Sharon Schulze by To Tame a Warrior's Heart

Author:To Tame a Warrior's Heart [Heart, To Tame a Warrior's]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2011-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Late afternoon found Nicholas and Catrin plodding wearily along the rutted track leading to the gates of Ashby. Surprisingly, they met no one approaching or leaving the keep. The unnatural silence and the absence of people sent a chill down Catrin’s back.

“Nicholas, there’s no one working the land.” The fields surrounding the road were devoid of laborers and lay untended—nay, abandoned—for as far as she could see. It looked as though they’d seen neither scythe nor plow in many years, far too long for them to be left fallow.

“I know.” He led the mare to the side of the road. “’Tis eerie to see no one. These fields should have been plowed and planted, and we ought to have met someone on this road—it leads to the main gate of the castle.” His hand lowered to his waist, meeting the emptiness where his sword should be. “Damnation. I don’t like the feel of this at all. And to enter a strange stronghold unarmed—”

“But ’tis your keep. Surely there’s no danger to you.”

He tugged his hauberk off the mare’s back and unfolded it, spreading it over her rump. “At least I have this.” He wriggled into the armor. His head popped out of the neckline, the sight of his disheveled curls making Catrin’s fingers itch to smooth them.

She laughed. “You don’t quite have the look of an invincible warrior, I must admit.” But no one would ever mistake you for anything else, she thought as her gaze roamed over his powerful body and took note of the air of command that was so much a part of him.

“I doubt anyone here would recognize me under any circumstances. Who knows what they might do before they discover who we are?” He bent and slipped the small dirk into his boot, then buckled his belt and settled it about his waist. Checking the dagger and sharpened stick, he tucked them into the belt. “Although I must admit, the men they’ve sent me to train up as men-at-arms were singularly ill-prepared. There’s probably little threat. But I’d rather not take any chances with your safety. I brought you here to get well, not to harm you further.”

Catrin felt more secure simply knowing that Nicholas was prepared for adversity. He’d gone to so much trouble for her already. “A moment, Nicholas,” she said before he had a chance to walk away. He turned back to face her, his expression questioning. “Wear my favor, milord. For luck.”

“You honor me, milady,” he said formally, coming to stand before her. She reached down and tied one of the laces from her gown around his upper arm.

’Twas a Norman custom, one she’d only heard of. Catrin couldn’t have said why she’d had the sudden impulse, or why she’d given in to it. It appeared she’d done it properly. But now she felt a fool, until she chanced to look into Nicholas’s eyes.

He seemed pleased by the gesture. Capturing her hand in his, he raised it to his lips. “Are you ready?” He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, then closed her fingers over it.

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