Chapter 6
Six
The barracks loomed in front of them without warning. Harrison didn’t slow, striding up to the door and kicking it open.
“You really need a sturdier door,” Chloe murmured. The captain merely shook his head, not looking at her.
The door had burst open to crash against the wall, and cries broke out inside as the two of them appeared on the threshold, bringing driving rain with them.
They entered a large, communal room where several griffin riders sat around an enormous fireplace.
They all jumped to their feet at sight of their captain, however, and as Harrison strode inside, he called a rapid string of orders.
One of the men sprang forward to close the door, dragging something in front of it to secure it in place, and another man disappeared down a hallway in search of blankets. Yet another headed toward what was apparently a kitchen of sorts.
Harrison strode directly to the fireplace, only stopping once he held her as close as possible to the warm flames. Chloe gave a shuddering sigh, her shivers finally slowing now that the storm had been shut outside.
With water no longer pouring over her face, she looked up and met Harrison’s eyes. Her breath caught, her heart stopping with it. He was looking down at her, his face barely inches from hers, and the storm was no longer outside but in his eyes. He made no move to put her down.
“What were you doing out there?” he demanded, his voice low but firm and commanding.
“I was walking. The storm came in so quickly. When the rain started, I ran for the closest shelter, which was the manor.” She met his eyes, reminding herself that each sentence was true on its own.
The musky smell of griffin pervaded the barracks, but not even a griffin could fault her for speaking an untruth.
The captain held her gaze, the silence lengthening between them as the storm spread from his eyes across his face. But a lingering shiver shook her, and he finally broke eye contact.
Dumping her on her feet, he stepped back, but when she staggered, his hand whipped out to catch her elbow, keeping her steady until she regained her balance. The man who had gone in search of blankets returned with an armful of them, and she recognized him as Fletcher.
“Why, if it isn’t Chloe!” he exclaimed in apparent delight at the sight of her. “I almost didn’t recognize you under all that water.” He chuckled, and she managed a weak smile in return, not wanting to think about how she must appear.
Harrison strode over to a door and pulled it open, gesturing inside. Chloe followed him, peering into a storeroom half filled with various supplies.
“You can change in here,” the captain said, carefully not looking at her.
“I’m afraid we have no females to assist you, so you’ll have to do the best you can on your own.
Remove everything but your simplest shift and wrap yourself well in one of these.
” He threw one of the blankets into the room.
“Bring your gown out, and we’ll lay it out to dry.
” He threw an uncertain glance at the remains of her sodden hat which she had just removed from her head.
“Don’t worry.” She managed a laugh. “I’m perfectly aware that the hat can’t be salvaged.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his face before he nodded and retreated, calling yet more orders to his men that she didn’t catch.
She shut herself in the storeroom, relieved to discover it wasn’t as dark as she’d feared.
A small window high up in one wall let in the weak afternoon light, although the storm kept it dim.
But at least she could see as her fumbling fingers peeled off her gown and petticoat, leaving only her thin shift.
She hung both garments over a couple of handy chests, abandoning the destroyed hat and slippers beside them. She really should have stopped to put on her boots before fleeing the store. Although even the boots might not have survived the downpour and mud.
As soon as she had shed the wet garments that weighed her down, she wrapped herself in the blanket as instructed. Relief filled her at both its soft warmth and generous size. She was able to cocoon herself completely in it, only her head emerging.
Gripped by sudden bashfulness, only her desire for the fire drove her to open the storeroom door and emerge.
To her relief, most of the riders had been banished—hopefully to some other fire within the barracks—leaving only Harrison and Fletcher.
Fletcher was just finishing placing a tray on a small table by the fire, steam rising from the three cups of tea that lay on it.
Chloe hurried over with a glad cry, keeping careful hold of the blanket as she moved.
“Drink this, and you’ll soon be warmed up,” Fletcher said cheerfully. “The captain tells me you were caught out walking in the storm. These spring storms do come on fast!”
Chloe nodded, gripped by a sudden reluctance to deceive either of them any further.
“Convenient timing,” Harrison muttered, and Chloe’s eyes flashed to him quickly enough to catch the significant look he directed at Fletcher.
She immediately flushed.
Fletcher ignored his captain, however, continuing to talk in a cheerful manner as he distributed the cups of tea.
The mugs holding the drinks were large and lacked the delicate grace of the teacups usually employed by ladies of fashion.
But Chloe was grateful to wrap her fingers around the warm cup and to drink all the liquid it contained.
“I wonder how long the storm will last,” she ventured, wishing she’d thought to ask Ammy about the storm’s length. “I don’t suppose any of you have a vendrillon to let us know?” She looked hopefully around the room as if one might be concealed somewhere.
Instead, her eyes fell on a nest in the corner of the room, considerably smaller than the ones she had seen in the mews.
She gasped, and both men followed her gaze.
Inside the nest, the smallest griffin Chloe had ever seen lay curled up, asleep.
And at her side, sleeping on the ground, lay Ranger, stretched out and comfortable despite the lack of a nest.
“I don’t think the griffins would suffer any vendrillon hanging around,” Fletcher said with a chuckle. “None of the talking creatures like to share their chosen humans.”
“Oh, of course not. That’s silly of me,” Chloe murmured, but her attention and focus remained on the elegant golden griffin.
“She’s beautiful,” she whispered, instinctively grasping that the delicate griffin was a girl. “Is she a baby?”
