Dragon's Knight. Catherine Archer
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Название: Dragon's Knight

Автор: Catherine Archer

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon Historical

isbn: 9781474016865

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ the slender line of her jaw. He felt a stirring inside him, a desire to touch, though he knew that he could not do so, for to touch a butterfly was to destroy its ability to fly.

      He was shocked at this fanciful thought, for it was so unlike him.

      It was not the first time he had thought of this girl. Many years ago when he was a boy of fifteen, he had met her when she, so small she could barely be more than a babe, had come to bid her brother, Christian, Godspeed before his journey to the Holy Land. She had been such a little child, straining to see King Richard as he rode by the troops, who had gathered for the journey. He had felt an unfamiliar twinge of affection and protectiveness, reaching down to lift her up. She had weighed next to nothing as he had raised her up to see above the crowd of soldiers.

      Now there was a difference in his reaction to Christian’s young sister that he could not quite put his finger on. And, strangely, he felt an intense reluctance to attempt to name it.

      Jarrod had no personal interest here other than to find Christian.

      Even as she watched him, her gaze darkened with some deep emotion that he could only read as sadness. He felt that tug in his belly once more and deliberately focused his attention on her father again. “I take it, my lord, that you still have no idea of your son’s whereabouts either.”

      Lord Thomas Greatham shook his gray head. “Nay, I do not.” He bowed with studied politeness. “But really, sir, you need not concern yourself with our difficulty. It was wrong of Aislynn to bring you all this way.”

      Jarrod frowned. “Not at all, my lord. As I said, Christian is as my brother. I am happy to be informed that there is a problem, as was Simon who would have come as well if it were not for his duty to his lands, not to mention his new bride.” Simon was indeed well and happily occupied, having found more bliss with the daughter of his enemy Kelsey than Jarrod would have thought possible. But he did not wish to think on that now, nor the fact that any thought of Kelsey reminded him of the untimely and unjust death of The Dragon, the very man who had brought himself and his two friends together as fosterlings.

      The loss of his foster father still brought a wave of pain. The Dragon had taken an angry lad of thirteen and taught him that he was the master of his own fate, had not only made him knight but a man. Jarrod chafed under the knowledge that he and his friends had been denied retribution against Kelsey by a king who loved those who were of like nature as himself.

      Knowing these thoughts gained him nothing, Jarrod looked to Lord Greatham. “Neither Simon nor myself would have you do aught but contact us about this matter.”

      Jarrod recalled Aislynn’s obvious understanding of their brotherhood, and felt an unwanted rush of kinship toward her. He knew again a strong pull of awareness that centered in his lower belly. Instantly Jarrod called himself firmly to task.

      He forced himself to look at her again, to see her clearly as the child she was. It was almost with relief that, as he swept her form, which was enveloped in a gown of heavy sapphire velvet, his eyes told him that she was indeed a tiny waif of a girl with fragile bones. And her blue eyes were, as they had been the first time he saw her, too large for her heart-shaped face.

      He also recalled a blond braid of so pale a shade that it was not readily forgotten. His gaze slid over the hood that completely concealed her hair. The honey of her brows and lashes made him wonder if it had darkened as many children’s did as they approached adulthood.

      At the moment, his eyes met those blue ones again and he saw that they bore an expression of uncertainty as well as sadness over her brother’s disappearance. He found himself thinking that he would do whatever he must to see that sadness gone from her eyes. To see her smile.

      His gaze went to those lips, which were not smiling now. Her tongue flicked out to dampen the lower lip, which seemed more full than before. He felt a stab of awareness and found himself once more looking into the blue eyes that were watching him with an expression he could not begin to name.

      The baron’s voice intruded on Jarrod’s thoughts like a cold draft as he said, “I appreciate your enthusiasm, sir, but I am certain you must have your own matters to attend.”

      Jarrod blinked and turned back to the other man. “Forgive me, my lord, but I have nothing of more import to attend. At the same time, I do not mean to press myself where I am not wanted.” He squared his shoulders, frustrated with the need to convince the other man to accept his help. He sensed the depth of their concern as well as his own. Tact was not one of his virtues, but he ventured, “I understand that I am as determined to find your son as you yourself are, my lord. I am but another pair of hands, another horse, to aid the efforts that are already being made. I would do whatever I can to locate him and see him returned home without delay.”

      Lord Greatham sighed heavily, rubbing long slender fingers across a tired brow. “I know not what you could accomplish, sir knight. Thus far none of my efforts or those of my men have gained so much as one hint of where my son has gone.” The baron took a long, deep breath. “It appears as though my son rode out from this keep and disappeared into the mists.”

      Jarrod bowed. “I assure you, I have naught else to demand my attention than finding Christian.”

      He could see the continued strain on the older man’s face, even as indecision creased his brow.

      At that moment the woman reached out to put a comforting hand on her father’s arm. And Lord Greatham, proud man that he was, put his hand over hers as if it was she who needed comfort.

      She whispered, “Pray heed his offer, Father. Sir Jarrod is as worried as we and mayhap he can help us. I…Christian was gone from us for such a very long time and now…”

      Her anxiety moved Jarrod to a feeling of protectiveness that amazed him. He also felt moved by Lord Greatham’s pain as he sighed. Jarrod listened with relief as he said, “I will accept your aid in the spirit it is offered.”

      Jarrod bowed again, knowing that he could not afford the weakness of becoming too attached to Christian’s sister, or his father, for that matter. The only relationships he’d ever experienced with anything approaching satisfaction were those with Christian and Simon. And they needed nothing from him, accepting his loyalty and love, not requiring it.

      Jarrod had never been needed by anyone, nor had he himself needed anyone, not his father, nor his half brother, nor his moth—He stopped himself before the last thought could fully form. Jarrod was greatly aware of his own good fortune. As the bastard son of an Eastern woman and his father, he had been brought back to England and lived in his father’s noble household until he’d overheard his younger, legitimate, brother Eustace begging their father to send him away. Having never felt that he truly belonged in the household of his father’s legitimate wife and son, he had requested that he be sent away into training as a knight.

      His father had agreed with his accustomed lack of emotion and Jarrod had fostered with The Dragon at thirteen, those two years being the best of his life. And even after his foster father had been betrayed and murdered by The Dragon’s own half brother, Jarrod had simply gone on to a new fosterage, leaving England with his new lord and not returning until early in this year. As Simon and Christian had also made the journey, staying on in the employ of the Knights Templar, when most others had returned to England, he had been more than content for the thirteen years he had remained in those hot desert climes. He had only ventured to return when they had, feeling no more tied to the East than he was to England.

      He would remain, as he has always been, free to come and go, by his own will. He would keep his mind on what he had come here to do. “I thank you, СКАЧАТЬ