“There’s no need to run away.” He didn’t glance up from the now docile horse.
“Yes, there
is,” she surprised herself by saying, although she’d resolved not to address him. Her swollen face thickened her voice into unfamiliarity. But her upper-class diction marked her as an object of interest. Memorable. Noticeable.
A target.
Clumsily, she struggled to her feet. She felt less vulnerable standing. In her awkward rise, she bumped the wall and bit back a sharp cry. Battling dizzying pain, she cradled her throbbing arm against her.
Her ungainly lurch spooked Khan, who sidled and snorted. Her father had been a connoisseur of horseflesh. Charis had immediately recognized Khan for the highbred aristocrat he was.
Much like the man holding the beast’s head.
“I know you’re afraid.” At first, she thought he spoke to Khan. His attention remained on the horse. “I know you need help.”
Help to hand her over to the law, she thought bitterly. “Why should you care? You’re a stranger.”
“That’s true. Although when you chose my horse’s stall, you also chose me.”
“That was just chance.”
At last, he looked directly at her. Surely it was only a trick of the lamplight that his eyes shone so dark and brilliant above those dramatic cheekbones. “All things in life are chance.”
Charis shivered under that appraising ebony gaze. The moment seemed to hold a significance it couldn’t possibly have. Shaking off the strange preternatural sensation, she raised her chin. She had enough problems in the here and now without taking on the metaphysical.
“Kindly step aside, sir. I must be on my way.”
“It’s not safe for a lady to travel by herself.” He didn’t budge, and while his voice remained quiet, it was implacable.
To underline his warning, a burst of carousing came from the inn across the yard. On such a cold night, the taproom must be packed. The freezing weather was one of her few strokes of luck—the grooms had left their posts to seek the fire’s warmth. Otherwise, they’d have discovered her hiding place immediately. Why wasn’t this stranger equally eager to stay inside like any sensible man instead of wandering around this cavernous stable?
“That is none of your concern.” How on earth could she escape? Again, she berated herself for not struggling on.
“Won’t you trust me with your story?” His voice dropped into sweet persuasion. The tone wasn’t far different from the one he’d used to settle Khan. And like Khan, she felt the insidious lure of that mellifluous baritone. “I can see you’re in trouble. I swear…”
He broke off abruptly and tilted his head toward the main doors, far down the long corridor. Then Charis caught the shuffle of approaching footsteps. What inhumanly acute hearing he must possess to discern anyone’s arrival over the creaking roof and the whistle of the wind.
“Aught amiss here, my lord?” a rough male voice, she guessed belonging to a groom, asked from several yards away.
My lord? She’d been right about his social status. With a frightened whimper, Charis shrank into the shadows as the man shifted the lantern so darkness shrouded her. As she retreated, each rustle of straw sounded loud as a gunshot.
“Just seeing to my horse, my good man.” With a casual air, he wandered out of sight toward the newcomer.
“Can I aid thee?” The groom’s voice grew clearer as he approached.
Charis’s breath caught in her throat and she hunched as far from the light as she could. Her arm protested the movement, but she ignored the shooting pain.
“No. All’s well.”
Charis buried damp palms in the tattered, stained skirts of her once-elegant day gown and silently prayed that she remain undetected. Her heart banged so frenetically against her ribs, she was surprised the groom didn’t hear it and come to investigate.
“It’s a cold night for man and beast, that’s for certain sure.”
“Too cold to be out and about.” For all the ring of authority in his voice, the lord sounded relaxed, unworried. “Find your place by the hearth and have a drink on me.”
Charis edged as far behind Khan’s rump as she dared, keeping a wary eye on those lethal hind legs.
“Very kind of your lordship, I’m sure. I don’t mind if I do.” The groom’s reply rang with surprised gratitude. “Sure I can’t assist?”