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Authors: Diane Darcy

Tags: #Medieval Time Travel

She Owns the Knight (12 page)

BOOK: She Owns the Knight
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She wouldn’t borrow trouble. As always, what Kellen didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

***

Gillian, although very pretty in the sunlight, didn’t seem to know how to comport herself. She challenged him, surprised him, laughed at him, and was unlike any female he’d ever met. Facing ten men in battle made him less nervous than one look from her laughing blue eyes.

And yet, much as Kellen needed to get his thoughts back on work, he couldn’t seem to force himself to leave. He tried to think of something to say, something that would keep her smile in place, but, as always, nothing came to mind.

Gillian’s cheeks pinkened under his scrutiny and she turned away, displaying her profile. “Kellen, I was wondering, which direction did you say the nearest town is?”

Kellen instantly went cold. “Why would you wish to know this?” he asked quietly. Could she hope to escape him still?

“I’m just trying to orient myself. Maybe I’m hoping to find a mall.” Her lips quirked as her tone teased. At his blank stare her smile widened. “Some shops?”

“Ah.” Kellen felt sudden relief. She was a covetous little thing, there was no doubt of that. He glanced at the ring she had yet to give him and considered all the treasures she hoarded in her pack. The pack that even now her maid carried. Gillian did like her trinkets. He glanced at the comb, still in her hair, then thought of his own stash of treasures. He’d have to see if he had something more she would like. “Nay. I’ll not tell you the location.”

Her mouth parted in surprise. “You won’t tell me where the town is?”

Amused by her frustration, he slowly shook his head.

“You seriously won’t tell me?”

“I will not.”

Gillian crossed her arms, lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Do you have a map?”

“Aye, but as a woman you would be unable to read it. It would only confuse your mind.”

Gillian sighed at his attitude, threw up her hands, turned and walked away.

Surprised at how easily he baited her, and at how much he enjoyed doing so, he fell into step beside her. She looped her arm through his and he couldn’t help but grin, amazed at how freely she touched him. And at how quickly his body responded.

He was tempted to place his hand over her own, or to kiss the top of her head, but refrained, aware of their audience and wary of her reaction. He’d have to content himself with teasing. “Mayhap after you give me an heir or two, I’ll take you traveling. It would please me to show you London, Italy, and France.” It would be fun to show her everything and see it again through her eyes.

She glanced up, her eyes alight at the prospect, but she simply lifted a shoulder. “That’s your big plan? To keep your wife barefoot and pregnant until she’s done her duty and then she can have some playtime?”

Kellen laughed. “I’d not thought to take your shoes, but ’tis a good idea. ‘Twill keep you close to home.” At her raised brow, he laughed again. “Mayhap your duty will feel as play?”

Gillian chuckled. “Oh yeah, childbirth without anesthesia should be a blast. Fun, fun.”

“I referred to the making of children.”

Though her cheeks pinkened once more, Gillian chuckled again. “As a man, you would.”

Kellen couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face. This girl was just so different. He’d never in his life teased a girl and been teased in return. Now he found it came easily and that he enjoyed it.

Kellen tried to think of something else to say and wished he were better with women. He wanted her to settle and be happy. But how? She wore the green dress again. “Mayhap you would like some material? For a gown or two?”

Gillian stopped and faced him, her head tilting back. “Can you please tell me why everyone wants me to take up sewing so badly? What is it you’re doing today? Maybe you should be sewing instead.”

Kellen laughed and several of his men joined in, quickly stifling their mirth at a narrow-eyed glance from Gillian. “I’ve the training of my men to see to.”

Gillian brushed her free hand over his upper arm as if feeling his muscles and testing their hardness. Kellen tensed, the blood in his veins seeming to heat. He barely refrained from bunching his muscles so she could truly see how firm he was.

Seeming to realize what she did, she pulled her hand away and flushed. He immediately missed her touch and wished he knew how to set her at ease and assure her she was welcome to caress him at any time.

