Knight's Prize Read Free Page B

experience had taught him 'twas wise to keep
one's best weapons hidden until they were necessary.
    He
wondered how soon his blade would be needed. Already this undertaking was
proving troublesome. He'd hoped to spend a few days at Rivenloch, courting the
lady for appearance's sake, a few more hunting the thief, and have his prey
well in hand by the end of the week so he could return to collect the rest of
his pay.
    What
he didn't want
were complications. Already, the idea of leading an innocent maid down the path
of courtship when he had no intention of wedding her left a sour taste in his
mouth. Not to mention the fact that he'd be spending a great deal of time with
a lass about whom he knew naught.
    Morbroch
had assured him that the damsel was comely and sweet and, most important,
malleable, that she'd easily play into his deception. But now he wasn't sure he
entirely trusted Morbroch.
    Retrieving
his mount's reins, he clucked to urge the animal forward.
    As
far as he knew, Miriam might be a sharp-tongued shrew. Or a pouting child. Or
an old crone with rotting teeth and shriveled breasts. He shuddered inwardly.
    He'd
gone a good five yards when he suddenly remembered the wench in the tree. He
turned back, scanning the heavy-laden cedar branches overhead, still unable to
see anyone amid the thick green. But he could sense her presence.
    He
grinned. "Farewell, imp," he called softly, blowing her a kiss. Then
he turned to face whatever fate awaited him at Rivenloch Castle .
    ************************************
    The
moment he'd called her Mirabel, Miriel's eyes had flattened with displeasure.
If the knave was going to pretend infatuation, he could at least have the
decency to get her name right.
    Yet
despite her irritation, another part of her was intrigued. Numerous men in the
past year had expressed an interest in Miriel, but none had dared request to
court her Between
Sung Li guarding her like a mother hen and her sisters greeting any suitors with a
blade, men t ended to keep their
distance. Only Pagan Cameliard h ad gone so far as to offer
marriage, albeit a marriage of political convenience, and even
that had been usurped by Detrdre, who was now happily wed
to him and plump with
his babe.
    Her sisters would doubtless
have this prospect slinking back to Morbroch with his tail betwixt his legs
quicker than she could say, pleased to meet you.
    She
couldn't let that happen. Sir Rand had been up to some mischief here in the
woods, and she needed to know his true intentions.
    Still,
'twas a shame, she thought as she leaned her cheek against the soft moss
covering the cedar, watching the three men below converse. He was rather
handsome. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, and he looked nearly as
tall as Rauve. Between his brilliant smile, his perplexed brows, and his
adorable dimples, he was surely the most attractive man she'd ever seen. His
eyes sparkled like dark topaz. His voice was at once soothing and arousing.
And his tousled chestnut hair seemed to beg for the untangling touch of her
fingers.
    How
terrible would it be, she mused with a guilty blush, to play along with his
overtures, to overlook the likelihood that he had ulterior motives, and let
him court her anyway? Let him put his broad hands upon her waist... Let him
press gentle kisses upon her mouth and whisper endearments in her ear... Let
him unsheathe that dagger in his trews again and...
    In
the next moment, she was wrenched back to her senses. The men were leaving. But
as they turned down the path, and the horse's tail flipped in farewell, Rand paused, angling his head to look directly up at her.
Of course, he couldn't quite see her through the thick cedar boughs. But the
impact of his gaze made a queer shiver go through her. And when he blew her a kiss,
she almost felt the warmth of his breath upon her lips.
    The
instant they were out of sight, she clambered down and raced back through the
woods the way she'd come.   Mayhap Sir
Rand of Morbroch was