Dragon's Daughter. Catherine Archer

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СКАЧАТЬ that he was needed at Bransbury…that he must…

      It was full light when Christian once again opened his eyes, instantly recalling the events of the night. He sat up, glad for the strength that seemed to be returning to his body. Even as he thought this, his gaze searched for the young woman he had spoken to before.

      She was there beside the fire, as she had been the previous night. This time she was garbed for the day in a woolen gown of deep forest-green.

      There was guarded tension in that slender form, as there had been the previous time they’d spoken, but there was no fear in her captivating green eyes. She spoke evenly. “Good morrow, sir.”

      He could hear the huskiness in his own voice as he replied, “Good morrow, kind lady. Forgive me for not offering my thanks last night, for it appears I have much to be thankful for if you have taken me in and nursed me. Especially whilst knowing nothing of me. For my lack of chivalry, pray forgive me. I can only claim surprise at finding myself in these circumstances.”

      She inclined her head with an unconsciously regal grace. “Your thanks are well met.”

      He found himself watching her closely, realizing anew that she was likely the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with those green eyes, well-formed features and auburn hair, now confined in a thick braid that hung to her hips. He heard the wonder in his voice as he asked, “Pray, do you mind my asking who you are?”

      She seemed to stiffen, answering without looking at him. “My name is Rowena.” She cast a fleeting glance in his direction, then added, “And you are?”

      He noted her seeming agitation over giving her name, but could fathom no reason for it as he answered, “Sir Christian Greatham, of Bransbury.”

      Her gaze flew to his and she straightened fully, her fair brow creasing. “A knight!”

      He frowned in turn. “Does that trouble you?”

      She flicked her tongue over those full lips as if with nervousness, replying, “Nay, I have simply never met a noble. My mother did not…How does one behave with a knight?”

      He shrugged, replying even as he noted the unfinished remark. “As one wishes.”

      She frowned thoughtfully, those eyes flicking toward him and away, and he could not help noting once more how beautiful they were with their surprisingly dark fringe of lashes. A man could become lost in those…

      Abruptly he called himself to task. This woman’s eyes were not what had brought him to Ashcroft. “Where are my clothes? My horse?”

      She shook her head with regret. “I am sorry. The clothing had to be burned. There was nothing left of it, really. And the horse…” She again shook her head. “We saw no sign of a horse.”

      Christian raked a hand through his hair. God, what a fool he had been to continue on that night. The animal had been worth much in gold, but his value as a constant and loyal companion had been far greater. Christian’s eyes widened as he realized that with the loss of his stallion, he had also lost all that had been in his saddlebags, including his dragon brooch. It was the symbol of his brotherhood with his friends Simon and Jarrod, and their determination to stand against the man who had murdered The Dragon. Hatred for the man who had perpetrated that crime rolled in Christian’s belly for a brief moment before he overcame it.

      If he had lost the brooch, he would not have it be for naught. He would discover if Rosalind were still alive. And if she was, Kelsey might pay for his crimes at long last.

      Christian could not accomplish that clothed in a bed fur. He pulled the cover higher about his waist as he cast an assessing gaze over the young woman. “Are you alone here?”

      She flushed. “Yes, but it was not I who…Hagar was the one who removed your…”

      “You mistake me. I was not concerned with who might have removed my garments, only with attaining others. Who is this Hagar?”

      “She is…a friend who lives in the village. An elder lady.”

      He sighed.

      Rowena watched her patient with an embarrassment mixed with fascination that nearly overrode her caution and discomfort.

      This man with the powerful form and gentle eyes was a knight! Just as her father had been.

      She trained her full attention on the man before her. She had never grown accustomed to him ill. Conscious and fully aware, he was even more disquieting.

      She tried not to let her gaze linger on the broad expanse of his naked chest and shoulders as she wondered if she was fooling herself to imagine that he would not recall any of what had occurred while she tended him. The fact that he seemed more concerned about his lost garments than with her should have put her at ease.

      It did not. For she was even more eager than he to cover that smooth, tawny flesh.

      Hagar was the only one who could aid her in this. Surely the older woman would be able to help her find garments to clothe her guest.

      So thinking, Rowena said, “If you will await me I will go and fetch something for you. I…we…Hagar and I did not know when you might awaken, and gave no thought to what you might wear when, and if, you did.”

      Without waiting for a reply, Rowena took her warm woolen cape from the peg on the door and stepped into her leather shoes.

      He spoke up. “Rowena, I would—”

      But she did not stop in her flight from the cottage. “You rest. I will return anon,” she stated, nodding in his direction.

      She raced down the path through the forest to Hagar’s cottage. She threw the door open without knocking. With an expression of surprise, the older woman looked up from where she was tending the fire as Rowena exclaimed, “He is awake.”

      “Praise be.”

      “He told me he is a noble. A knight. He is asking for his clothing. I have nothing to—”

      Hagar stood immediately. “A knight, ye say? Of course ye have nothing for him to wear. We should have thought…” She bit her lip. “Sean is not of a size with him.”

      With a nod the older woman spun about and went to the chest that sat beneath the shuttered window. Quickly she opened it and withdrew garments from inside, laying them neatly on the hard-packed dirt floor, until she stopped, holding up a deep blue tunic. “I had saved this for Sean so that he might wear it when he grew to be a man.” She touched the fabric gently. “It was his father’s best, his marriage garb. Methinks Sean will never be so large, but I did plan to cut it down for him….” She glanced toward Rowena and away. “We will put it to good use this day instead. I also have my Duncan’s hose, and a pair of shoes that have seen better days, but will have to do.”

      In no time at all she and Rowena were headed back down the forest path to the cottage. When they reached it Christian Greatham was standing in the middle of the floor with a frown on his undeniably handsome face, the bedcover wrapped around his lean middle.

      Seeing him like that again, feeling his masculine presence, Rowena was doubly glad that the older woman had returned with her.

      It was Hagar СКАЧАТЬ