Knave's Honor by Margaret Moore

Knave's Honor by Margaret Moore

Author:Margaret Moore
Language: ron
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER FOURTEEN

TRYING NOT TO LOOK at Lizette as she spread the coverlet back on the bed, her thin, almost-transparent shift straining against her buttocks, Finn removed his sword and belt. When Lizette got into bed and mercifully pulled the covers up to her chin before turning onto her side away from him, he placed them on the chest before removing the woolen tunic Wimarc had lent him. Scowling, he pulled off his boots, leaving on his breeches as he got in beside her.

For a long time, unable to sleep any better this night than he had the last, all too aware of Lizette’s shapely body so close by, he lay staring at the bed curtains. The only sounds that broke the silence were those of the watch exchanging muffled passwords, and Lizette’s breathing.

She was slumbering like an infant. God, she was a cool one—except that she’d seemed genuinely upset at his possible demise in the hall this evening. Maybe she did like him and not just because he could be useful to her.

What if she did care about him? It was likely only the way some ladies cared for their dogs or horses or caged birds.

It was no good. Sleep would not come, despite his exhaustion. Perhaps he should sleep on the floor after all. If a servant did intrude, they could always say they’d quarreled again over the accommodating Ellie.

He rose from the bed gingerly and gently tugged the coverlet from the bed. He took his pillow and made himself another bed—still finer than many he’d known—and was about to lie down when he decided to look outside. The moon was full and bright, not good for escaping, but excellent for seeing how many soldiers were on watch at this hour of the night.

At the window he leaned against the sill and surveyed first the wall walk, then the gate, then the courtyard. As before, there were a lot of guards.

He was about to draw his head inside when a furtive motion caught the corner of his eye. He searched the area near the stables—and saw a brief movement.

It was a woman, too plump to be Ellie, surreptitiously making her way to the side of the stable. He watched with growing excitement as she opened a narrow door and slipped inside.

If they were to create a diversion, there was nothing so good as a fire and frightened horses.

Was that door always unlocked at night? Did it even have a lock?



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