Knight of Seduction by Cheryl Holt

Author:Cheryl Holt [Holt, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

CHAPTER SEVEN

Anne stood on the battlements, peeking over the edge to the action down in the yard. Hugh and his knights were sparring with fists, swords, and other weapons. For a good portion of everyday, he worked them, ensuring they remained sharp and ready.

She’d tried to stay away from the daily sessions, but with the first clang of steel on steel, she would sneak out to spy.

It was thrilling to observe the burly, bare-chested men as they grappled for advantage. Hugh was particularly remarkable, which was why she couldn’t keep away. In their personal dealings, he was unfailingly polite and considerate of her, so it was fascinating to see this side of him.

He was stronger and shrewder than the others, the ablest and most dangerous opponent. He never lost even the most brutal match, and Anne was secretly proud of his menacing prowess.

In past years, Ranulf had nearly always been gone from Morven, so Blodwin had been in control. When villainy occurred, she mustered meager responses. Her men were poorly trained and equipped, and they’d refused to chase after agitators.

If any miscreants caused trouble now, they’d be in for a surprise. There would be no exhausted farmers plodding after them. Hugh would ride them down, and Anne didn’t like to imagine the consequences for anyone who dared to break the peace.

Blodwin had also been negligent in maintaining the castle’s defenses, and Hugh was correcting that lapse. Boys had been conscripted to learn how to fight, and some from the wealthier families in the area were being tutored as pages and squires.

Once Hugh had the castle more secure, his knights would head back to the Holy Land to join with King Richard. They would take their new charges with them, and everyone was excited that local sons would have a chance at glory and adventure.

They would come home rich. They would come home heroes. Every person—high and low—had a stake in their rise to fame and fortune.

Footsteps sounded, and Anne glanced over to see Rosamunde marching toward her.

Since the morning Rosamunde had discovered the bounty lavished on Anne by Hugh, they’d rarely spoken, and Anne was saddened by their rift.

She’d like to repair it, but didn’t know how. Nor did she suppose she ought. Blodwin and Rosamunde had no good intentions toward Hugh, and in any quarrel between them, Anne’s loyalties were with Hugh.

Always and forever with Hugh.

She’d been married in the church, before God and witnesses, and she would never imperil her soul by shirking her duty as a wife. And she had to admit that her duty wasn’t turning out to be awful as she’d expected.

Their antics in the dark of night were enthralling beyond measure.

While she still grieved that she would never go to the convent, she couldn’t be sorry that Hugh had shown her another path. Especially when that path was so exhilarating.

“Were you aware of this?” Rosamunde asked before Anne could greet her.

“Of what?”

Rosamunde thrust a piece of parchment into Anne’s hand.

“Your husband”—she pronounced the word husband like an epithet—“has decided I must wed.

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