“A pretty girl, no doubt.”
He shook his head and scowled, settling his gaze on her again. “No. No pretty girls.”
He moved to step around her, but she caught his arm. “What has come over you since last night? Last night, you weren’t half-bad. But today you’re an ass.”
His mouth curled into a woeful smile. Just when he thought she was softening again. His lips went stiff. “I have come to my senses.”
Her soft expression grew hard. “About me. Fine. Just don’t throw me out into the str—the road.”
She let him go and stormed away. He wanted to go after her. To assure her she could stay as long as she needed. But first, he had to find her village.
What if he couldn’t find any village that had lost her? He wondered about that on his way to the stable. What if no one had?
He searched every village and town closest to Scarborough, seven in all. No one knew anyone fitting Miss Locksley’s description, and none had lost any of their women. Of course, there were more towns farther away from which she could have come. He couldn’t check them all in one day.
For now, it pointed to her story being real. All the more reason to stay away from her.
He made it home in time for supper, but he had no intentions of going into the great hall. He did look inside the open door when he passed it. He found her immediately. She sat with Elia at a different table. She smiled and looked spellbinding doing it, but there was a deep sadness in her eyes. Was he the only one who saw it? Elia was a clever woman. She would pick Miss Locksley’s thoughts to pieces, until she discovered the truth.
“Are you going in, my lord?”
Nicholas scowled and growled down at William, Reg’s eldest son. He was twelve, just like young prince Edward, but nothing like the king’s son.
“Areyougoing in?” he countered, gravelly.
“Who were you staring at?” the brat demanded.
“Get moving,” Nicholas ordered. “Before I kick your arse all the way to your seat.”
The boy hurried in, calling to his father and drawing all attention to Nicholas. Miss Locksley was already looking his way.
He felt his scowl growing darker, harder. Had she seen him watching her? There was nothing else to do now but go inside. He didn’t want to eat with everyone, but it was too late now. He was here. And so was Miss Locksley. He gathered his wits and control and walked inside.
Boldly, she watched him. He lifted his hand to his hair, his chest. He became acutely aware of how he was walking. As he grew closer to his chair at the head of his table, he decided he didn’t want to sit there with Reg and Adele. But sitting with Miss Locksley was a bad idea. No matter what her story was, it turns out poorly for him.
He yanked his chair from under the table and sat.
Adele lifted her hand to her head and then glared at him when her husband spoke. “Nicholas, can you not make your chair screech across—”
Nicholas pulled himself and the chair in, adding banging to the screeching.
Now Margaret added her hateful glare with her lady’s.
Nicholas held up his cup for some ale, ignoring them and Reg’s flaring nostrils.
“I will sit in my castle however I wish,” he said quietly, calmly. “I will say what I wish and do what I wish, without worrying about offending any of you. You were not invited here. Have you forgotten?”
Reg looked at Adele. Whatever they spoke in their heads to each other worked because they nodded and softened their expressions.
Nicholas set his icy gaze on Margaret the maid while a server poured ale into his cup. Margaret was in her late thirties, never married, and wanted Nicholas in her bed more than anything else in the world. That was what she told him anyway.
His eyes sparked with a challenge. Would she say something about the noise he made? No. She remained quiet.
The ale was watered down. He would speak to the servers about it later.
He looked over to where Miss Locksley sat and watched her while she spoke to Elia and the others sitting around her. She seemed to be settling into her new surroundings. She was no longer crying and going on about the future. He hoped.
She should be sitting with him so that he could manage her conversations. And keep her from the stake. He would speak to Elia about it later. He’d have to make something up. Even Elia couldn’t know their guest’s beliefs.