The Bachelor Knight by Deborah Simmons

Author:Deborah Simmons
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Medieval
Publisher: 0
Published: 2010-01-07T07:08:01+00:00

Beren tried to sleep, but it would not come. He had made his bed on harder, colder spots, but none more painful to both body and spirit. All day, he had spent hiding from his past, closeted with Hubard, concentrating on the management of the demesne and redirecting the old man whenever he started to reminisce. But the place pressed upon him, like a weight against his chest, stifling his thoughts and stealing his breath.

Beren winced as the scent of roses wafted over him, making him dizzy with want, while rousing his blood to a fever pitch. Although he prided himself on his good sense, it appeared to have fled, for why else would he ache and throb for a woman with whom he could not even bear to talk? How had he come to marry the one woman who would not have him? And why was she even here, unmarried after all these years?

Beren seized upon that question, worrying it until he could not let it go. Had he not heard that she was betrothed at one time? Without examining too closely that memory, he wondered what had happened. Had the man died or been found wanting? The more Beren thought about it, the more tense he became. Finally, he rolled over and, staring at the bedcurtains, he spoke aloud into the dimness.

"What happened to your betrothed? Why did you not marry?" Beren asked, his voice harsh and accusing as he rose up on one arm. For a long moment, he thought she was asleep or feigning so and would not answer. Angry, he felt like striding over to rouse her; but, in his current state, he knew that was not a good idea. He shouldn't even be looking at her bed, he thought, even as the drapes fluttered and moved.

Although he had tried to forget everything to do with the lady of Brandeth, Beren knew that no matter how long he lived, he would ever remember the sight of those curtains parting. Whatever he thought, he wasn't expecting that, and he held his breath in tense anticipation, his heart thundering. When at last Guenivere was revealed in the dim light of the fire, he could see she was fully clothed, yet still he felt hot desire run rampant through him, for there she was, kneeling upon the covers, her hair loose and flowing…

" 'Twas broken off," she said simply. As if that marked the end of her comments on the subject, she reached up to draw the curtains once more. Beren's heart lurched, as if it would leap out of his chest in order to stay her hand.

"By whom?" he asked, hoarsely.

"By me," she answered, her eyes downcast.

She looked as if she did not care to speak of it, but suddenly it was imperative to Beren that he know. What had the man done? "Why?" he demanded, ready, despite all, to battle on her behalf.

With a sigh, Guenivere swung her legs round to sit on the edge of the bed.

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