She would be furious at him, Ash knew, but he needed to force her hand and bring an end to her mad flight as quickly as possible. If she kept on this path, she could very well ruin her life.
Moreover, he was taking destiny back into his own hands.
And finally, Ash admitted, his actions would give him greater leverage over Maura, which he needed to gain her agreement for an even more ambitious plan he was concocting.
His private feelings for her—which were becoming rather complicated—would have to wait to be sorted out. And so would helping her to regain legal ownership of her stallion.
For now, Ash vowed, he simply intended to save Maura from herself.
The storm was still raging when Beaufort returned, sinking Maura’s spirits yet again, despite the fact that she was now clean and mostly dry. She had finished bathing and was sitting before the crackling fire, combing out her freshly washed hair. For warmth, she’d draped the blanket around her, over the modest gown the innkeeper’s wife had loaned her.
Beaufort wore modest attire also, Maura saw, noting his linen shirt, fustian breeches, and leather slippers.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
“No. They brought dinner a moment ago, but I waited for you.” She gestured at the small table by the window, where a tray of covered dishes lay.
“Come,” he suggested.
There was only one chair at the table, since Maura had dragged its twin before the fire. When she rose to relinquish hers, Beaufort carried it back across the small room.
While he inspected the various dishes, she went to the window and restlessly peered out.
“It is frustrating that I must stay in hiding,” she muttered.
“You brought it on yourself,” he said without much sympathy.
“True.”
“Come and sit down. You will feel better after you have eaten a decent meal.”
He was holding out her chair for her and clearly wouldn’t sit until she did. With a sigh, Maura joined him and let him serve her rabbit stew and bread pudding. But even though the fare was tasty, she did not have much of an appetite.
“You are right,” she observed, picking at her stew. “The storm may not let up soon. And even after Emp’s shoe is replaced, he could still be too lame to travel.”
“Yes. We may have to remain here tomorrow or even longer.”
Beaufort seemed too cheerful to her mind. “You are gloating because you managed to get your way after all. If I didn’t know better, I would say you arranged the storm somehow.”
“I don’t have any such magical powers or I would have used them to better purpose. Certainly I would have persuaded you to take shelter here before we were drenched.”
When she started to argue, Beaufort startled her by snatching her fork and shoveling a bite of pudding into her mouth.
“Now, be a good girl and chew. You need to stop moping over what cannot be changed.”
Maura shook herself, knowing that he was right again. She reclaimed her fork, suspecting that he would forcibly feed her if she wouldn’t do it herself.
When they finally finished the meal, she did indeed feel better, not so much because her stomach was full, but because Beaufort had somehow managed to lighten her mood. He would not allow her to despair, she realized, torn between gratitude and unwilling humor.
When two inn servants came to take away the dishes, Beaufort asked for more hot water to be brought for his bath.
Once they were gone, he turned to Maura. “I trust you don’t mind if I shave and bathe,” he said, rubbing his stubbled jaw with a grimace of distaste.
“Of course I don’t mind,” she murmured, although she wondered how she would deal with him in such close quarters. The small bedchamber was crowded, what with the table and two chairs, a bed and nightstand, a washstand, and now the round wooden tub at one side of the hearth. The thought of him naked in that tub was most unsettling.
While the servants brought more buckets of hot water, Beaufort went to the washstand and began lathering his face with soap. Maura retreated to the window but found herself watching him in fascination as he used a straight razor to scrape off his growth of whiskers.
“Does that hurt?” she asked curiously.