watching over him. Haven surveyed the edge of the clearing. Not a guard in sight.
He looked for the widow and found her, accompanied by her maid and surrounded by his men. What does she do , he wondered, that turns my men to mindless dolts? Whatever it is, it will cease now.
From now on he would brook no further delays. Edward wanted them in Chester. By all that was holy, he would perform the task his king set for him, even if he must take the widow ahead by himself. His men could keep Thomas and his aunt safe and come on to Chester at a slower pace. The plan was good. Yes, if they did not cover more than forty leagues beyond York in the next three days, that was what he would do.
Determined, he strode from the tree line into camp. He heard laughter rumble from the men circled about the widow.
“Soames! Get these people mounted and ready to ride.”
His lieutenant gave him a startled look, then snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.” He bellowed orders at the men.
The knot of men surrounding the widow scattered. She glared up at Haven, as if an ill wind had tattered her carefully spun web.
No doubt she tried to plant seeds of insurrection among the warriors. Too bad she did not know his men as well as he did. Some were inexperienced, but all were blooded. She would find poor soil for her schemes among loyalties forged in battle. Satisfaction turned up the corners of Haven’s mouth, and he was able to bank the anger the widow ignited in him.
He grasped her elbow and urged her toward his horse. “Do not think to charm my men into foolishness as you did your husband.”
She shook off his hand.
He heard her outraged gasp at the same time that he felt pain shoot up his leg from where she kicked his shin. Grasping the injured limb, he hopped toward his horse. “I curse the day I ordered Watley to give you those boots. What ails you, woman, that you must kick me?’
“What ails you, Sir Numbskull, that you accuse me of such a loathsome action as leading my husband to treason?’ She crossed her arms over her chest.
Haven opened his mouth, then closed it, for she had thrust her face within a hand’s span of his. The scent of lavender filled his head. He lost track of his words.
“You threaten me with death,” she spoke with surprising calm. “I have no choice but to come with you. Then you insult my servants and me at every turn. I refuse to suffer your rudeness any longer.”
Even uttered in her houri’s voice, her tirade raised his hackles. Haven narrowed his glance and lowered his mal-treated leg, wincing as the abused limb took his weight. “Tell me, madame, how you will end this so called suffering?”
“Simple, Sir Bully; I will pray.” With that, she turned abruptly and walked to his horse where she waited for him to assist her.
Haven eyed her suspiciously, uncertain how prayer would relieve her suffering. He mounted his horse, then lifted her up behind him. Pray as she might, he would show her no more courtesy than any other suspected traitor.
Three days later, despite acquiring more horses, they had made less than thirty leagues beyond York. Haven did some praying of his own. The party was stopped once again, and taking the widow to Chester by himself was now the only option, if he wished to arrive on time. He prayed for patience and for deliverance. He had had no idea that one woman not in holy orders had so many prayers stored up inside. And if he had to listen to one more supplication to le Bon Dieu for the softening of his heart and the saving of his soul, Haven was certain he would strangle the widow.
After a mere league of constant prayer, he had ordered her to ride farther back, with one or another of his men. Haven savored a blessed silence until he had seen how his men behaved. Each and every one of them became simpering, mooning idiots.
After York she had ridden next to Sutherland at the back of the party, and the warrior had become so distracted by her that he had let their
He looked for the widow and found her, accompanied by her maid and surrounded by his men. What does she do , he wondered, that turns my men to mindless dolts? Whatever it is, it will cease now.
From now on he would brook no further delays. Edward wanted them in Chester. By all that was holy, he would perform the task his king set for him, even if he must take the widow ahead by himself. His men could keep Thomas and his aunt safe and come on to Chester at a slower pace. The plan was good. Yes, if they did not cover more than forty leagues beyond York in the next three days, that was what he would do.
Determined, he strode from the tree line into camp. He heard laughter rumble from the men circled about the widow.
“Soames! Get these people mounted and ready to ride.”
His lieutenant gave him a startled look, then snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.” He bellowed orders at the men.
The knot of men surrounding the widow scattered. She glared up at Haven, as if an ill wind had tattered her carefully spun web.
No doubt she tried to plant seeds of insurrection among the warriors. Too bad she did not know his men as well as he did. Some were inexperienced, but all were blooded. She would find poor soil for her schemes among loyalties forged in battle. Satisfaction turned up the corners of Haven’s mouth, and he was able to bank the anger the widow ignited in him.
He grasped her elbow and urged her toward his horse. “Do not think to charm my men into foolishness as you did your husband.”
She shook off his hand.
He heard her outraged gasp at the same time that he felt pain shoot up his leg from where she kicked his shin. Grasping the injured limb, he hopped toward his horse. “I curse the day I ordered Watley to give you those boots. What ails you, woman, that you must kick me?’
“What ails you, Sir Numbskull, that you accuse me of such a loathsome action as leading my husband to treason?’ She crossed her arms over her chest.
Haven opened his mouth, then closed it, for she had thrust her face within a hand’s span of his. The scent of lavender filled his head. He lost track of his words.
“You threaten me with death,” she spoke with surprising calm. “I have no choice but to come with you. Then you insult my servants and me at every turn. I refuse to suffer your rudeness any longer.”
Even uttered in her houri’s voice, her tirade raised his hackles. Haven narrowed his glance and lowered his mal-treated leg, wincing as the abused limb took his weight. “Tell me, madame, how you will end this so called suffering?”
“Simple, Sir Bully; I will pray.” With that, she turned abruptly and walked to his horse where she waited for him to assist her.
Haven eyed her suspiciously, uncertain how prayer would relieve her suffering. He mounted his horse, then lifted her up behind him. Pray as she might, he would show her no more courtesy than any other suspected traitor.
Three days later, despite acquiring more horses, they had made less than thirty leagues beyond York. Haven did some praying of his own. The party was stopped once again, and taking the widow to Chester by himself was now the only option, if he wished to arrive on time. He prayed for patience and for deliverance. He had had no idea that one woman not in holy orders had so many prayers stored up inside. And if he had to listen to one more supplication to le Bon Dieu for the softening of his heart and the saving of his soul, Haven was certain he would strangle the widow.
After a mere league of constant prayer, he had ordered her to ride farther back, with one or another of his men. Haven savored a blessed silence until he had seen how his men behaved. Each and every one of them became simpering, mooning idiots.
After York she had ridden next to Sutherland at the back of the party, and the warrior had become so distracted by her that he had let their
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