Margaret Moore - [Warrior 13] Read Free

know my name and nothing more?”
    In truth, he wanted to know everything about her, but he had achieved much already and did not dare tohope for more. “Perhaps that should be all, lest I discover you are wed or promised to another.”
    Her brows lowered as she studied him, and he cringed inwardly. Obviously, that had not been a wise thing to say.
    “I am not, but this is hardly the time or place to make introductions, sir.”
    He moved closer, almost as if pulled to her by an invisible thread. Maybe there was such a thread, for that might explain the tightening sensation he felt in his chest.
    As if by divine inspiration, he remembered something he had heard Blaidd Morgan say to a woman once. Blaidd attracted women like blossoms did a bee. “Please, won’t you take pity on me and tell me your name? Otherwise, I may risk injury in the tournament tomorrow, being overtired because I could not sleep for wondering.”
    Her brows, a shade darker than her hair, rose yet farther, and her green eyes that already sparkled like emeralds in a rich man’s ring seemed to glitter even more, and—he was very pleased to believe—with merriment. “So if I do not tell you my name, and you happen to be injured on the morrow, it will be my fault?”
    To his dismay, her glittering gaze faltered, and a frown clouded her visage. “I do not want such a responsibility. I assure you, sir knight, I already have enough burdens to bear.”
    The note of sadness in her voice touched his heart.
    “Forgive me, my lady, if I add to your distress in any way. I do not seek to add to the troubles you may have.”
    Her beautiful eyes widened, as if she was taken aback by his response. “It is a rare man who cares for a stranger’s woes.”
    Reece flushed again, for her tone was full of both wonder and praise.
    Then that gloriously merry glimmer seemed to light her from within again. “Besides, you have not told me your name, either.”
    She straightened her shoulders and issued a charming challenge. “If you first tell me your name, humble petitioner, I shall tell you mine.”
    His heart started to pound as it did before a lance charge and new hope thundered into life with it. She must not think him a complete fool after all. “My name is Sir—”
    “Anne!”
    The man’s bellowing voice echoed off the walls of the corridor and the unknown beauty tensed as if she had just been caught perpetrating a serious crime.
    God save him, he had not considered how it would look to others if they were seen or found together. He had been too intent upon learning who she was. Be fore he could speak, she did.
    “Go!” She ordered him as if he were a foot soldier.She pointed down the corridor to the door at the opposite end. “Leave me to deal with Damon.”
    Who, in the name of the saints, was Damon, and what was he to her? Brother? Cousin? Betrothed?
    Not the latter, he most fervently hoped.
    Whoever he was, as the dark-haired man came charging toward them, another dark-haired, bigger man following right behind, it was obvious he could not leave this fascinating young woman to deal with them alone.
    If there was fault here, it was not hers. She had not enticed him or led him there, and he would certainly make that very clear.
    As the two men bore down upon them, he recognized them as the men who had been sitting beside her in the king’s hall. Because she had been paying no heed to them, and she was fair while they were dark, he had assumed they were not relations or had any claim upon her.
    Obviously he was wrong, and if he had not been distracted by Blaidd right before she left the hall, he might have seen her speak to them. Unfortunately, Blaidd had just chastised him for staring, then started to tease him. Reece had turned away to tell his Welsh friend that Blaidd had quite the history of being distracted by women himself, so he should keep his mouth shut. If she had talked to these fellows, he had missed it.
    The woman—Anne, he now knew—shoved him