“Well, I was attacked recently, remember?” she said. “Maybe you should train me, too. You know, show me some self-defense techniques.”

Kellen, immediately insulted that she believed she needed such, shook his head. “Nay. Now you are in my care, I will protect you at all times. You’ve no need for concern or training.”

Gillian shrugged. “Fine. I have my own way to defend myself, anyway. Have you ever heard of mace?”

Kellen looked down at her. “Yes. I have several.” And he very much doubted she could swing one above her head.

“Well, I guess it’s actually pepper spray, but it’ll do the job.” Gillian dropped her arm from his and turned to retrieve her pack from Beatrice, leaving Kellen feeling a sense of loss. She dug about, finally pulled something out, and held it up triumphantly. “Check it out.”

The object in her hand looked to be a long, smooth, rounded black stone, with yellow and red markings. It fit neatly into her palm. ’Twould be difficult to hurt anyone with it and the thrower would need good aim and much muscle behind the launch. Kellen couldn’t help it. He laughed. She obviously didn’t know what a mace was.

Gillian’s eyes narrowed and she walked a few feet away, held her hand high, and a mist was released from the weapon. Kellen got sudden chills. He’d seen the like when a traveling magician had passed a few nights in his keep, and wondered how Gillian had learned the trick. She walked backward, away from the dissipating mist and gestured toward it. “Go ahead and walk though and then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

Kellen hesitated, then fearing to look a coward before her, threw out his chest and strode through the clouded air.

Tristan, curious as always, followed.

Kellen’s eyes started to sting, he sucked in a breath, and immediately coughed as his throat burned. “By the saints!”

Gillian looked suddenly worried. “Oh, dear. I should have told you. I didn’t think—”

Kellen coughed again, then hurried forward and snatched the object out of her hands and looked at it. He was appalled as his eyes watered and his throat clenched.

A clever trick, but all the same, quite useless. It would be hard for her to get an enemy to stand still long enough for her to release the mist, and then harder still to get the enemy to walk through it. Besides, in the heat of battle, naught would care for stinging eyes when the sting of steel was ever imminent.

But Gillian looked worried, so he shrugged off the pain and gave her back the toy.

“Kellen, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“’Tis naught.” Kellen wiped at the tears running down his face. He coughed. “Go with a guard at all times.” His voice was hoarse. “Stay with your maid. You will be safe enough.”

She looked worried and guilty. He knew how to relieve her mind. Kellen gestured to two men. “If Lady Gillian tries to leave the keep, stop her and take her shoes. She’s to stay within the walls.”

Gillian was instantly indignant. “Maybe I wanted to take a walk to the river or the village?”

Kellen shook his head at her. “Not without me.”

“Have you ever been told that you are infuriating, bossy, and stubborn?”

Kellen struggled not to laugh and cough at the same time. “I could accuse you of the same.”

“And obtuse. You are definitely obtuse.”

He didn’t know the meaning of the word, but was loathe to admit it. He threw out his chest. “I have much to see to this day and cannot stand about talking.”

Gillian made a sweeping motion with her hand inviting him to leave. “Please, don’t let me stop you.”

But he didn’t leave. He was enjoying her company too much and, even with watering eyes, wanted to linger.

“You realize that while you’re off doing important knightly stuff, I’ll probably be stuck plucking chickens?”

“If the task is unpleasant, perhaps you should spend the day humbling yourself as befits my wife.”

Gillian huffed, shot him a disbelieving look, then walked away.

He watched her go, suddenly worried he’d gone too far with his teasing and had truly angered her. He was about to start after her when, in a loud voice, she started to sing about the difficulties of being humble.

The singing continued as she rounded the corner and, even with his eyes and throat burning, Kellen couldn’t help a grin. He wanted to go after her again and it was hard to stop himself. Tristan, wiping at his eyes, came to stand beside him and they watched her round the inner wall. “You do realize you are the luckiest of swag-bellied miscreants? She’s a beautiful and lively heiress. What I would not give for such.”

