A Knight for the Defiant Lady by Carol Townend

Author:Carol Townend
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2023-01-18T18:52:19+00:00

Chapter Ten

With the horses watered and safely tethered to a straggly shrub, Leon scouted about for suitable branches with which to set up a shelter. He was all too aware of Allis unpacking the food and drink for their supper.

What had possessed him to mention Blancha? Desire had addled his wits. Leon could think of no other reason for him to behave so unprofessionally. He never talked about his past. Those kisses in the chapel had disordered his mind. Since then, all he could think about was Allis. Of how much he wanted to bed her. Which was impossible. Unbearably so. He was entrusted with her welfare and even if he weren’t, he wouldn’t harm a hair on her head. For the future Lady of Galard an association with a heretic mercenary would spell disaster.

Why then did he have the nagging feeling that he was at a crossroads, about to take a wrong turn? He didn’t understand it. He ached to open up to her. To a noblewoman descended from a line of Merovingian kings. One who was on the verge of marriage, whether he liked it or not, to one of the most unpleasant men he’d had the misfortune to meet.

He picked up a branch. Testing it for strength, he found it wanting and tossed it aside. Jésu, the thought of Allis marrying that man made his blood boil. There must be something he could do to prevent it.

None of which explained why he’d been so foolish as to mention Blancha. Allis had not been shocked, which was heartening, but questions had sprung to life in the back of her eyes. She was longing to know more. Well, he’d said more than enough. For his peace of mind, he must hold his tongue. He admired her, that was the trouble. What he felt for her was impossible to define, but it was far more than desire. Unfortunately.

Distance, man. Be professional.

He set about rigging up a shelter, managing not to look her way above a dozen times.

‘Is that necessary?’ Her soft voice reached him through the twilight. ‘The sky is clear. It doesn’t look as though it will rain.’

‘Best be prepared,’ he said, tightening a rope.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw she’d arranged bread and cheese on a blanket.

‘Are you nearly finished?’ she asked, wineskin in hand. ‘We have a feast here.’

‘Start without me.’

‘I’d rather wait. We shall eat together, but I shall have a drink.’

She removed the cork of the wineskin, held it aloft and tipped back her head so wine trickled into her mouth. It was a boy’s trick. A reluctant grin tugged the corners of Leon’s mouth as he wondered who’d taught her. Certainly not the nuns. It was probably Sir Hugo, or her father’s godson. Allis truly was remarkable. So down to earth, and yet when she needed them, she had airs and graces too. Their gazes caught. Held.

She smiled. ‘Almost ready?’

Leon stopped pretending to adjust the awning and joined her on the blanket.

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