Harlequin Historical October 2020--Box Set 2 of 2 by Blythe Gifford

Author:Blythe Gifford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

The younger knight spotted the dilapidated barn through the trees, the roof drooping precariously to one side. Bright green moss spangled the oak shingles. With a shout of glee, he spurred his horse onwards through the spindly trunks, then jumped down. He peered through the wide, open entrance, a roughly hewn piece of oak forming the low lintel above his head. ‘It’s dry inside, my lord,’ he shouted back to Lachlan. ‘There’s a stack of hay and some wood to light a fire.’

A great shudder rose in Cecily’s chest. The feeling of relief. Slumped back against Lachlan, his strong fingers splayed across her middle, holding her secure, she wasn’t certain how much longer she could have carried on. She was cold, but also exhausted from trying to hold herself away from him. Every time she bumped back against him, excitement sparked her chest, and, God forgive her, her belly and loins. She needed to peel herself away from him, regain some sanity, some sense of equilibrium. A place where she could gather her scattered thoughts.

The evening darkened to night. The falling sleet turned to snow, great fat flakes spinning lazily to the ground. The branches, hanging low, were dusted with white, sparkling, ethereal. Lachlan pulled on the reins; the firm, rounded muscle in his upper arms squeezed tightly around her shoulders. His horse swung to a stop in front of the barn. Lord Simon’s knights were already inside, sparks striking upwards in the gloom as they started a fire. Smoke billowed out, puffing fitfully, before being sucked up by a hole in the roof that acted as a makeshift chimney.

‘This will do for tonight.’ The comforting cage of Lachlan’s arms fell away and he leaned forward to dismount, his solid chest pushing heavily against her back. The heat from his body left her suddenly; Cecily shivered, feeling strangely bereft. She shook her head. This was not right. Where was the woman who managed the vast estates at Okeforde gone? Her incisive logical brain, the one that made clear, precise decisions, that never wavered—where had that gone? Lachlan had turned her world upside down; her mind and body were struggling to cope.

She tried to find the energy to dismount. Something that she had done a thousand times before. Feather-light flakes of snow landed on her eyelids, her cheeks, chill kisses that melted swiftly. Cecily rubbed the snow from her eyes, as if focusing more clearly would give her the physical power to dismount.

Lachlan stood on the ground beside her, one hand splayed across the animal’s neck. The snow had settled on the dark blue wool of his cloak, dusting the vivid brightness of his hair. ‘Shall I help you down?’ His eyes shone out, brilliant sapphires in the gloom.

Cecily bit down desperately on her bottom lip. ‘I… I can do it.’ Go away, she wanted to shout at him. Why did he make her feel so vulnerable? She had told him she was used to looking after herself, so why couldn’t she do it now? She needed some time, time to unfreeze her limbs.

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