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intention of becoming this woman’s protector, but there was
something about the fear in her eyes that struck a chord deep
within him and, soldier that he was, he couldn’t just walk away and
leave her to fight these particular thugs on her own.
    “ Look, let me see you home, where I assume someone will be
there to be with you?” At the lady’s nod, Simon tugged the basket
out of her grasp and whistled to Billie.
    Francesca watched as Tom rolled onto his knees and began to
throw up in the hedge. Wrinkling her nose up in disgust, she
hurried after the big man who had undoubtedly saved her virtue if
not her life, very aware of the huge lumbering beast that trotted
obediently behind them.
    “ Is he yours?” Francesca gasped, eyeing the huge mount
warily.
    “ Yes, he’s called Billie. Do you ride?”
    “ Erm, no,” Francesca replied solemnly, missing Simon’s
questioning glance because her gaze was firmly locked on the huge
animal who was seemingly content to simply follow his
master.
    “ He is big, but he won’t hurt you,” Simon murmured, slowing to
walk alongside her.
    “ I wonder if you could tell me where I could stay for the
night?” Simon asked, easing back a little to study her a little
more closely when several moments of silence had passed.
    “ The tavern in the village closed a few months ago,” Francesca
muttered, wondering how she could stop the man following her home.
Although he had saved her, she had no idea who he was and if he had
any connection whatsoever to the strange events that had been
happening of late. Until she could be sure, the less he knew about
her the better as far as she as concerned, and vice versa. “The
only other tavern is at Brostock about six miles away.”
    Simon
bit back a curse and rolled his eyes.
    “ Isn’t there anyone who takes in lodgers?”
    Francesca shook her head slowly. There were in fact several
families who used to take in lodgers, but at the moment, everyone
was suspicious of everything and weren’t inclined to accept
strangers. Not that Francesca could blame them. Her thoughts
immediately turned to her uncle, and she felt the sharp pang of
grief that bought the familiar sting of tears to her eyes. Quickly
closing that thought off, she glanced at the man beside her and
felt a jolt as her eyes met his close scrutiny.
    Glancing
around her, she sought a way to lengthen the gap between them. They
were walking so close that his shoulder occasionally brushed hers,
and that, along with his careful study of her, was more than a
little unnerving. She scowled a little. “I think you would be best
staying in Brostock.”
    “ Why did the tavern here close down? I would have thought there
would have been enough passing trade.”
    Francesca slowly shook her head. “I am not sure myself, to be
honest,” she replied carefully. “I only recently moved to the
area.”
    Simon
shook his head slowly, aware that she was ill at ease from the
straightening of her spine and the almost frantic way her eyes
flitted around them. Although she may just be spooked from her
earlier ordeal, he had no doubt she was hiding something. Something
she had no way of knowing he had already uncovered. He was fairly
certain her true identity wasn’t the only thing she was hiding, and
he was intrigued to know what it was.
    “ That’s too far away, I need to be in Much Hampton,” Simon
sighed, seemingly contemplating his options.
    “ Why?” Francesca asked, panting a little from the speed they
were walking.
    “ I have business here. I am an artist and have been
commissioned to paint some pictures of Much Hampton and the
surrounding moor. It is best if I reside here, otherwise half of my
time is going to be spent travelling backward and
forward.”
    “ Oh, but –”
    “ Oh, but what?” Simon’s curiosity was piqued.
    Francesca considered him for a moment, wondering just how far
she could push the boundaries of what was polite – or safe. He had
saved her life, and for that she