Page 25 of A Lover for Lady Jane (The Welsh Rebels #5)

As she bit into the sweet, she made the mistake of looking at him.

His eyes were two glittering sapphires. He, too, it seemed, was reliving the moments of intimacy they had shared in the hay and imagining her hands holding him in place against her most intimate place.

For a moment, tension sizzled in the room, hot and bright as fire.

Jane swallowed her mouthful of tart with difficulty.

“So? What do you think? You will know better than anyone if they taste like Avice’s.” Sian’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“It’s delicious,” Jane said honestly. The sweet was indeed reminiscent of the famous tarts they ate at Sheridan Manor. “I do think you are getting there.”

A beaming smile stretched her sister’s lips. “Oh, I’m glad.”

“So, now that you’ve eaten and drunk your fill, perhaps you could tell us why you are here with a stranger when two weeks ago you decided to stay in England?”

Christopher, as per usual, did not shy away from confrontation.

Nevertheless, Jane took the time to finish her tart before launching herself into the tale of her abduction and subsequent escape.

By the time she went silent, Christopher’s eyes had gone as hard as steel and Sian was aghast. She shot up to her feet and walked over to Griffin, tears in her eyes.

“Oh, my lord, I cannot thank you enough for what you?—”

“I am no lord,” Griffin cut in, looking uncomfortable.

Sian waved the comment away. “Lord or not, you deserve every praise for what you did, and I’m sure my father will agree. You saved his daughter—and very likely his life too.”

“Yes, he will be grateful. The only problem is,” Jane observed, “in order to get to him, we have to get past the men lying in wait for us.”

“How can we help?” Christopher again, blunt and to the point. He nodded approvingly when she told him what she and Griffin had decided to do earlier that day. “A sound plan.”

“I think so. Only, we need you to keep Eryr, Griffin’s stallion, here. He is too distinctive not to give us away. Geraint will recognize him as soon as he sees him.”

“He can be stabled with Warrior and Angel, that is no problem. And Sian and I will ride ahead of you to warn your family of your upcoming arrival so they can keep an eye on the gate in case there is a problem.”

Jane smiled at him. That was a good idea. Given the gravity of the situation, one more precaution couldn’t hurt. “Let’s make sure we go over the last details before going to bed.”

Being so close to victory she didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Tomorrow, one way or the other, she and Griffin would be inside Castell Esgyrn—and safe at last.

“So. It looks as if you and I are going to sleep on the hard floor tonight,” Christopher said, nodding toward the inside of the cottage where the two sisters were chatting merrily.

The women had decided earlier that Jane would sleep with Sian, like they had until very recently.

The marital bed was situated in a little room at the back of the cottage, an ingenious arrangement ensuring the couple some welcome privacy whenever they needed it.

Except that tonight, husband and wife would not lie in it.

Christopher had not raised any objections when Sian had suggested the two men sleep in the main room, even though it seemed to Griffin that the sacrifice cost him dearly.

He understood his disappointment all too well.

Any sane man would rather share his bed with a warm woman than lie on the earthen floor next to a near stranger.

“Come. Let us drink, so I can forget I won’t be able to enjoy my wife’s caresses for the first time since our wedding day.”

Griffin lifted his cup of mead all too readily, hoping it was strong, for he, too, had something to forget.

Tomorrow he would face Jane’s father. It was safe to say he did not relish the prospect, as he was not quite the hero everyone seemed to think him.

Granted, he had saved Jane from Geraint’s clutches, which would earn him Lord Sheridan’s gratitude, but he, a humble farmer’s son, had also deflowered her, which would almost certainly cause Connor Hunter to erupt in righteous fury when he found out about it.

And who could blame him? Say what old Myfanwy might, Griffin had aimed too high in this occasion.

“By the way, I’m sorry for suspecting you of foul play earlier,” Christopher said, taking him by surprise. Sian’s husband didn’t seem like a man prone to offer apologies or even justify his actions to anyone.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. In your place, I, too, would have been suspicious.” In reality, he had been reassured to see the man take Jane’s safety so seriously. After all, no one here knew him, there was no reason to trust him. Her brother-in-law had been right to be on his guard.

“You know, your English is really quite good for a Welshman. As good as my wife’s, which is saying something.”

“That’s because I’m half-English. My mother was from Nottingham.”

The brow over the left eye, the blue one, arched. “Was she now? That’s interesting.”

Griffin barely refrained a scoff. This was the first time his situation had been described as interesting.

But then again, Christopher himself was English, so he was bound not to see any problem with having a mother born in England.

Still, it was refreshing not to be judged or mocked or despised, or any other of the things he’d been over the years.

Perhaps he had inadvertently found the secret to a more peaceful, satisfying life.

If he left Wales or at least found a place to live where his origins would be no reason for contempt, he could be spared the constant criticism.

His gaze flicked over to the hill where Castell Esgyrn’s tower glowed.

Its inhabitants were either English, or half-English.

The only two Welsh ones, Sian and Lady Sheridan, had married English men.

Clearly in such a place he would be allowed to live his life free of insults.

Damnation, thinking this way was the last thing he needed. Half-English he may be, but he was not noble. He did not belong there.

Griffin emptied the rest of the cup in one gulp.

“Time to get some sleep, I think,” Christopher said, standing up from the bench. “Are you coming?”

“In a moment.”

Alone in the darkness, his mind slightly addled by drink, Griffin started to wonder. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to face Lord Sheridan after all. Once Jane was safe with her family, he could leave. There was no reason for him to stay longer than a few moments.

Could he disappear as soon as he had delivered her to Castell Esgyrn?

No, of course not, that would be the cowardly way out.

Could he ask her not to mention what had happened in the barn to anyone?

Of course not, he could not let her face her future husband’s ire on their wedding night, when he found out she was not a virgin.

Could he repair the wrong he had caused her by offering to marry her?

Of course not. He was a nobody. A union between them would be an aberration.

There was no solution to his dilemma.

Racked with guilt, Griffin stared at the star-strewn sky stretching high above him.

These pinpricks of light had been around since the dawn of time and would continue to exist long after he was gone.

His existence would be a blink in the history of humanity.

He was already seven and twenty, he should do his best to give meaning to his life.

And here he was instead, stealing a fleeting moment with a woman he had no right to, wasting his time, doing something that would lead nowhere, dreaming of someone who could never be his.

He emptied the last of the mead and went back to the cottage. Tonight he had dreamed his last.

Tomorrow he would be sent back to his rightful place.