Chapter 31 Penny
Penny
Iwas groggy when I woke, warm and comfortably cushioned with Kit fast asleep beneath me.
I pushed up gently, testing sore muscles and trying not to disturb him as I aimed to slide off the bed.
My days-old clothes were wrinkled, and my skin and hair were greasy from sweat.
A soak in the tub sounded like the remedy for all my ills.
Rolling over, I hit the floor on my knees. The echoing thump made Kit bolt upright. His hand flailed toward me, catching my arm and squeezing too near my sore elbow.
I yelped.
“Penny?” he blurted, and I hurried to clasp my fingers over his.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “Just getting up is all.”
Sorrow stabbed in my chest at seeing him so frightened.
He’d looked that way a lot since I’d woken up the day before.
He hadn’t said much about what happened after we both passed out in the kitchen, but the way he hovered nearby, and the worry that pinched his dark eyes hinted at things he might be keeping to himself.
Kit’s panic shifted to relief. He released me and laid back with a grunt.
Turning toward him, I tipped my head to rest on his stomach. I’d enjoyed his attention the previous evening, at least when I was aware enough to realize it. He was constantly close, and I wanted to keep him that way as long as possible.
“Do you want to get in the bath?” I asked.
He craned his neck to look down at me. “Together?”
I nodded.
Kit considered for a moment, then nodded as well.
I pushed up to my feet, letting his fingers snag in mine as I pulled him from the bed.
We must have looked a sight, both weak and wobbly, stumbling into each other as we made our way to the bathroom.
It was close quarters, barely room enough to stand between the sink and deep, wooden tub.
But proximity was becoming familiar, and we brushed and bumped against one another a few times more, letting our hands roam and then linger.
I undressed first, eager to strip out of my soured clothes, while Kit took a match from the ledge on the wall. He struck it and opened the firebox below the boiler. It took only a few seconds before the kindling inside began to catch.
The chilly air made me shiver. I hugged my arms around my bare body and watched while Kit studied me. Mostly out of concern, but he was admiring, too.
Kit stepped toward me and curved his hand around my ribs. He bent in and bumped his nose into mine, and I responded with a soft, savoring kiss.
He pulled back and pecked my lips once more before murmuring, “I'm glad you're all right.”
I rubbed the sore spot near the bend of my elbow. Bruises dotted my skin where the fluids had been administered. I flexed my arms, one then the other, as though they would feel different somehow. But the only thing that had changed was my understanding of what Kit left unsaid the day before.
“You saved my life.” I looked up at him. “Didn't you?”
Hadn't I known he would? When I was staring Merrick down, drinking the poison and testing fate, some part of me felt safe because Kit was beside me. Because he gave me his word. And I believed him.
“You weren’t well, Pen. I thought…” His gaze angled toward the bruises I'd been studying. “You needed help. I did what was necessary, but it may not have been what was prudent.”
Questions cropped up in my mind, but I kept them to myself as he continued.
“The local herbalist was involved.”
“The man you got the hemlock from?” I asked.
Kit dipped his head in a solemn nod. “I threatened his life. To save yours.”
He was quiet after that, lost in his thoughts until I prompted, “And that’s not allowed.”
Something stormy crossed his features, abrupt and angry enough I thought he might shout, but instead his words came out seething.
“Forget what’s allowed, Penny. I wouldn’t allow you to die. So, I put a knife to Harlan’s throat and dragged him back here, and he…”
Emotion choked him, and his fingers dug into my sides as he looked down. “He betrayed me once, and he’ll probably do it again, but there was no other option. Not one that didn’t end with you dead.”
Kit slouched, burdened by the admission of guilt. He was always so quick to apologize and ready to take the blame for things that weren’t his fault. I wouldn’t have him disparage himself for taking care of me.
Pressing into him, I slipped my arms around his chest and pulled him in. He hung his head over my shoulder, and I kissed his stubbled cheek.
After a long moment, we broke apart. Kit’s hands rested on my waist as he searched my face.
“I would do it again,” he said.
I couldn’t ignore what was as plain a profession as any. I smoothed my hand over his jaw and smiled. “I love you too, Kit.”
His eyes shuttered, breaking our visual lock.
The tub had filled with water that flooded the tiny bathroom with steam. I wobbled a bit as I stepped back and tugged at Kit's clothes. He got the idea and shucked his shirt and trousers before closing the gap to me.
I hung onto him for support while we climbed into the tub. The hot water stung my legs as I lowered myself into it less gracefully than I meant to. I'd barely sat before the exhaustion that still plagued me took root, and I tucked myself into Kit's strong arms.