Harrison sighed, and her gaze snapped to his, her brows drawing together. Was something wrong with the griffin?
“She’s young.” His eyes lingered on the sleeping creature.
“But she’s also much too small and weak for her age.
It’s why we have her nest in here. The men prefer to keep an eye on her.
And Ranger checks on her regularly as well.
” An affectionate smile curled his mouth and warmed his eyes, and Chloe tried not to imagine what it would be like to see that particular expression directed at her.
“He refused to go outside once the rain started,” Fletcher said with a grin. “You’d never think it to look at his solemn face, but he loves his comfort, does our head griffin.”
“He’d fly in the rain without hesitation if it was needed,” Harrison said shortly. “But he’s not such a fool as to go out in a storm unnecessarily.” His eyes flicked toward Chloe.
Ranger’s eyes opened slowly, and he fixed one on the captain.
Relax, Harrison, he said in a long-suffering tone. As you can see, the girl is unharmed by a little rain.
“I wouldn’t call it little,” Chloe muttered, but she kept her voice too quiet for the griffin on the far side of the hall to hear.
Fletcher, however, cast her a quick glance of surprise, his eyes moving from her to Ranger and finally to Harrison, where they lingered before they returned to Chloe. “Ranger said something? And you heard it?”
“You didn’t?” she asked, too distracted for caution.
The griffin’s words had suggested that Harrison’s anger stemmed from concern rather than suspicion. But she couldn’t entirely trust the idea, given the questions he had asked and the look he had given his second-in-command.
“No, I didn’t,” Fletcher said slowly. “Ranger never talks to anyone but Harrison.” His tone was thoughtful, but the look he threw toward Harrison was triumphant. Harrison wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“This cannot be a comfortable situation for a young lady,” the captain said abruptly. “I think Chloe will be more at ease with only the griffins for company.” He stood. “Come on, Fletcher.”
He fixed his lieutenant with such a stern glare that Fletcher rose to his feet with no more protest than a single, longing look at the fire.
Chloe immediately felt bad and wanted to protest against their departure, but how could she do so when she only wore a shift beneath her blanket? It would seem much too forward.
And neither could she deny his words. While the presence of Harrison evoked all sorts of emotions, in the present situation, comfort wasn’t one of them.
Left alone in front of the fire, the warmth slowly seeped through her blanket, and the exhaustion of her experience overtook her. She dozed.
When she came awake, it was abrupt, and she held herself still, listening for the noise that had disturbed her. But it hadn’t been the noise so much as the absence of one. The rain had stopped. And from the way the fire had burned low, she had been drowsing in front of it for hours.
She leaped up, dragging the blanket with her. At least she had left the door to the storeroom open, so hopefully enough warmth had made it into the room to dry her clothes.
Hurrying into the storeroom and firmly closing the door, she dressed herself, shivering as the damp fabric touched her skin. But there was no way she was returning to the town wearing a blanket.
She abandoned her hat without thought, but she lingered over the slippers.
Eventually she decided there was no point trying to salvage them.
But as she slipped back out into the main room in bare feet, the issue occupied her mind.
She could no more walk home barefoot than she could go wrapped in nothing but a blanket.
A figure stood by the fire, his back to her, but at her soft gasp of surprise, Harrison turned to face her. Dangling from one hand hung a pair of boots.
He held them out to her with a half shrug. “They’ll be too big, of course, but they’re the smallest we have anywhere in the barracks.”
He’d noticed the state of her slippers. Her heart banged dangerously against her rib cage, and she reminded herself sternly that the captain regarded her with suspicion.
There was no point in her heart doing gymnastics, as if this sign of his capable leadership meant anything in particular.
He was no doubt in a rush to get rid of her and knew he couldn’t do it unless she was shod.
She accepted the boots and also the sheets of paper that he held out for her to use to stuff in the toes. As soon as she had the boots laced up as tightly as possible, she straightened and announced she would return home.
She expected the captain to offer to accompany her—most likely in tones of extreme reluctance—but though his face certainly looked reluctant, he said nothing.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” she said with a smile. “You’re starting to make a habit of it.”
He bowed his acceptance of her thanks. “Let’s hope it’s not needed again.”
She flushed and hurried out the door, forgetting to take a final look at the two sleeping griffins.
As she trudged through the grounds, she didn’t look for any sign of the Duke.
In fact, she hoped she didn’t meet him. She must look terrible, her gown torn, mud stained, and utterly wrinkled.
And her hair couldn’t be in much better shape.
Once again, her plan had failed spectacularly, and running into the Duke at that point could only hurt her efforts. She’d ruined Maddie’s dress for nothing.
She pondered the possibility of burning the ruined garment quietly without Maddie discovering what she’d done but concluded it was impossible.
Even if Maddie didn’t return to the store until the deed was accomplished, the woman had an eagle eye for gowns.
She would notice it was gone and badger Chloe until she got an answer.
She would have to confess everything. And given Maddie’s soft heart, she would focus only on the small element of danger to Chloe. Chloe’s heart sank even further. She deserved Maddie’s recrimination for her continued failure, but her kind friend would never give Chloe the blame she deserved.
It was up to Chloe to castigate herself—along with Captain Harrison, she thought wryly.
But the captain didn’t know that she had wasted one precious week of the month before the deadline.
If she didn’t make some progress soon, she would have no hope of winning the griffin egg that would save both her and Maddie.