Read Online Averill: Historical Romance (The Brocade Collection, Book 3) by Jackie Ivie - Free Book Online

stood before her, fully clothed in dark trousers and a long shirt, buttoned up the front. Only the wetness of his ghotra betrayed his impulsive bath. Averill tried, but couldn’t look him in the eye. She’d seen him naked ! She put her hands to her cheeks in a vain attempt to cool them.
    “What is it?”
    She didn’t answer. He finally sighed heavily.
    “Oh, very well. Keep your own counsel. I’m getting used to it. I’ll return with clothing for you and some cleaning solution for your brushes.”
    She ignored him, and a moment later, he left.
    ~ ~ ~
    Pegasus wasn’t remotely agreeable two days later . Averill longed to box his ears as he strutted along, upsetting her canvas again.
    “Stupid beast!” 
    She lunged for the board before it fell to the sand, then she sighed. She didn’t feel like painting, anyway. Captain Tennison hadn’t spoken to her at all the previous day, leaving her vaguely depressed. He hadn’t called a halt, either, leaving them to sleep as best they may aboard their mounts. Averill had managed it by pulling her legs up under her and leaning on the saddle’s high pommel. She smiled to herself. She’d probably had the easiest time of it. Unlike Captain Tennison and his men, she was used to sleeping anywhere and in any condition.
    She wondered what had happened to the leisurely pace . It couldn’t have anything to do with her, could it? He hadn’t guessed how she might feel about him, and was making as much speed as possible, to get away? That wasn’t it, was it? And if it was, he didn’t have to worry. She refused to be in love with him, or even think that she was. That was too horrid to contemplate. If she loved him, she might be tempted to obey the lusts of the devil and sin like her mother did. Father Sanders had warned her often enough about it. She shouldn’t need to remind herself.
    “Your mother’s sin is yours to bear, Averill,” he ’d said to her more than once. “As a bastard child, the Lord can be your only lover. No other man would ever accept what you offer. Only by giving to a man of the faith, can you be saved. That’s the only man that will have you. The only one. A man of the faith. Like me.”
    She ’d wondered if she dared tell the sisters what happened to her in the confessional, but she knew it wouldn’t matter. They acted like lovesick fools around Father Sanders. It was what had decided her on this escape, after all.
    Averill shook her head, trying to eradicate the memory. The day wasn’t meant for self-pitying thoughts. It was difficult enough already.
    Captain Tennison’s horse rode in the middle of the group . That was odd. There were twenty horses and eighteen camels in the caravan, most burdened with gifts for their hosts. Averill wondered if she’d be expected to paint a gift for when they arrived. Perhaps she should start another picture for that reason.
    She didn’t know how Captain Tennison had spent the night, but he rode two different horses throughout the day, one of which walked beside him without a rider. They looked like a matched pair, although Averill wasn’t able to tell them apart until she noticed a subtle difference in their noses. One horse had a straight blaze, while the other sported two, separate ones. Captain Tennison was riding the split-blaze horse today. It made him look very official. Averill contemplated his profile at length as he spoke to another man, then he turned and rode toward her.
    She carefully blanked her expression even as she knew he’d caught her looking.
    “You don’t paint today?” he asked.
    “This beast won’t settle into a rhythm I can get used to. Either that, or I’m not as talented today.”
    She watched his eyebrows draw together as he considered that.
    “You underestimate yourself, Averill. I suggest adding the horse, Pegasus, and you have created a masterpiece. Are you fishing for compliments?”
    Looking at him was too dangerous . She studied the landscape beyond his shoulder, watching