Crimson Secret by Janet Lane

Author:Janet Lane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: political intrigue, forbidden love, gypsies, war of the roses, romantic adventure, medieval romance, interracial love, intercultural love, england and ireland, english royals
Publisher: Janet Lane

Chapter 12

Her head rested on his shoulder, and he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.

They had hung their clothes on tree branches to dry. Luke had checked on the horses and returned with a travel blanket, which he spread on a sunny patch of grass near spring flowers. “This is pleasant. Here.” He caressed the length of her arm. “With you.” His deep voice sounded like music in the quiet.

Pleasant, he said. Like a good game of chess. She smiled to herself. He was so reserved with his emotions. After what they had shared, his word was bland, but the look in his eyes said so much more.

“Would that we could stay here forever,” she said. An occasional bird sang, a squirrel scolded, and a breeze made the trees whisper, but she could not take her eyes from his face. He met her gaze with a tenderness she had not seen before. His relaxed features softened the angles of his face, and his smile was fluid, almost lazy. This was a Luke she had never known before, a sensual, sated man, comfortable in her arms.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“How much I like to win.” His smile widened. “Can we race again?”

“Only after I explain all the rules.” Her fingers skipped over his flat stomach.

He laughed, catching her hand, and knowing he was ticklish made her laugh, too.

“Losing has its advantages,” she said. “But I look forward to winning.”

She told him about the games she, Stephen and Faith had played as children. They had made home-made slides from winnowing baskets saturated with duck grease. They rode them, sliding faster than the wind down the grassy hill by the church. They would practice with the bow and arrow targets for entire days, or spend lazy summer days catching caterpillars, and her parents would decide who had the best collection.

“I like seeing that playful side of you,” he said. “I love that part of you. Most of times you seem so delicate, so serious in all your finery. I was surprised.” He traced the curve of her ear. “Your gowns—they’re more beautiful than those at the king’s court.”

His words echoed in her head. Did he just say there was something about her that he loved? She basked in the warmth of his compliment.

“Thank you. My mother sews all my gowns. Her fingers are so nimble, she can sew silk over rosary beads so that you never see a single seam. ‘Tis my good fortune. My garderobe is filled with her designs.”

“So you dress to please your mother.”

She laughed and shook her head. “We both enjoy shopping for the fabrics, a special time only for the two of us.” Thoughts of her mother shone like sunshine in Joya’s heart. “I’m proud of her. ‘Tis dear to me to wear her gowns. My father and brother are also pleased with her talent. They wear the finest doublets, with a perfect fit, in spite of their height.” She nuzzled into his shoulder.

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