Read Online Amanda Scott by Knights Treasure - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Knights Treasure
Ads: Link
thinking about her, about any of them, for that matter. Such women were not for the man he had become.
Without land of his own or prospects for acquiring any, he had naught to offer her. Land, after all, a man either inherited, received as a royal reward, or acquired in a marriage settlement. But his father would leave him nothing, the present royal family was more likely to take land than to grant it, and in any marriage with land involved, the lass’s father would expect her chosen mate to bring something equivalent to the marriage.
He could offer a wife only his knightly skills and his belief that the past nine years had taught him to master his volatile temper—nearly always. Nine years before, when he’d offered his services to the Sinclairs and Hugo, he had done so as a simple serving knight, without thought or concern for aught but his immediate future. And for nine years, the life had suited him. He had been content. But now …
He remained standing in that impenetrable darkness for a long while, hands braced on the damp parapet as he listened to rushing water far below and wrestled with his thoughts and memories. At last, realizing the fog had penetrated his heavy cloak and would soon soak him to the skin, Sir Robert Logan heaved a sigh, gave a last thought to what might have been, and took himself off to bed.
Chapter 4
A dela awoke to soft footsteps in her bedchamber, followed by the familiar scrape of a hearth shovel. Pushing the bed curtain aside, she peeped out to see Kenna crouched by the banked embers, coaxing tinder and kindling to flame.
The girl glanced at her, saying, “Good morning, your ladyship. I hope ye dinna mind me being late. But as ye were awake till such an hour, I thought I’d let ye sleep a wee bit longer. Still, the countess said ye’d want to be up to greet anyone as might want to pay respects to Lord Ardelve.”
“I do,” Adela said, throwing back the covers. One had to perform some duties whether one wanted to or not. Moreover, she had learned that one should view the countess’s statements as commands rather than suggestions.
At least she felt rested, and for once, she had suffered none of the nightmares that had plagued her since her abduction. They had begun when she was under Waldron’s control, which made sense. That they had continued afterward made no sense, because she was safe and would be safe as long as she stayed at Roslin.
Roslin Castle was one of the strongest fortresses in the country, boasting a high curtain wall and strong gates. Perched on a clifftop promontory thrusting into a sharp curve of the deep gorge cut by the turbulent river North Esk, it was nearly unassailable for even the most determined enemy.
The river flowed almost all the way around the south-facing promontory, leaving only a narrow, terrifying land bridge to connect it to a treacherous, heavily wooded land mass to its north. From there, a narrow cart track dipped down to follow the river’s western bank north to Edinburgh or south to the head of Roslin Glen. Another, higher road reached by fording the river below the castle followed the eastern ridge and was the better of the two.
Reminding herself again that she was safe, Adela put all thought of the nightmares out of her head. Moving quickly in the chilly room, she performed her morning ablutions, then accepted Kenna’s help to dress in a simple, becoming tunic and skirt of soft, moss green cameline.
“Ye’ll need a proper headdress today,” Kenna said as she brushed Adela’s hair.
Adela agreed. Both Isabella and Lady Clendenen would expect her to behave as a married lady—a widowed lady—and as such, she could not go about as she preferred, with only a short veil to cover her hair.
“Just plait it, Kenna,” she said. “But first brush it back off my brow. I’ll wear the plain white caul and the matching silk veil that Lady Isobel gave me.”
Most of the clothing she wore at Roslin had come from the generous Isobel,
Without land of his own or prospects for acquiring any, he had naught to offer her. Land, after all, a man either inherited, received as a royal reward, or acquired in a marriage settlement. But his father would leave him nothing, the present royal family was more likely to take land than to grant it, and in any marriage with land involved, the lass’s father would expect her chosen mate to bring something equivalent to the marriage.
He could offer a wife only his knightly skills and his belief that the past nine years had taught him to master his volatile temper—nearly always. Nine years before, when he’d offered his services to the Sinclairs and Hugo, he had done so as a simple serving knight, without thought or concern for aught but his immediate future. And for nine years, the life had suited him. He had been content. But now …
He remained standing in that impenetrable darkness for a long while, hands braced on the damp parapet as he listened to rushing water far below and wrestled with his thoughts and memories. At last, realizing the fog had penetrated his heavy cloak and would soon soak him to the skin, Sir Robert Logan heaved a sigh, gave a last thought to what might have been, and took himself off to bed.
Chapter 4
A dela awoke to soft footsteps in her bedchamber, followed by the familiar scrape of a hearth shovel. Pushing the bed curtain aside, she peeped out to see Kenna crouched by the banked embers, coaxing tinder and kindling to flame.
The girl glanced at her, saying, “Good morning, your ladyship. I hope ye dinna mind me being late. But as ye were awake till such an hour, I thought I’d let ye sleep a wee bit longer. Still, the countess said ye’d want to be up to greet anyone as might want to pay respects to Lord Ardelve.”
“I do,” Adela said, throwing back the covers. One had to perform some duties whether one wanted to or not. Moreover, she had learned that one should view the countess’s statements as commands rather than suggestions.
At least she felt rested, and for once, she had suffered none of the nightmares that had plagued her since her abduction. They had begun when she was under Waldron’s control, which made sense. That they had continued afterward made no sense, because she was safe and would be safe as long as she stayed at Roslin.
Roslin Castle was one of the strongest fortresses in the country, boasting a high curtain wall and strong gates. Perched on a clifftop promontory thrusting into a sharp curve of the deep gorge cut by the turbulent river North Esk, it was nearly unassailable for even the most determined enemy.
The river flowed almost all the way around the south-facing promontory, leaving only a narrow, terrifying land bridge to connect it to a treacherous, heavily wooded land mass to its north. From there, a narrow cart track dipped down to follow the river’s western bank north to Edinburgh or south to the head of Roslin Glen. Another, higher road reached by fording the river below the castle followed the eastern ridge and was the better of the two.
Reminding herself again that she was safe, Adela put all thought of the nightmares out of her head. Moving quickly in the chilly room, she performed her morning ablutions, then accepted Kenna’s help to dress in a simple, becoming tunic and skirt of soft, moss green cameline.
“Ye’ll need a proper headdress today,” Kenna said as she brushed Adela’s hair.
Adela agreed. Both Isabella and Lady Clendenen would expect her to behave as a married lady—a widowed lady—and as such, she could not go about as she preferred, with only a short veil to cover her hair.
“Just plait it, Kenna,” she said. “But first brush it back off my brow. I’ll wear the plain white caul and the matching silk veil that Lady Isobel gave me.”
Most of the clothing she wore at Roslin had come from the generous Isobel,
Similar Books
