The Crusader's Heart by Claire Delacroix

Author:Claire Delacroix
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Deborah A. Cooke
Published: 2015-10-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Christina picked up the pot and went to Wulfe’s side, steadying his cup before she poured the rest of the warmed wine into it. “It is not cowardice to choose to live,” she said quietly. “Indeed, that is often the most bold choice of all.”

Wulfe exhaled, his expression solemn. “Understand, Christina, that my entire future rides upon the goodwill of the Grand Master in Paris. I have failed. I have betrayed Gaston’s trust and I have neglected my vows. That must change. I must reform my ways to ensure that I can remain with the order.” He eyed her. “Otherwise, I will starve.”

“For you will not become a mercenary, even to survive.”

“Never,” he said with quiet heat. “To live without principle is no life at all.”

“And you will not pledge to a nobleman’s service because you cannot be assured that his cause will always be just.”

He nodded again, no less grim than before. “The sole righteous path is with an order like the Templars.”

Christina granted him a smile, lifted the cup out of his hand, and sipped from it. “Yet where is it writ that I cannot help you?” Wulfe reached for the wine but she held it out of his reach. “Surely the rule requires that a knight sworn to the order be temperate?” she teased and was gratified to see his reluctant smile.

“You know my concern. We cannot lie together again.”

“But that does not mean that we cannot speak to each other, or that I cannot ride from Venice with your company,” she said, keeping her voice calm even though she feared he would spurn her suggestion. “I will be a pilgrim again, Wulfe, one returning home escorted by a noble knight. In truth, I would like the next man I welcome to my bed to be my lord husband, whoever that might prove to be.”

She saw his eyes flash then he pivoted to stride to the window. He looked down on the courtyard, and she had the definite sense that she had offended him.

“Am I not to spurn your touch then?” she asked. “I thought it would be better to facilitate your choice, then to cast myself at you and attempt to change your thinking on this matter with earthy persuasion.”

He snorted. “Wiser, certainly.” Wulfe lifted his gaze and surveyed her, his admiration clear. His voice dropped low. “But not better, not by any accounting.”

Their gazes locked, the intensity of his expression setting Christina’s desire alight all over again. He was right—their union had been a marvel, far beyond anything she had experienced before.

And she, for one, was not prepared to relinquish all hope of a future.

Indeed, she dared to believe that she might have found what she sought above all else. A champion, to be sure, but also a man who appreciated her for herself.

Not for her appearance.

Not for the skills she had learned in Costanzia’s house.

Not even for the legacy that she might claim with a man’s aid, the one Gunther had so desired.

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