Kellen felt for Tristan, who was not in much of a position to marry well, and who would never have Gillian, even if he were. She was Kellen’s and he was still amazed by that realization. “Your time will come.”

When she was out of sight, they raced to the horse trough and dipped their heads in the water.

Chapter Twelve
 

A few hours later Gillian and Beatrice scouted for a place to sit with an excellent view. Kellen didn’t want her to go anywhere? Fine. Then he could babysit her. She was going to sketch big brawny men hacking away at each other.

Utter bliss.

Beatrice, finally satisfied with a location under a blossoming apple tree, spread out the blanket. She offered Gillian a smaller one as a shawl, which she refused, and they both settled under the branches. Gillian fluffed her dress into a semicircle and couldn’t help a smile. The dress made her feel like a fairy princess and she loved it. She had to admit that, as far as fantasy getaways went, this one topped any list she could have devised.

Kellen didn’t see her, or was ignoring her, as he fought another man, and, eyes wide, Gillian realized she was literally holding her breath as the men swung swords at each other. The yelling, the clanging of metal, Kellen, muscles straining, forcing the other man back and finally into defeat. Wow.

“He’s a fine warrior, do you not think?” asked Beatrice.

“The best.” Gillian, breathless, couldn’t help but agree. “Very impressive.”

They watched as Kellen fought another, then a third. Eventually it dawned on Gillian that he was showing off for her and a smile spread across her face.

Picking up her pad of paper, Gillian started to draw. He was a lot fiercer than she’d realized and so buff! The lines of muscles, bunching and shifting in his arms and legs were impressive in their sheer size and strength. She was used to guys getting their physiques at the gym, not on the battlefield, and now realized there was a vast difference. Watching a guy work out with weights couldn’t touch watching a warrior train to defend what was his. She felt weak and fluttery just watching him. Wow again.

It was a little cold and overcast, but Gillian felt overheated. Maybe it was just the excess material of the dress, but somehow she didn’t think so.

“My lady, I’ve brought dried fruit, or some nuts, if you’d like such?”

“Mmm. I’m okay.” Gillian’s mouth was watering, but not for food. She tried to keep track of Beatrice’s chattering and answer appropriately, but all the while she kept an eye on Kellen, continuing to draw him.

He really was the ultimate eye candy. She was enjoying watching him so much it took a moment to realize he was coming toward her.

Her face tilted up when he finally reached her, and she quickly hugged the drawing to her chest. He wasn’t even breathing hard and Gillian’s heart fluttered again.

“What do you, Gillian?”

“Nothing, just hanging out, watching all the eye candy parading about.”

“Eye candy?”

“Sweets for the eyes instead of for the mouth.”

Kellen nodded, glanced away, and Gillian bit back a smile when she saw him blush.

It was so cute she couldn’t resist heaping on more flattery. “You know, Kellen, I’ve never seen a warrior quite like you before. You’re very strong.”

Kellen’s chest puffed out. “Think you?”

Gillian nodded and let her gaze drift down his body and back to his face. “I really do.”

To her delight, the red in Kellen’s cheeks intensified as he cleared his throat. “I must needs be to protect you from all the trouble you draw upon yourself.”

Gillian laughed, and when her sketchpad dropped forward onto her lap, Kellen was quick to look at the brawny warrior she’d started drawing.

“Is that me?”

 
Gillian smiled. “Maybe, maybe not. I’ve drawn the fiercest warrior on the field.”

“Me then.”

Gillian laughed. “No modesty there.”

“Modesty is overrated as a virtue, good only for men without strength or skill.” His heated gaze dropped to her lips and it was Gillian’s turn to blush. Was he thinking of kissing her? Trying out some of his other skills? Her lips parted and softened of their own accord. She’d be glad to help him test his aptitude in that area.

Kellen sucked in a breath, then looked back at his men, many of whom watched the interplay. Kellen’s brows rose and the men immediately moved back and set to work.

