Garin. Thank you.”
“ So did you,” he said, grinning. “We made a good team.”
“ That we did.”
Juliana gradually calmed and they turned for home, dragging the boar with them....
… Simon sighed, shaking his head. He also knew the reason why Juliana had changed and no longer supported her brother. That day had proven a turning point in their childhood and Juliana never joined their games again. Although Harold Swein praised Simon’s actions and they feasted on the boar he killed, Juliana had caught her father’s wrath f ull force.
In a sense, Simon understood her father’s fury. Simon had also been angry with Juliana for being so careless in her game, but he had curbed his tongue simply because of his relief that she was unharmed.
Her father had not been so kind, however. He had railed at her terribly. Simon had not been present for the tongue lashing, nor did he know what all was said b ut everyone in the great hall heard the lord raging at Juliana in the solar. When he finally allowed her to leave she had run from th e keep sobbing terribly.
Simon quietly followed her to the stables where she threw herself in the straw and cried in agony. His heart twisted just as painfully now as it had that night. But he had not approached her. As she cried, he hid himself in the shadows, his hand on his sword. He stayed with her, sorrow surging within him, listening to her tears which he could not allay.
She never knew he had shared each tortured sob ripped from her being and Simon would never speak of the matter. He remained alert and steadfast, guarding her through the night and into dawn when she finally picked herself up and returned to her room. Simon remained in the shadows.
Where he belonged.
Simon fingered the boar’s tusks he had strung to a leather thong and wore ar ound his neck under his tunic. To this day, Juliana never knew he had been there.
Chapter Four
In three days Garin’s headache did not go away. It only grew worse. He was hardly able to stand through the wedding ceremony at the church doors. The blood roared in his ears and the stone under his feet felt as if it undulated. Simon and Geoff stood on his right and Alyna and her maids on his left.
He wished he could see her.
No doubt she was the most beautiful bride in al l of England. Sorrow settled deep in his soul. He would never know.
Garin smelled lavender and felt her smaller hand in his, soft and warm. He heard her voice quiet but strong as she spoke the vows.
Her Uncle Roger had made the wedding bands. Garin m arveled at the delicacy of the gold under his fingers. If Roger could learn to do this without his vision surely Garin could learn to be baron. He slipped the ring on Alyna’s finger wishing he could look into her eyes.
When Father Thomas bade Garin to ki ss the bride, sheer terror shot through him. It would be a miracle if his bumbling didn’t knock their heads together. But to Garin’s shock Alyna simply guided his hands to her face. His fingers touched the soft skin of her smooth cheeks, his thumbs felt the small, upturned corners of her mouth. The memory of Alyna in his arms on the balcony bloomed with perfect clarity. Her eyes wide with surprise and excitement, her warm body pressed against his cold frame.
He bent his head intending to give her a b rief, polite kiss as was proper. But his lips touched hers and the darkness ripped apart like beggars cloth. His mind’s eye filled with vibrant color, Alyna’s face beautiful before him.
Her lips were just as sweet, just as drugging as that first night he kissed her. Her mouth opened and he forgot his place, his surroundings, and for a tiny instant his pain, as he swept his tongue across hers. He delved into her mouth with a passion that startled him, savoring her honeyed taste and the sweet lavender tha t wrapped around him. Her kiss promised so
“ So did you,” he said, grinning. “We made a good team.”
“ That we did.”
Juliana gradually calmed and they turned for home, dragging the boar with them....
… Simon sighed, shaking his head. He also knew the reason why Juliana had changed and no longer supported her brother. That day had proven a turning point in their childhood and Juliana never joined their games again. Although Harold Swein praised Simon’s actions and they feasted on the boar he killed, Juliana had caught her father’s wrath f ull force.
In a sense, Simon understood her father’s fury. Simon had also been angry with Juliana for being so careless in her game, but he had curbed his tongue simply because of his relief that she was unharmed.
Her father had not been so kind, however. He had railed at her terribly. Simon had not been present for the tongue lashing, nor did he know what all was said b ut everyone in the great hall heard the lord raging at Juliana in the solar. When he finally allowed her to leave she had run from th e keep sobbing terribly.
Simon quietly followed her to the stables where she threw herself in the straw and cried in agony. His heart twisted just as painfully now as it had that night. But he had not approached her. As she cried, he hid himself in the shadows, his hand on his sword. He stayed with her, sorrow surging within him, listening to her tears which he could not allay.
She never knew he had shared each tortured sob ripped from her being and Simon would never speak of the matter. He remained alert and steadfast, guarding her through the night and into dawn when she finally picked herself up and returned to her room. Simon remained in the shadows.
Where he belonged.
Simon fingered the boar’s tusks he had strung to a leather thong and wore ar ound his neck under his tunic. To this day, Juliana never knew he had been there.
Chapter Four
In three days Garin’s headache did not go away. It only grew worse. He was hardly able to stand through the wedding ceremony at the church doors. The blood roared in his ears and the stone under his feet felt as if it undulated. Simon and Geoff stood on his right and Alyna and her maids on his left.
He wished he could see her.
No doubt she was the most beautiful bride in al l of England. Sorrow settled deep in his soul. He would never know.
Garin smelled lavender and felt her smaller hand in his, soft and warm. He heard her voice quiet but strong as she spoke the vows.
Her Uncle Roger had made the wedding bands. Garin m arveled at the delicacy of the gold under his fingers. If Roger could learn to do this without his vision surely Garin could learn to be baron. He slipped the ring on Alyna’s finger wishing he could look into her eyes.
When Father Thomas bade Garin to ki ss the bride, sheer terror shot through him. It would be a miracle if his bumbling didn’t knock their heads together. But to Garin’s shock Alyna simply guided his hands to her face. His fingers touched the soft skin of her smooth cheeks, his thumbs felt the small, upturned corners of her mouth. The memory of Alyna in his arms on the balcony bloomed with perfect clarity. Her eyes wide with surprise and excitement, her warm body pressed against his cold frame.
He bent his head intending to give her a b rief, polite kiss as was proper. But his lips touched hers and the darkness ripped apart like beggars cloth. His mind’s eye filled with vibrant color, Alyna’s face beautiful before him.
Her lips were just as sweet, just as drugging as that first night he kissed her. Her mouth opened and he forgot his place, his surroundings, and for a tiny instant his pain, as he swept his tongue across hers. He delved into her mouth with a passion that startled him, savoring her honeyed taste and the sweet lavender tha t wrapped around him. Her kiss promised so
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