The Knight's Fugitive Lady. Meriel Fuller
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Название: The Knight's Fugitive Lady
Автор: Meriel Fuller
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
Серия: Mills & Boon Historical
isbn: 9781472004246
isbn:
At her defiant gesture, Lussac laughed out loud, a rippling, throaty sound. His teeth were white against the tan of his face. ‘So, we have a stand-off,’ he declared. Would she stamp her feet, like his sister used to do when she couldn’t gain her own way? The laughter died within him at the sudden thought, then shrivelled up, like a burnt crisp of parchment rising from the fire. Sadness, a shard of glass, pierced his heart.
‘I haven’t got time for this,’ he said, stern now, long boots covering the ground with a fast powerful stride. ‘I am not going to hurt you. Even you, with your foolish ways, must surely know when you are beaten. Let’s go.’ Snaring her sleeve, he tugged her towards the place where his horse tore at the scant grass.
‘I don’t want to go with you,’ Katerina protested, her heels deliberately dragging through the fallen leaves. ‘I’ve told you, I will be fine.’
‘And I’ve told you that I will take you home, to a place where you will be safe.’ He rounded on her. Through the frayed sleeve of her tunic, the warmth from his fingers penetrated her cold forearm, scissoring erratically up to her chest, tumbling her heart with unexpected emotion.
A place where she would be safe. His words banged around the confines of her head. When was the last time she had felt safe? When her mother had been alive? The camp where she lived now provided a refuge, a hiding place, but it was not safe. Even now, she kept her wits about her, hugging her secrets tight to her chest, guarding her privacy. Who knew when or where her father’s hired spies would catch up with her?
‘All right, you can let go now, I’ll come with you.’ Katerina sighed reluctantly. She wasn’t a fool and this man was not about to be convinced of her safety. She suspected he would stand there all day like a statue, following her every move until she agreed to let him take her home.
His fingers fell from her arm as they reached his horse. She waited as he swept up his helmet and attached it to the back of the saddle, before gathering up the loose reins. He grinned suddenly; her expression was one of utter dismay.
‘Whoever would have thought it?’ he said. ‘A woman wanting to roam around alone, with no one to keep her safe. You must be seriously lacking up there...’ he tapped the side of his skull derisively ‘...if you think you’ll survive unscathed. A man would have you down on that ground with your undergarments off before you even had time to think, or scream.’ He turned abruptly, heading for the track that ran towards the outskirts of the forest.
Fuming, her pale face flushed with embarrassment at the rough, unsettling image he painted, Katerina stumbled after him. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes and she dashed them away. Horrible, horrible man! Who was this stranger who had intruded so abruptly, so violently into her life? Who shot massive holes through her hard-won sense of security? Hating him, she trudged in his wake, eyes burning resentment.
He hadn’t even turned around to see if she were following. He knew he had won.
Chapter Four
Beneath a vast bowl of cerulean sky, Lussac marched along, covering the ground with quick, long-legged strides. On the outskirts of his peripheral vision, he could see the bright blaze of the maid’s hair as she followed him, the wisps of amber silk curling out from beneath her hood. He knew he was walking too fast for her, but refused to curb his pace—let the chit suffer a little, for wasting his time, for giving him the run-around in the forest. But despite his speed, she seemed to have little difficulty in keeping up with him, her steps light and dancing across the stiff, dry grass.
The back of Katerina’s head ached as she squinted grumpily at the man’s broad back, his shoulders silhouetted against the sky. They were clear of the trees now, tracking back towards the coast, working their way alongside an immense flat area of tidal creeks and rivulets, a grid of shining ribbons empty of water now, but covered at high tide. Against her better judgement, she had given him scant details of the camp’s location, based at the Earl of Norfolk’s castle where they were due to perform the following night. Anything to be rid of him!
Lussac stopped, surveying the horizon. The shore and river estuary were to the east, the forest at his back to the north. The strong breeze from the east riffled the straight hair across his forehead, tousling the strands. The strong noon light cast shadows beneath his high cheek-bones, giving him a devilish appearance.
An icy shudder seized Katerina’s bones. She hunkered further down into her tunic, yanking her hood more securely around her head. The breeze sneaked beneath the sagging, extended hem, flowing up across her belly, her chest.
‘Are you cold?’ he said. Lifting one hand, he rubbed it against the back of his neck; the weight of his chainmail pressed against his fingers. He was certain that beneath her loose tunic she wore nothing but a thin chemise, and her feet had been bare, he remembered. And despite the sun, the breeze from the sea drove fiercely against their faces.
‘No. I’m not.’
He raised his eyebrows at the fragile stutter in her speech, frowning pointedly at her slight, trembling frame. A fiery pink blotched her cheeks, her pearl-white skin smacked into colour by the driving wind. He carried spare clothes in his saddle-bags, a woollen rug that he could offer her but, judging by her mutinous expression, her stubborn stance, he suspected she would refuse all offers of help. So be it.
‘Which way?’ he demanded.
‘Over there.’ Katerina pointed. ‘Can you see the turrets of the castle? It belongs to the Earl of Norfolk.’
He nodded, starting to walk again. ‘Do you work there?’
‘Yes,’ she lied. The less he knew about her working situation, the better. She fell into step beside him, not too close, and matched her pace to his. His horse plodded along behind them, docile on the rein.
‘And is your husband there? Your family?’
‘What?’ Unprepared for his question, the toe of her boot snagged on a protruding tussock of grass and she pitched forwards, stumbling into Lussac’s left flank. Seeking balance, she snaked her hand out, fingers hooking around his wide leather sword belt. Her knuckles pressed into his back, a flat wall of solid muscle. A wobbling excitement shot up her arm at the contact, bursting, visceral.
She snatched her fingers away, pressing them against her mouth, aghast. ‘Forgive me...’ she swallowed hurriedly ‘...I lost my footing.’
‘No matter.’ His mouth twisted up into a half-smile. ‘I was asking you about your family.’
‘Er, yes. Yes, they are there.’ She chewed anxiously on her bottom lip, reddening the flesh. How different it was to walk alongside this huge bear of a man, compared to the easy companionship of Waleran. All the nerve endings in her body seemed to turn in his direction, like flowers towards the sun, drinking in his vitality, his power, alert to his every move, the low sound of his voice. This man threw her off balance, in more ways than one, befuddling her mind with questions, undermining her hard-won confidence, security. She couldn’t think straight. How much longer could she keep this up? How much longer before she said something that would give herself away, reveal her secrets? Throwing a nervous СКАЧАТЬ