Page 16 of To Desire

Chapter 9

The morning began as expected after riding more in a day than she had this past year. Though the bed had been welcome, climbing back into the saddle had not. Every bump was a reminder that joining Darien had been a difficult decision in more ways than one.

Her mother. The reputation she claimed not to care about, though it still weighed on her nonetheless. The dangers ahead. Her attraction to the earl’s son.

And her backside. She could not forget her tender backside.

Reaching up with one gloved hand, Liana pulled her cloak tighter. The day had begun as cloudy and gray and had not improved. The wind picked up in a way that, if Liana had not known any better, would signal a storm was coming. She considered calling ahead to Darien, the heavily wooded trail narrow enough for only one, when he slowed to a stop, as if he’d heard her mind.

Turning, he pointed to the west. “A storm. One we would not wish to be caught in.”

“What do we do?” she asked. Since they’d left the inn, they’d passed no shelter.

“We will not make it to the abbey. Can you ride through the woods?”

“Aye,” she said, wondering why such a thing might be difficult. She found out not much later as Liana followed Darien off the path. Fighting off branches and ducking twice, lest she be hit with an errant one, she could hardly see Darien in front of her. The wind, no longer hinting at a storm but warning of an impending one, blew Liana’s hood from her head more than once.

Liana was so intent on staying atop her mount, it was only when the decrepit cottage appeared directly in front of her that she understood their destination. They’d arrived just in time. As the first drops of rain came down, Darien dismounted and held his arm out to her.

“Go inside and stay dry,” he said. “I will see to the horses.”

She had no time for a response as those few drops of rain suddenly became a deluge. Without delay, she pushed open the door and stepped into an obviously very abandoned small space. Old wooden furniture was covered in dust and cobwebs. The fireplace, large but cold, put off a musty smell in the air. The owner was well read; dusty books were scattered everywhere. Light that filtered through small windows, along with the sudden crack of thunder, lent to the cottage’s eerie, nostalgic atmosphere.

There was something about this place . . .

Closing her eyes, Liana allowed the cottage’s energy to flow into her. Blocking out the sights and smells, she instead felt the peace and calm this place brought with it. After a few moments, Liana opened her eyes and, spying an old rag, she went about dusting off the low wooden bench in front of the hearth. Its intricate carvings were at odds with the rest of the cottage’s simple furnishings. After dusting the bench and wooden chairs, she picked up a few old blankets she found, took them as far away from the fireplace as possible, and shook them out.

Warming with her work, Liana took off her cloak and laid it on one of the cleared chairs just as Darien burst through the front door with two saddlebags. Rushing to take hers, she apologized. “I could have brought this with me inside. I did not even think to aid you but ran for cover,” she said as Darien laid his own large bag down.

He was soaked.

“What sort of knight would I be to allow a woman to get wet while carrying your bag?”

“I am not that sort of woman,” Liana said as Darien took off his very wet cloak.

“What sort?” he asked as she opened the leather bag, looking for her pouch.

“The sort that must be tended to.” Finding the pouch, she then took out the necessary dried herbs, oils, and a flint stone. Back in the bag, she found and pulled out the small bowl and pestle. Heading back toward the fireplace, she placed the bowl on one of the cleared-off chairs and mixed the herbs with flammable properties with a few drops of oil. Sensing Darien behind her, watching her work, Liana struck the flint against the side of her stone bowl and used the spark to catch her herb mixture aflame.

Liana had already spotted the dried wood stacked inside the hearth—as if someone had been preparing to light a fire before abandoning the cottage—so she took the ground herbs to the hearth and scattered the crushed herbs atop the wood. The fragrant dust settled into the cracks like tinder waiting to ignite.

With no doubt it would work, having done this many, many times, she waited.

When the wood caught fire, she turned toward Darien and laughed at his expression.

“I have never seen a fire started in such a manner. What is that?” he asked of the empty bowl. She assumed he meant the herbs that had been inside it.

“If I shared all of my secrets, you’d have no need for me any longer.”

Darien’s eyes hooded slightly. “You wish for me to have need of you?”

If he were any other man, Liana would think he flirted with her. But this was the Earl of Ellswood’s son. He did not flirt with women such as her.

“Would you have my honest answer?”

Darien moved toward the fire, removing his boots. Though his cloak had kept him mostly dry, his leather boots appeared soaked through.

“Always.”