The Raven's Revenge by Gina Black Page B

soon, massaging the soap through her hair made her think of his hands running through her hair, soaping her arms brought to mind his hand on her arm as he’d steered her up the stairs. Everywhere she washed, she could feel his hands upon her, a strange, unsettling, yet pleasant sensation. She watched her nipples grow into firm pebbles, saw the soap trail down the valley between her breasts—breasts that had become sensitive when he’d kissed her.
    A surge of heat ran through her. Never had she imagined a kiss to be that way. She’d melted like winter snow in the spring sun. If he hadn’t stopped, she was sure she’d have become a puddle at his feet.
    Disconcerted, Katherine dunked under the water, rinsing the lather from her arms and breasts with brusque, almost harsh, motions.
    Leaning back against the side of the tub, she sighed. This bath was not bringing the calm she needed. She lifted a leg out of the water, ran the soap from her toes to the top of her thigh, and then repeated on the other side. That left the place where her legs joined. Her woman’s place. Another rush of warmth coursed through her. That place had felt his kiss as well. He had made her ache, as if she were coming down with the ague.
    That must be it, she thought, lowering herself back into the water. Nicholas gave her a fever. Maybe she needed a dose of comfrey and willow bark tea.
    Or to kiss him again.
    Katherine immersed her face in the water and scrubbed her skin, getting just enough soap into her eyes to burn, as if to punish herself for such wayward thoughts.
    She rinsed her hair and shivered. The water had cooled. She must be well done with her bath and dressed when Nicholas returned, and have her thoughts under control as well.
    Katherine rose from the tub and dried herself, not minding at all when the coarse towel abraded her tender skin. Taking a wrinkled but clean gown from a satchel, she dressed without her stays and petticoats, knowing she would sleep in what she wore.
    After a brief search through her other bag, Katherine found her comb. Pulling a stool before the fire, determined to cast her mind from Nicholas, she tried to remember her Latin verbs and combed her hair until all the knots were gone.

    * * *

    Downstairs in the common room, Nicholas sat across from Jeremy at a rough wooden table not far from the fire. The atmosphere between them bristled with tension. Impatient to be done with a necessary ploy, Nicholas spoke overloud. “Now, lad, which road d’ye think will be the best to take us to Portsmouth?” He gave the boy a broad wink.
    “Portsmouth?” Jeremy looked up, startled. “But I tho—ow!!” He shot an angry look at Nicholas and reached down to rub his shin. “Ye did not have to kick me!”
    “Shhh,” Nicholas hissed. “We want them to think ’tis where we’re going in case we’re asked about.”
    “Oh,” Jeremy looked down, a hot red tinge flushing his ears. “I shoulda thought o’ that.”
    Nicholas said louder, “It seems we should go by Alderbury. Or d’ye think the Bodenham road would be better?”
    Jeremy cleared his throat and spoke, eyes looking daggers at Nicholas. “I reckon ‘twould be best to take the Bodenham road.”
    “No ‘twon’t,” a gruff voice from the next table cut in. “The Bodenham road runs a mite longer, by tak’n ye through Downton and Bramshaw.” The man took a long draught on his ale, letting a dribble run down his chin. “Take the Alderbury road, ’twill get ye there sooner.”
    “True enough, Tom, unless it rains tonight,” said another voice from the same table. “Me bunions are telling me ’twill rain something fierce. When that happens the Alderbury road washes out and ye canna take it. Then ye’d have to go by Bodenham instead.”
    Nicholas looked over the rough-clad workers and nodded. “My thanks for the information.”
    Turning back to his table, he flashed Jeremy an apologetic glance. He hoped he’d not done serious damage to the young