“Come along,” he said steadily, but then he noticed she was cradling her left arm. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”
Gavriella wasn’t sure what to say. The man had hurt her, but she didn’t want to tell the man called Wolf because she didn’t want him to think she wanted him to tend her or, worse, punish the man who hurt her. She didn’t want him to feel any sense of responsibility towards her whatsoever. He wasn’t her escort – he wasn’t her anything. Just a man trying to lead her to the exit.
But she had to admit his chivalrous action had been rather endearing. She’d never experienced anything like it.
“Nay,” she lied. “I was simply… startled.”
“Are you certain you are not injured?”
“I am not injured.”
His gaze lingered on her as if he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t contradict her. He simply let go of her once they reached the darkened corridor and went on ahead of her as she followed along behind.
Now, they were in the feasting room. It smelled glorious and Gavriella’s determination to leave was deterred by the fact that she was hungry. She’d had an entire cup of ale to calm her nerves and her head was swimming a little, so she swiped a beef tart as she walked by a table.
She began shoving it into her mouth as they reached the chamber where the women in transparent clothing were, the women who had put their masks on when they had first arrived. As they entered the dimly lit chamber, the women seemed to come out of the shadows, untying their masks and pulling them off. Gavriella had a mouth full of tart, shoving the entire thing in, as her mask came away.
His mask came off, too.
Gavriella found herself looking at a man handsome enough to make her forget how to swallow.
The tart went spraying out.
Gavriella coughed violently as the women in the transparent clothing shrieked and began calling for servants to clean up the mess. The man called Wolf reached out, taking her by the arm and pulling her away from the pile on the floor that she had created.
“Are you well?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Mayhap you need some wine.”
“Nay,” Gavriella said, clutching him before he could move away. She struggled to control the cough. “Truly, I am not ill. I tried to swallow and… it… it went down the wrong way. I am not ill, I assure you.”
She was gazing up into his face as he nodded, but he still looked concerned. “Are you sure?” he asked. “It will take me only a moment to find you something to drink.”
Gavriella shook her head. “Truly, do not trouble yourself,” she said. “I have already been an immense trouble to you already. In fact, since the moment we met, I have been little else, so I wish to relieve you of my burden as soon as possible.”
He looked at her, rubbed his chin, and then shrugged. Turning away from her, he continued down another dim corridor as Gavriella swallowed hard and tried to forget the fact that she had nearly choked. For certain, looking at a man as handsome as he was had startled her. She should have suspected given his dimpled smile, but once the mask came off… well, she had made a fool of herself.
Again.
He was fair, with blond brows and pale eyes from what she could see, but she noticed that he seemed to have a faint red tint to his hair even in the dim light. Just a little, but it was there. His jaw was square, like granite, and when he turned to look at her as they passed by a torch, she could see that his eyes were a glorious shade of blue.
The man was positively magnificent.
They’d finally reached the corridor that had the two armed door sentries in it, the point of entry to Gomorrah. The armed men stood back, allowing them to the door, but once they passed through the opened panel and out into the cold night, they slammed the door behind them. They could hear the bolt thrown.
Suddenly, the were out on the darkened, dangerous London street with the burned-out church behind them. The fog that had rolled in from the river now covered everything with mist, damp and slick. Gavriella came to an abrupt halt, looking down at herself.
“I came with a cloak,” she said, looking regretfully to the door they’d just exited through. “I do not even know what happened to it. It belonged to my cousin and I hate to leave it behind, but I am not going back inside.”
He looked at the door also. “To go back inside would be to risk being trapped again.”
“I know.”
His gaze turned to her. “Where is your home?”
That was a good question. Gavriella looked around the darkened street and tried to get her bearings, cradling her aching left arm. “God’s Bones,” she muttered. “I have already embarrassed myself irreparably tonight in front of you, so I suppose one more embarrassment will not matter. I have not been in London long enough to know much about it. I followed my cousins here from the manse. All I know is that it is in the northeast section of town, near the priory of the Holy Trinity. If you will point me in that direction, I am sure I can find it.”
He scratched his head a moment, pondering what she’d said. “If you are not from London, where are you from?”
“North.”
“A small village?”
“Small enough.”
He sighed. “Then I will tell you that traveling in London, and especially at night, is a dangerous thing for a woman alone,” he said. “If you think the maze of Gomorrah frightened you, then you should be doubly afraid of traveling these streets. There are men lurking in the shadows now, watching us, just waiting to pounce on you. I will be frank when I say that it would not be for a kiss or a dance, my lady.”
Gavriella knew that. At least, she did in theory. Her cousins had stupidly come alone to Gomorrah and they’d been fortunate not to have suffered any trouble, but now she was without an escort for her return home.
Except for Wolf.
“I understand that the streets are dangerous, but I have little choice,” she said. “I cannot stand here all night and wait for my cousins to emerge so that we may walk home together.”
“Then I will offer my services as an escort, my lady, to see you home safely,” he said. “I’ve seen you through this far. You should allow me to finish my task.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “I told you that I am not in the habit of trusting my safety to strangers.”
“Either you trust me or you will have to fight off the rabble on your own,” he said. “Are you willing to risk your life?”
He had a point and, no, she wasn’t. Heavily, she sighed. “Nay,” she said after a moment. “Very well, Wolf. I accept. But do not try anything or I’ll scream loud enough to wake the dead.”
In the darkness, his lips twitched with a smile. “I believe it. Shall we go?”
He was indicating a northerly direction and she nodded. They began to walk, heading up the muddy road as fog swallowed them up with every step they took. It was soupy and cold, with an occasional torch from the night watch piercing the veil of darkness. It was terribly difficult to see.
Gavriella was looking around nervously, more relieved than she cared to admit that he was escorting her home. A man that size would surely be a deterrent to any unsavory activity. But something occurred to her as they walked and she turned to look at him, his handsome features shrouded in the mist.