He sat beneath me, and I nestled sideways into his lap, one shoulder against his chest and my face buried in the curve of his neck. He scooped palmfuls of water into my hair and let it course over my closed eyes and cheeks.
Inhaling the moist air eased the pressure crushing my lungs, so I breathed deep and slow, pausing only to dot Kit’s throat with feathery kisses.
“Perfect man,” I hummed against him. “Perfectly mine.”
The words seemed to resound, weighty with sudden meaning.
I thought of Reimond planning a marriage that would never happen, and waiting for the perfect moment to propose.
I didn't want to wait any longer. Life was tenuous.
Fleeting. And I'd seen enough death by now to have learned not to take even a day for granted.
I loved Kit deeply. Desperately. I wanted to keep him with me always. Which meant there was something I needed to ask.
Shifting my position atop Kit's thighs, I swiveled to face him.
He tilted his head as my expression betrayed the nerves that tangled like a nest of snakes in my gut.
He might think me impetuous, or too young, or insist that we didn't truly know each other after only four months.
But I knew how I felt, and I was more and more certain I knew how he felt, too.
“Kit, I want…” I swallowed. “Would you…”
I knew what to ask, but not how, and I floundered to phrase it before a knock at the front door brought a stop to everything.
I cast a scathing glare at the closed bathroom door and huffed a breath. “I thought this was a private residence, not a meeting hall.”
Kit snorted. He carefully slid me aside, then stood and stepped over the edge of the tub. Watching the water course down his bare body snuffed out my irritation, and I watched with unmasked interest until he took a towel from the hook on the wall and wound it around his waist.
“Stay here and keep warm,” he told me. “I think the heat is good for you.”
Kit tugged his shirt on before opening the door and ducking into the hall. He'd barely left my line of sight before I rose to follow.
A few minutes apart would have given me time to consider my request, but I had already begun fretting over who might be calling on us and why.
Perhaps Merrick had come to verify we were still alive.
Or Levitt was bringing charges against Kit for forcing the herbalist to help me.
In either case, it was not something Kit should face alone.
Securing a towel around my hips, I ventured out of the balmy bathroom. The house was cold without a fire in the hearth, and my skin prickled with goosebumps as I hurried toward the entry. I could already see Kit holding the front door open and peering at someone outside.
My hair dripped water down my front and back, where it rapidly cooled. My teeth chattered, and my muscles tightened with a fit of shivers about the time Kit noticed my approach.
“Penwell Oliver!” His exclamation brought me skidding to a halt. “Get back in the godsdamned bath! I'll only be a minute.”
His expression went slack as he returned his attention to the guest at the door. It was a hooded figure, one of the faceless messengers often sent to announce the Oaths. The drifted snow was starkly bright behind them, making them look like a hole carved out of the world.
I didn't understand Kit's alarm until I watched his gaze drop to his own towel and bare legs beneath it, then to me in a similar state of undress. Unless cult members were in the habit of taking baths with their recruits, there was little other conclusion to be drawn.
I snickered.
“Bath,” Kit repeated with renewed emphasis. He stabbed his finger toward the hall behind me.
A frigid blast whipped through the open door, and that was enough to force me into retreat. I spun and scurried back to the bathroom about the time the wheeze in my lungs caught up to me and started a hacking, rasping fit.
Shuddering from the cold that gnawed at my bones, I unwound the towel and climbed back into the tub, sinking past my shoulders as I hunkered below the water line. I drew my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, tucking into a tight and slowly warming ball.
After I felt fully thawed, I took the bar of lye soap and lathered myself from head to toe.
I scrubbed at my hair especially, marveling at how long it had gotten in my time away from home.
Mother had always insisted I keep it trimmed and practical since I was a working man.
But now it was shaggy, more in my eyes than out of it, and tickling the nape of my neck.
I had no intention of cutting it. I wanted to know how it would feel down to my jaw and with Kit's hands thoroughly knotted in it.
I'd finished rinsing by the time Kit reentered the bathroom. He was trembling and rubbing his hands down his arms.
I scooted over and unfolded my body, beckoning him to rejoin me, but he shook his head.
“No time,” he said. “We're needed in town.”
Considering the ominous messenger, I had an assumption as to why. I’d hoped for more of a reprieve before facing the cult’s next fiendish request. The thought of further suffering weighed me down, and my shoulders sagged as I sank deep in the water again.
“Is it the fourth Oath?” I asked, sounding timid.
“No.” Kit shook his head again. “Something worse.”