The Bastard (Darling #2) [complete]

Chapter Eight

T H R O U G H O U T  T H E duration of the travels back to the castle, Louelle caught Thatcher staring at her quite frequently. It was as if he had to keep looking at her to make certain she would not disappear again; as if he wished to have her in his sights at all times.

And it was precisely what he was doing. Although the two of them still had an awful lot to still discuss once they returned home, he was truly elated to have her with him once more. As aforementioned - many times - the entire night she'd been missing was the most miserable he'd ever felt. It made him realize he truly did love her. Not that it was ever a question. He did not have a reason to live his life if she was not living it beside him.

The roads back to the castle were beginning to grow dark and eerie as the moon began to rise. It was another reason for him to continue glancing over at Louelle. King James mentioned rebel groups were beginning to form, and some even threatened to invade the castle. Thatcher only wanted to ensure her safety. It was a high probability there were some groups hiding out in the woodling. He was only on alert in case they would be bombarded by those rebels. And he'd gladly step in front of any arrow or sword for her to promise her a life.

Mister Albernathy had provided Thatcher with a group of armed men per protocol, albeit small. There were two behind the prince and Louelle who rode horseback in the center of their protection. One guard was on either side of them and there was one in front of them. He was grateful for Mister Albernathy's planning. If he had it his way, he and Louelle would have been unprepared in an attack, if anyone dared to.

With the little warmth from the sun then gone, Louelle caught a chill even though her cloak was tightly knotted at her neck. She hadn't ridden horseback since she was a child, and how badly she wished Thatcher would have brought himself in a carriage instead. With the chill from the autumn air nearing its peak temperature, she would have loved to have been hidden within a carriage's four walls and a roof, with a nice warm blanket draped over her legs.

But with how quickly things escalated between them and how fast he rushed to bring her home, she understood he did not have the time to ready a carriage, nor order for one to be readied. He was in a hurry to find her.

Although she was frightened of everything she was certain to come, she was glad he did find her. She was aware that the short discussion they had at Miss Wright's home did not cover everything they truly needed to discuss. For the continuation of it she was sure they would have in the near future, she was apprehensive.

Perhaps when they did return home, he'd grow angry at her for what she had done. Again, it was something she knew she very-well deserved, but she had never seen Thatcher truly angry until the events at the harvest dinner. He had thrown Dane up against the stone-hard wall, for heaven's sake! She knew the prince would have never laid a hand on her, besides the one time he did at the hand of both her and King James. However, she did witness how anger embodied him.