Chapter Ten
Reid walked fast, practically striding, his arm taut beneath Letty’s hand. She stretched her legs to keep up and glanced at his face. A magnificent man when he was angry, with those blazing silver eyes, that knotted brow, those flared nostrils. She could imagine him facing Achilles on the battlefield at Troy—and winning.
Reid’s pace slowed. He exhaled, and almost visibly shed his anger. His arm relaxed. He glanced at her. “Luncheon?”
“Luncheon.”
Now, he no longer looked magnificent; he looked gaunt and weary. Letty had a flash of memory: Reid as she’d seen him last night, in the throes of his nightmare, crying out in anguish.
She soberly matched her steps to his, along Beadle Street to the Plough. Reid bespoke a room for Green and then they ate a silent lunch. “Will you co
