Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 12

Squeezing her eyes shut, she put up her head and jutted out her chin in a defiant yet endearing gesture. She flinched at the first touch and her face twisted into a grimace of disgust but she held still, clenching her hands at her sides. After he'd done smearing the dirt across her face, he pulled away to see the result of his handiwork. She opened her eyes, her brows still furrowed with irritation.

"Now even the most dirty old goat will pass you by without a second look." He remarked with only a touch of satisfaction.

She threw a scorching glare at him.
"You're happy to see me like this, aren't you?"

He tensed up instantly, detecting a sign of danger.
"I don't relish doing this to you."

She squinted her eyes.
"Truly? Because you seem to rather enjoy it."

"Not at all. Look, I only try to help you here."

She fell silent for a while as if considering his words, then the corner of her lips tilted up to form a wicked smile.
"Alright, I don't have any choice but to hide under this dirt, but I'm not going to look like shit alone."

And with that she bent down and dipped her hand into the damp soil nearby and stepped toward him.

"This is ridiculous." Matthew took a hasty step back, and the very next second, he jumped and ran across the field to avoid her. Arabella chased him, but he was too fast for her, and after long minutes of trying in a vain attempt to smear the dirt on his face, she swung her soil-covered hand in frustration.

"Don't-"
He stopped short when a splotch of dirt landed prettily on his shirtfront, and soon the pungent smell of manure compost wafted into his nostrils. She stared round-eyed at the unexpected outcome, then burst into laughter.
"Now you smell like horseshit!"

Expelling a desperate sigh, he threw his hands up in the air.
"Thanks to you, now hopefully it will keep people away from us."

******

Looking little better than a pair of vagabonds, their way was made a lot smoother, not to mention the obnoxious smell that seemed to make people hurry to step out of their path. Facing the risk of getting recognized, they should forget the idea of staying the night at an inn, so they headed to the outskirts of town, far from inhabited areas.

At first, they planned to shelter in the woods, but fortunately they found a deserted cottage, with a barn in the frontyard and a well nearby to keep them hydrated and clean for the rest of the night.

The cottage was little more than a wreck right in the middle of a wasteland. It seemed the wind would cave the roof in at any moment. They found the spacious barn more sturdy and comfortable, and surprisingly well supplied with some survival kits. There were stacks of firewoods, some kitchenware and cleaning utensils, and a tin tub that had been left to moulder away in the back.

Soon Matthew got the fire going to chase away the cold night air, then he went out to wash his stained clothes. In the meanwhile, Arabella had cleverly secured herself a warmer spot on a haystack, where she reclined idly staring at the fire. Some minutes later, she heard shuffling of feet from the doorway and glanced in the direction.

Her heart skipped a beat when Matthew entered the barn, shirtless and covered in sweat. His dark hair tousled, blown by the wind, a few stray locks falling across his damp forehead. His toned, chiseled chest shimmered in the firelight.