Erin had slender wrists.  His hand could encircle them easily.  Hardly the wrists and arms of someone who worked in a stable.  Which made her claims all the more doubtful.<br/><br/>Finished tying her wrists together, Nathan lowered them so Erin could stand up straight again.  And then he grabbed the ropes holding her elbows together, using them as a handle to keep hold of her and propel her forward.<br/><br/>"Now let's go and see if the landlady knows you and employs you," he growled, shoving Erin forward towards the kitchen door.<br/><br/>Nathan had learned long ago not to use a leash.  After all, he'd been tied up and part of a line of prisoners pulled by leash.  At least until he'd run up on the guard and entangled him in the leash, getting a hold of his weapon, cutting the leash, and making his escape.  And while he could have hobbled the girl's ankles, he wanted to get this over and get back to his scotch.