Leaves On The Wind. Carol Townend
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Название: Leaves On The Wind
Автор: Carol Townend
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
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“I should not have kissed you. You need my help. You are bound to respond for fear I might refuse you. I’m sorry.”
Judith took a deep breath. Words still seemed elusive. “Th…there’s no need to apologise,” she told him. “I do trust you.”
Rannulf stood in front of the window, a dark shadow silhouetted by the moonlight. “Do you? I hope you’re not put to the test too soon,” he said.
“Rannulf?” He sounded very cynical.
He moved impatiently. “Forget it.”
Judith opened her mouth.
“Forget it!” he said curtly.
Judith’s mouth snapped shut. She wrapped her arms about her middle.
Rannulf saw her shoulders droop. He gave a jaw-cracking yawn. “Hell’s teeth! I’m sorry, my princess,” he said, making “princess” sound like an endearment this time, so Judith did not mind it. “I’m tired. Let’s try and get some sleep,” he suggested in his old, more gentle voice. He gestured towards the couch. “You must have that, of course. I surmise that your recent accommodation has left you with a need that is greater than mine. Am I right?”
Judith nodded. “The ship was Hell,” she admitted.
“Rest then.”
Too weary to consider where Rannulf would take his rest, Judith staggered to the couch and collapsed on to the downy mattress. She dragged the light sheet over herself, for modesty’s sake, and her eyelids began to droop. Her limbs relaxed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rannulf had returned to kneel in the window seat, gazing out to sea.
She tried to force her mind back over their recent, confusing conversation. He implied she did not trust him. But why? Apart from her brother Saewulf, he was about the only man she did trust. Four years ago her instincts had told her he was trustworthy, and they had not let her down. She yawned and settled herself more comfortably in the bed.
Rannulf heard her. She saw his dark head turn at once in her direction. Judith smiled. She could trust him. He had not deserted her in the Chase. He had come back for her, and had looked for her—had even confronted the Baron for her sake. She knew she could trust him.
Sleep drew her into its healing embrace and the tiny smile remained on her lips.
She was woken by the light touch of Rannulf’s hand in her hair as he lifted a fine strand between his fingers, and measured its length. It seemed perfectly natural that he should be lying propped up on one elbow beside her.
“Good morning. You sleep like a babe,” he commented.
Judith felt very lazy. She was safe and content, and disinclined to move. A dim, grey light proclaimed that dawn was not far off. “Mmm.” Vivid green eyes smiled down at her. He was wide awake. “Didn’t you sleep?” she wondered dreamily.
“I slept. But not as deeply as you.” He shifted his gaze to his fingers which continued playing with her hair.
“You make me feel safe,” she admitted and stretched like a cat.
Slender fingers slid round to her cheek, and idly traced a circle. Judith flushed.
“Safe?” he teased. He was so close she could see the golden flecks dancing in his eyes.
“Aye,” she said huskily, all confusion.
He bent his head and planted a brief kiss on her lips. It was warm and gentle. It was reassuring, and quite without passion. Judith wanted more. She shifted on the couch. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to feel his arms around her. Her hand reached for his.
A bell tinkled in the corridor outside their chamber.
Judith hardly heard it. She’d caught at the sleeve of his robe, and could feel the muscles in his arm. They flexed beneath her touch.
Rannulf had stiffened. He glanced over his shoulder at the barred door. He swore softly. His hand still rested on Judith’s neck, but his eyes showed him to be miles away. Judith frowned, and covered his hand with hers, trying to bring him back. But the moment had gone, and although he responded by taking her fingers in his, the eyes that looked down into hers were clear and unclouded by emotion.
The bell rang again, more insistently. Judith heard it this time, and her blood ran cold. It could only mean one thing…
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