“Will you walk with me?”

Gillian glanced at Beatrice, who seemed intent on her mending.

He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Alone.”

The look Kellen gave Gillian raised her temperature again and she scrambled to her feet. “Beatrice, I’ll be back later.”

“Aye, my lady. I’ll take your things to your room.”

 
Kellen leaned down to pick up a small blanket and draped it around Gillian’s shoulders. He took her sketchpad, set it next to her pack, and held out his hand.

They walked through the orchard and to a flower garden on the other side. “Do you like gardening? By midsummer many flowers will be in bloom. If there is aught you have need of you must plant whatever you like.” His grip tightened, loosened, then tightened again, a nervous gesture.

He released her hand, and Gillian flexed her abused fingers without pointing out to him he’d almost crushed them.

Pulling out a small knife, Kellen leaned down, cut a flower, and handed it to her. “I know not what kind it is.”

Gillian smiled. “A rose?”

“Ah, aye, ’tis a rose.”

His obvious embarrassment was touching and she carefully held the flower so the thorns didn’t prick. She sniffed. “Mmm. It’s beautiful.”

Kellen looked relieved. Did he think she would reject his offering? Gillian lowered the flower and tilted her face up. “Thank you.”

Kellen stared down at her, his expression suddenly intense, heated. Gillian realized they were completely alone for the first time since she’d arrived and didn’t move. He was going to kiss her, and she very badly wanted him to. He leaned down and Gillian flinched as a drop of rain hit her upturned face.

Kellen immediately jerked backward only to stare down at her with yearning, before taking a deep breath and a step back. He looked up at the sky. “I’m glad for the rain as we have all the crops planted.” His voice sounded strained, tight.

“You sound like a farmer.” Gillian tried to keep the conversation going, tried to get him to look at her again because she, for one, was not glad for the stupid rain. She’d wanted that kiss.

“Aye. That I am. I have many mouths to feed and much of the land has been seeded.” Without looking at her, Kellen lifted the blanket to cover her head, tightened it around her shoulders, then grabbed her hand again, tugging her toward the keep.

Gillian sighed as disappointment swamped her. She wanted a kiss before she had to go home. Wanted his mouth on hers, his arms wrapped around her, hers twined about his neck. She wanted that kiss before Edith showed up to claim him for herself.

Sudden jealousy, dark and biting, had her lips tightening and her heart pounding. If Edith were anything like her murderous sister, she didn’t deserve Kellen. Feeling protective, Gillian tightened her grip on Kellen’s hand, and he gently squeezed her fingers in return, his warmth sending chills up her arm.

Kellen deserved a girl who would appreciate his finer qualities. Understand his gruffness, flirt with him. Someone like . . . someone like . . .

Gillian took a breath. If she wasn’t careful, she’d lay her heart out on a platter and get it smashed to smithereens when she had to go home.

She needed to remember to keep her heart safe. She would not fall in love with the big guy. She needed to remember that this was just for fun. A brief holiday romance. She only had a few weeks and didn’t plan on getting hurt again.

***

Later that night, Gillian lay in bed, warm, cosy and snuggled in the blankets and furs.

She couldn’t wipe the sappy grin off her face. At dinner she hadn’t been able to, either.

She could hear the rain outside hitting the wooden shutters and hoped Kellen was warm and dry. He’d gone off after dinner to hunt down some miscreants and, as far as she knew, hadn’t returned.

Gillian turned over. Kellen was just so . . . so . . . wonderful. What would it be like to have a man like Kellen truly belong to her? To see the possessive gaze and know that she really did belong to him?

She thought about Ryan and the smile left her face. They’d dated for a good six months and she’d been stressed and off kilter the entire time.

And okay, she cringed, sort of desperate, too. It was embarrassing to remember how she’d acted. When she’d found out the guy was looking for easy money, she’d been ashamed of herself for sticking it out. For being a doormat so he would love her. For being so lonely, she’d traded in her self-respect for companionship.

