Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) Read Free Page B

boxes. “There’s a pleasing grace about her.”
    Elinor removed two large paintings from their containers and set them against the sofa. She picked off the fragments of packing material stuck to them.
    Basil studied the artwork. The first was a beautiful woman in a long white gown. A dark-haired man in chain mail and surcoat knelt before her. The lady held a sword to his shoulder as though knighting him. It was titled, The Accolade.
    “Interesting paintings, don’t you think?” Basil asked, curious how Guy would interpret Elinor’s choice.
    “I think I’d rather bed the wench than be dubbed by her.” Guy peered over to where Elinor was dusting the frames. “Though, I’d not mind having her dub me.”
    “You are confusing dubbing with tupping.” Basil joked back and went to the sofa. “In my experience, women and swords are a bad combination.”
    The second picture, called Godspeed , showed a company of knights passing through a castle portcullis. One knight on horseback was stopped. A young woman with reddish gold hair bent to tie a fringed silk favor to his mailed arm.
    Basil tilted his head and critically appraised the works. “This is her ideal of what knights were like. This is the vision she is enamored with and has stamped on her heart.” A pensive sadness touched his eyes as he studied the art. Basil’s gaze lifted to Elinor. “Oh milady, sometimes it was this lovely, but more often, it wasn’t.”
    Long legs and more of the frilly panties revealed themselves as Elinor bent and picked up the empty picture boxes. Basil’s attention fixed on her. He took his time letting his eyes travel downward from her bottom, the length of her thigh, over her firm calves then back up in slow appreciation.
    Elinor half-hummed, half-sang along to another song.
    “Rhiannon,” Guy said and smiled over at Basil. “I went to Wales once, on king’s business, to sort out a problem on the border. One of the loveliest ladies I ever bedded was a Welsh maid I met there named Rhiannon.”
    Basil was fascinated as Elinor’s hips rolled to the rhythm of the music. Primitive in his opinion, and boldly sexual, he wanted the dance and song to go on and more. He wanted to slide his hand over every place his gaze touched. He wanted to know if her flesh was as smooth and warm as he imagined. He wanted to make her heart race with his caress. He wanted. The resurrected sensation astonished him.
    Elinor danced over to the table and gathered her hammer, nails and a pencil then danced back without missing a beat. She laid the hammer and nails down and held the pencil in her mouth.
    She stepped onto the sofa and raised the first picture to the wall. She struggled, staggering a bit in the soft cushions with the unwieldy painting’s weight. She positioned the picture and pencil marked a spot on the wall and then lowered the painting. Elinor hammered a nail in and with a small grunt lifted the painting up. She rocked back and forth on the cushion, barely managing to maintain her footing.
    Basil laid a palm under the bottom of the frame while Elinor hooked the wire over the nail.
    “Well, that was easier than I thought,” she said, and then shuddered. “Ooh.” She brushed the back of her legs vigorously and inspected the sofa.
    She sidestepped across the sofa, squinted to gauge the distance between the pictures. She marked another spot and then hoisted the second painting.
    Guy positioned himself behind Elinor on the left, while Basil stood on her right. Each took a corner of the frame and lifted as she raised the picture.
    “I must be getting used to the weight,” she muttered. She lowered the picture long enough to hammer a nail into place. Once again, the knights lifted the corners. Elinor hung the piece with ease.
    The knights lingered close to her.
    “Ugh, spiders!” Elinor cried in a strangled voice as she swatted, rubbed and shook her head repeatedly. She jerked back hard, lost her balance and tumbled backwards.

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