The Legacy Read Free Page B

studied nonchalance, he dismissed them both. “Go along then. And enjoy your wedding night. Pity it will not be a first—for either of you.”
    Wolf stiffened in outrage. The daughter’s lips thinned.
    Wolf could not let the insult pass. He loomed over the diminutive baron, making certain he had his full attention. “Do not think we are finished. Never think that. One day, when this is over, we will meet again. And on that day, we will settle all our debts.”
    The baron peered up at Wolf and paled. Apparently, his courage deserted him, for he turned and hurried away, almost knocking over a manservant in his haste to get to his horse. The man dashed after the baron and struggled to hoist him into the saddle. Once mounted, the baron rode away without a backward glance. His various minions scrambled after him. The daughter stared with amazement at his rapidly retreating back, and the churchyard soon emptied of all but the bride and groom.
    “Well,” Wolf said, arching a brow. “I suppose this means no wedding feast.”
    A soft groan escaped the girl. Her gown fluttered like a conquered flag in the wind, and she closed her eyes.

Chapter 2
    W olf felt Lady Sabina’s weight press against him.
    “Are you ailing?” he asked with some concern, reaching out a hand. She withdrew, and Wolf would not have been surprised to hear an audible crack as she stiffened her spine.
    “I am fine. The day has been long.”
    He squinted at her. “The cock has barely crowed.”
    “My life has been long, then.” She looked away.
    He refrained from saying he was several years older than she. The weary set of her shoulders made him agree with her conclusion.
    He found the horse her father had left, a skinny palfrey with a swayed back. While the ancient beast creaked when it walked, it would last long enough to get them home.
    Sanctuary.
    He felt his spirits lift a little in spite of his foul mood. He retrieved his own horse and walked both up the path, noting the gathering storm clouds. If they weren’t quick about it, they would be caught in a downpour. He went to the girl and motioned her toward the horse.
    “Up,” he said.
    She straightened her back, her steady blue gaze trapping his. “Are you speaking to me or to the horse?”
    He lifted an eyebrow. “Why you, of course, unless you intend for the horse to ride.”
    The girl clasped shaking hands in front of her, but when she spoke again her voice was steady. “Master Behaim. It is customary to use a form of address when engaging another in polite conversation. My name is Sabina. You have my permission to use it. If you prefer, you may call me ‘Baronesse’ or ‘my lady.’ In a pinch, I suppose, ‘Frau Behaim’ will do. But ‘you,’ implied or otherwise, is not an acceptable alternative, particularly when speaking to one of noble descent.”
    His jaw dropped open at her speech.
    She pointed at his mouth. “You will catch flies with that.”
    His jaw snapped shut, and he regarded her with genuine interest. A fire crackled in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. He knew few men with the fortitude to talk back to him, let alone women. He stood back and sketched a sweeping bow.
    “If it would please Your Majesty, your steed awaits,” he said with a mocking flourish.
    “That, too, would be an inappropriate form of address, given my station.”
    He was no longer amused. “Get on the cursed horse—”
    She trembled at his forbidding tone, but she did not comply.
    “— my lady,” he finally ground out.
    She tilted her head. “It would be my pleasure.”
    She reached for the pommel, but when she tried to pull up, she rose only halfway and slid down again. She looked at him in consternation.
    “May I?” he said stiffly, his desire to aid her in conflict with his desire to abandon her to her own devices.
    She nodded. When he lifted her up to place her in the sidesaddle, her small breasts brushed against his chest. A curl of long black hair feathered across his cheek.