She should have trusted her instincts.

So what were those instincts telling her about Kellen? All she felt was happy. But what did it really matter? She was being foolish. She couldn’t compare the two. Her boyfriend had been real life, and Kellen, well, he was fantasy. Like a hologram from an episode of Star Trek. Fun, but not real.

It was just the romance of the time and place affecting her so much. The castle, the candle glowing beside her bed, the way he’d held her hand. The kiss that almost happened.

It was like she was in a fairy tale with the starring role as princess. She turned over again and plumped the pillow once more. She’d have this time as a happy memory in her heart, nothing else. No hurt or pain this time, just good memories.

She snuggled down to sleep, then quickly sat up, blew out the candle, and laid back down.

After a moment, she realized she was smiling again.

She was so getting that kiss before she left.

***

After lunch the next afternoon, it was still raining, so Gillian retrieved her pad of paper and headed downstairs, bumping into a boy at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, sorry.”

She reached out a hand to steady the boy, who cringed back. “Sorry, sweetie. Just me not paying attention to where I was going. Are you okay?”

The boy, a wide-eyed teen of about fifteen or so, nodded.

“What’s your name? I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Gillian.” She held out her hand.

The boy stared at her hand for a moment, then looked up into her face. “Valeric, my lady.”

Gillian dropped her hand when he made no move to take it. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Valeric. I’ll try to pay better attention in future so I don’t run you down.”

The boy backed away. “Yes, my lady.” Then he was gone.

By the time she reached the great hall, the food had been cleared away, and Kellen’s three foster boys sat on the straw-covered floor at the foot of a young, brown-robed man who looked to be tutoring them.

A little girl, about three or four, stood off to the side in front of the fire and watched the boys as a woman, probably the child’s mother, knitted in a nearby chair.

The yearning on the girl’s face caught Gillian’s attention. The scene would make a fantastic painting, a large one, done in oils, with light colors, dark shadows, rain buffeting wooden shutters, and the fire brightening the girl’s face and illuminating her longing.

Genius if Gillian could pull it off.

The tutor turned the book on his lap so the boys could study it, and the little girl leaned forward, obviously wanting to see.

Quietly, not wanting to distract anyone, Gillian pulled her digital camera out of her pack, looked around, and snapped a quick photo. She didn’t use the flash for fear of seriously freaking people out and risking the whole burn-the-witch-at-the-stake scenario. Still, she got the gist of the scene in case she needed to refer back to it later.

After stowing her camera, Gillian headed over to the table between the boys and the young girl. “Hi. What’s going on?”

Everyone glanced up at her approach, the tutor raising one brow. Gillian noted he wore a crucifix around his neck. “We are about our lessons. Please refrain from interrupting.”

“Oh. Right,” whispered Gillian. “Sorry.” She quickly sat on a bench beside a nearby table.

The tutor sighed. “’Tis Lady Corbett, correct?”

“Yes, nice to meet you.”

He ignored that. “As a female, you ought not to listen as Latin might tax your wits.”

Gillian’s mouth fell slightly open as she looked to see if the guy was serious. Stern-faced, arrogant, younger than she’d realized, not bad-looking in a boy-next-door sort of way, and completely serious. She grinned. “Yeah, that’s okay. I’ll chance it.”

Gillian glanced around, wondering where Kellen was. He’d disappeared right after breakfast, and she considered hunting him down as that might be more fun, but didn’t want to go out in the rain. She could find him later if he didn’t show.

Anyway, medieval school might be interesting, and would certainly make her painting more unique if she could pick up a feel for what was happening.

The tutor started up again, but Gillian got bored pretty quickly. The little girl was still interested, but probably because school and knitting were the only things to hold her attention.

Gillian opened her pad of drawing paper and tore a piece from the back end. She beckoned the little girl and the child looked startled then wary, but after a quick glance at the knitter, eventually walked over. “My lady?”

BOOK: She Owns the Knight
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