His Lady Bride by Shelley Bradley

Author:Shelley Bradley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Shelley Bradley, LLC
Published: 2014-07-21T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Clutching nervous fingers into fists, Gwenyth watched Aric arrive as the sun drifted behind the hill upon which Northwell sat. Dusk bathed the sparse green land and the castle stones about them in shades of honey. Aric sat tall upon his mount, in gray relief against the brilliant scene, the sky’s fiery orb turning his hair a molten gold.

Gwenyth swallowed against the sudden flutter of anticipation and longing. She had missed him these past three months. Terribly. Had he missed her at all?

He dismounted, handing his reins over to a stable lad, and cast his gaze over the waiting party as they stood beside one another. With nary a pause, he glanced over Stephen, beyond Baswain. Then his gaze swept past Rowena, whose small pink smile of anticipation froze. Hiding a grin, Gwenyth hoped the witch disliked her orange gown. ’Twould explain why she wore blue now.

Finally, Aric’s stare found her—and stayed—as he walked toward her. Around his feet, Dog leapt excitedly, wagging his shaggy gray-and-white tail.

Joyous, she grasped the pendant he had given her as he bent down to pet the mutt. “Welcome home, my lord.”

He stilled, then stood upright, brow arching. “Gwenyth.”

As he moved closer, his weariness was evident in his lean cheeks, the stubble dusting his jaw. Though tired, Aric still made her pulse leap. Despite his current mode of dress, the sculpted lines of his face and the breadth of his wide shoulders made him look something of a conquering Viking. She shivered.

“How good to have you home, Aric.” Rowena approached silently beside her, laying a slender hand upon his arm.

Gwenyth gritted her teeth at the woman’s use of her husband’s Christian name. She needed no reminders Rowena had shared her husband’s bed, for she could not forget it.

As Aric nodded in greeting, Rowena smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “I have prepared something of a feast in honor of your return. Come inside and let us sup.”

Rolling her eyes, Gwenyth stared at the wench. Aye, as if Rowena had been slaving in the hot kitchens all day in an effort to please Aric. And pigs would fly tomorrow.

Still, Gwenyth had not thought to order a feast for Aric’s return. In truth, she had believed he would not wish such. She cursed beneath her breath, certain Rowena knew something of Aric that she herself did not.

“Sup without me,” Aric said suddenly, surprising—and pleasing—Gwenyth. “I seek only the comfort of my bed.”

With that, he disentangled Rowena’s hold upon him and walked into the keep, sending Gwenyth a long stare. What had she seen in his eyes? A question? An invitation?

Beside her, Rowena stiffened and lifted her chin, then made her way inside as well, directly to the great hall. Gwenyth followed and was just in time to see Aric ascend the stairs, Dog at his heels, to his chamber. Their chamber.

Biting her lip, Gwenyth held on to her resolve to be a better friend, a better helpmate. With that in mind, she dashed to the kitchens.

“My lady!” Bessie greeted.

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