Read Online A Knight's Vow by Lindsay Townsend - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsay Townsend
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insult to remove a married woman’s veil, but
not, I think, that of my wife-to-be,” Guillelm replied, setting
her back down lightly onto her feet. “I would see your hair.”
“But-” The gentle touch of his fingers against her forehead
distracted Alyson, making her forget the rest of her protest. I am
drowning in sweetness in his arms, she thought despairingly,
dimly aware of the farriers staring, of a conspiracy of children
pausing in their game of throwing sticks to giggle and point.
“Would you make a show of me, dragon?” she whispered.
Instantly his hand was still. “Not for all the jewels of Outremer, if it truly troubles you” He cupped her face. “But then,
you were merely to be plighted to my father, were you not?
You told me you had not been formally betrothed” Why not?
Guillelm wondered. In his father’s place he would have been
very keen to make all fast between Alyson and himself, but
then that was not the important matter here. “You can wear
your hair loose, like a true maiden.” As swiftly as it had come,
the shine of tenderness vanished from his dark eyes and a
hard, quizzical look settled over his stark features. “Or did
you and my good lord Robert anticipate your wedding?”
Never! Alyson wanted to shout, appalled at the very question. The mere thought made her shudder inside. “What do you think?” she hit back, adding, “If my father were alive,
you would not say such things to me”
Guillelm became dangerously still. “You think I would not
dare?”
Deciding that actions spoke more than words, Alyson
reached up and unpinned her veil, holding it out. “I am as I
was born,” she said quietly.
A brief look of shame flickered in Guillelm’s eyes as he took
the cloth from her, screwing it into a tight ball. “That is better,”
he growled. “And you must admit I have a right to ask”
“As I now have the right to ask for an apology,” Alyson
replied steadily. She tried not to stare at the faint line of blond
body curls that was revealed as Guillelm thrust her veil into
his shirt. It ran right down to his navel … She closed her eyes
briefly, then opened them as she heard him say, “I am sorry. I
was wrong”
Forgiving him at once, she raised her head to say as much
and so caught the far softer, “Your hair … it is amazing.”
She was pretty enough and provoking enough to be kissed,
thought Guillelm, eager to do just that, and more. Only the fact
that he was already aroused and had blundered badly with his
wretched jealousy-how could he even have asked such an insulting question?-made him pause. But she was so pretty. Her
new gown, the color of a summer twilight, mirrored the rich
depths of her eyes and flattered the flawless rose-and-cream of
her skin but did not quite do justice to her lissome figure; it
could be tighter here and here, he decided, longing to run his
hands over those very points. Hastily lowering his gaze, he
caught a flash of red, like a teasing tongue, on the hem of her
gown as she moved slightly back from him and instantly marveled at her slender feet, so tiny. “You are a wonder,” he longed to say to her, but seasoned warriors did not talk that wayif his men heard him they would think him mad.
“Guillelm-” The new music that she made of his name
made him almost miss what she was saying, but it was, as ever
with Alyson, direct and pertinent. “I am sorry, too, for being angered when you mentioned Sericus .” She smiled. “My sister
Tilda always said I was too hot-tempered; she taught me a convent prayer to recite when I was angry, but often in the heat of
the moment I forget it. Of course you are lord here, and Sericus
is your servant as well as mine, only” she spread her workworn fingers in a further, silent plea-“grant me, I beg you, a
little time to become accustomed to this new order.”
He grunted an acknowledgment, ashamed afresh at his
apology, clumsy compared with hers. “How
not, I think, that of my wife-to-be,” Guillelm replied, setting
her back down lightly onto her feet. “I would see your hair.”
“But-” The gentle touch of his fingers against her forehead
distracted Alyson, making her forget the rest of her protest. I am
drowning in sweetness in his arms, she thought despairingly,
dimly aware of the farriers staring, of a conspiracy of children
pausing in their game of throwing sticks to giggle and point.
“Would you make a show of me, dragon?” she whispered.
Instantly his hand was still. “Not for all the jewels of Outremer, if it truly troubles you” He cupped her face. “But then,
you were merely to be plighted to my father, were you not?
You told me you had not been formally betrothed” Why not?
Guillelm wondered. In his father’s place he would have been
very keen to make all fast between Alyson and himself, but
then that was not the important matter here. “You can wear
your hair loose, like a true maiden.” As swiftly as it had come,
the shine of tenderness vanished from his dark eyes and a
hard, quizzical look settled over his stark features. “Or did
you and my good lord Robert anticipate your wedding?”
Never! Alyson wanted to shout, appalled at the very question. The mere thought made her shudder inside. “What do you think?” she hit back, adding, “If my father were alive,
you would not say such things to me”
Guillelm became dangerously still. “You think I would not
dare?”
Deciding that actions spoke more than words, Alyson
reached up and unpinned her veil, holding it out. “I am as I
was born,” she said quietly.
A brief look of shame flickered in Guillelm’s eyes as he took
the cloth from her, screwing it into a tight ball. “That is better,”
he growled. “And you must admit I have a right to ask”
“As I now have the right to ask for an apology,” Alyson
replied steadily. She tried not to stare at the faint line of blond
body curls that was revealed as Guillelm thrust her veil into
his shirt. It ran right down to his navel … She closed her eyes
briefly, then opened them as she heard him say, “I am sorry. I
was wrong”
Forgiving him at once, she raised her head to say as much
and so caught the far softer, “Your hair … it is amazing.”
She was pretty enough and provoking enough to be kissed,
thought Guillelm, eager to do just that, and more. Only the fact
that he was already aroused and had blundered badly with his
wretched jealousy-how could he even have asked such an insulting question?-made him pause. But she was so pretty. Her
new gown, the color of a summer twilight, mirrored the rich
depths of her eyes and flattered the flawless rose-and-cream of
her skin but did not quite do justice to her lissome figure; it
could be tighter here and here, he decided, longing to run his
hands over those very points. Hastily lowering his gaze, he
caught a flash of red, like a teasing tongue, on the hem of her
gown as she moved slightly back from him and instantly marveled at her slender feet, so tiny. “You are a wonder,” he longed to say to her, but seasoned warriors did not talk that wayif his men heard him they would think him mad.
“Guillelm-” The new music that she made of his name
made him almost miss what she was saying, but it was, as ever
with Alyson, direct and pertinent. “I am sorry, too, for being angered when you mentioned Sericus .” She smiled. “My sister
Tilda always said I was too hot-tempered; she taught me a convent prayer to recite when I was angry, but often in the heat of
the moment I forget it. Of course you are lord here, and Sericus
is your servant as well as mine, only” she spread her workworn fingers in a further, silent plea-“grant me, I beg you, a
little time to become accustomed to this new order.”
He grunted an acknowledgment, ashamed afresh at his
apology, clumsy compared with hers. “How
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