Medieval Master Lords by Kathryn le Veque

Author:Kathryn le Veque [Veque, Kathryn le]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

***

It had been, in fact, one of the longest afternoons of his life. Bertram de Rosa, having been the more congenial out of the group of de Rosa men, had turned into something of a barracuda when his daughter had left the room. It was as if, suddenly, a taper had been lit in his mind and he pounded Garren with questions for several hours. Politics, religion, and education- no subject escaped him. It was if he suddenly had to know everything about the man, immediately. By the time the sun set, Garren was exhausted. Sup was a few hours off, but he fully expected the interrogation to resume at mealtime. At the moment, he was grateful for the intermission.

It was the first time He is been at Framlingham and discovered it to be an enormous place. The wall walk seemed to go on forever. He had made his way up onto the battlements, watching the last of the sun, the dancing colors across the deepening sky. It was peaceful and he welcomed it. Now and again a sentry would pass him and hardly give him a glance.

A chill breeze was kicking up. Garren leaned back against the stone, his big arms crossed and his brow furrowed in thought. The Lady Derica de Rosa, he repeated over and over in his mind. He pondered the long honey-colored hair, silken-looking with its loose curls. He thought about her great green eyes, huge things that stared back at him as if they could read into his soul. He mulled over the shape of her face, the way her lips curved into the shape of a rosebud. He even liked the contours of her nose. She was rather tall for a woman, and rather robust, with delicious curves. Not that she was heavy by any means, but she wasn't a frail little thing, either. She was quite tasty in his opinion. The Marshal hadn't lied in the least.

A gust of cold wind came up, whistling past his ears. He was standing near the northeast tower when he heard something that didn't sound at all like the wind. There was someone lingering in the shadows of the tower, just inside the top of the stairs. He didn't flinch or try to see who it was; he simply stood there and waited. Whoever it was would make themselves known soon enough. His dagger, well concealed, was within easy reach.

Another gust of wind arose and he caught the distinct scent of flowers. He didn't know which kind because he wasn't very good at that sort of thing. But the scent alone told him who was lying in wait for him.

"You know," he said casually, "if your father finds you out here with me, without an escort, we would both be in for a good deal of trouble."

There was no immediate reply. After a moment, he heard soft footfalls coming towards him. Very leisurely, he turned his head to see Derica emerging into the moonlight. She looked beautiful, dressed in a burgundy surcoat and a matching heavy cloak.

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