both her hands in one of his. A fierce wave of protectiveness shook him. His to protect and cherish. Nay, she was not his. She had never been his and could never be. The knowledge gripped like a fist in his gut.
    A group of men drank cup after cup of strong mead beside the empty hearth. Gregory would wager they were not farmers. Their tunics were dirty, but finer than most of the folk in the tavern. Tradesmen or guildsmen were his best guess and getting drunker as the night drew on. They bore watching.
    People spread on the benches throughout the tavern, soft grunts and snores rose in the air. A family, two parents and their five offspring, huddled closest to him and Faye. The children slept beside their mother, but the father stayed awake, his glower on the group by the hearth.
    He nodded to Gregory. He watched the group, too.
    The ground beneath his ass was cold and hard.
    Faye shifted and settled. His lady was not accustomed to such rough treatment. If he could, he would see her resting on silk and velvet.
    Laughter rose from the drinking men and Faye started. One of them stumbled to his feet and staggered toward them. His foot tangled in a sleeper in his path, he tripped, and cursed the air blue about him. The sleeper raised his head, grumbled and settled down again. The drunk wove with exaggerated care through the bodies littering the floor. “Need to piss.”
    He lurched to a stop beside Faye and pulled out his tool.
    Dear God, Faye shouldn’t see this.
    Faye stiffened and pressed her face against his shoulder. Gregory tugged her closer as the man aimed a stream of piss through the window. Faye’s trembling shook through him. A lady such as Faye was too delicate for a place like this.
    A sparkling blue eye peered up at him, alight with mischief. She was laughing.
    The man put himself away and wiped his hand down his tunic.
    A smile tugged at Gregory’s mouth. He should have known better than to think she would wilt into a lump of matronly outrage. He forgot the spine of steel that ran through her.
    Her hair tickled his chin. The color of clearest mead and softer than silk, her new curls clustered about her face like a naughty cherubyn. A delicious, tempting cherubyn with the lush curves of a woman grown. Now he tortured himself and to no good purpose.
    She raised her head from his shoulder, her blue eyes twinkled up at him. “At least his aim was straight.
    Sweet Heaven, but her smile slayed him. The sedate loveliness of Faye’s features warmed and sweetened, her full, red mouth invited him to join her. Gregory chuckled and turned his head away. Far safer not to get drawn into the magic of her. “The place is fairly basic.”
    She snorted and settled. “I wish the floor were not so hard.”
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