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Geoffrey had listened to her and had not pushed her accusations aside. If he decided Belwain innocent, then Elizabeth would take matters into her own hands.
“Come, Elizabeth. The hour grows late. We will talk of this when we are within the manor.”
“I need not be there when you question Belwain,” Elizabeth argued. “And I have no wish to look upon hisevil face. No,” she continued, ignoring the anger she read on his face, “I will stay here until Belwain has been—”
The roar interrupted Elizabeth’s sentence. In one swift action the lord lifted her high up into his arms. The dogs began to growl but the warrior ignored them as he turned and started back toward the waterfall.
God, but she was a stubborn bit of goods, Geoffrey thought with irritation. She seemed to have absolutely no fear whatsoever of her master, and that both amused and angered the knight. He wasn’t used to such brashness. And yet, he reasoned, he did not wish her to cower in his presence. She confused him, he admitted, confused . . . and delighted him. Still, he would have to do something about her disposition, her inclination to argue. She would have to learn her place, her lot. He couldn’t very well present her to William until she learned to curb her tongue. While William’s opinion did not rule Geoffrey’s life, he admitted that he did not wish his king to think Geoffrey’s wife was but a shrew! Wife! Aye, he told himself, she would be his wife. There could be no other way to keep her with him. It would be a grave insult to the late vassal, Elizabeth’s father, if he took Elizabeth as mistress. Thomas was a loyal and honest man; Geoffrey could not shame his memory by soiling his daughter and then casting her aside.
I do this for Thomas, Geoffrey found himself thinking. He did not think that he loved Elizabeth, for he did not think he could love any woman. Past betrayal had sealed his heart against such vulnerability. Yet the fates had decreed, from the moment he sighted her on the rise above the manor before the battle, that they be together. He did not understand why he wanted her at his side, why she had come to mean such a great deal to him in such a short time, but he would follow his inclinations. Perhaps it was all superstition on his partand she was his talisman. He did not know and did not care.
Besides, it was time, he almost said aloud. Time for the begetting of sons.
“Put me down, my lord,” Elizabeth ordered for the third time. She saw that the scar on the side of his cheek had grown quite red and decided that she had over-stepped her position. “Please,” she amended in a soft voice. “I have my horse and my possessions to gather.”
“Tomorrow your servant can fetch your things.”
What a stubborn, unbending man Lord Geoffrey was, Elizabeth thought. Odd, but she found she wasn’t upset any longer. A deep faith that he would right the wrongs to her family made her content for the moment.
They did not speak again until they were well on their way back to the manor. Elizabeth sat in front of the lord on his powerful charger and could not help but lean against him as they rode through the forest at a neck-breaking pace.
“Do you know what you will do with me? Where you will send me?” Elizabeth asked, thinking that she would like to stay near her brother.
“Aye,” Geoffrey replied in a rough voice. He was trying to concentrate on getting them to safety, his senses alert, but Elizabeth’s nearness was unsettling. From the moment he had lifted her into his arms, a sense of well-being, of calmness, invaded the warrior. It was as if he could breathe again, and she was the fresh air he needed to survive. He tightened his hold, pleased when she did not protest. The top of her head was nestled just under his chin, and the knight found it a hard task not to rub his cheek against the softness of her golden hair.
Elizabeth waited for what seemed an eternity for Lord Geoffrey to continue, but the lord seemed
“Come, Elizabeth. The hour grows late. We will talk of this when we are within the manor.”
“I need not be there when you question Belwain,” Elizabeth argued. “And I have no wish to look upon hisevil face. No,” she continued, ignoring the anger she read on his face, “I will stay here until Belwain has been—”
The roar interrupted Elizabeth’s sentence. In one swift action the lord lifted her high up into his arms. The dogs began to growl but the warrior ignored them as he turned and started back toward the waterfall.
God, but she was a stubborn bit of goods, Geoffrey thought with irritation. She seemed to have absolutely no fear whatsoever of her master, and that both amused and angered the knight. He wasn’t used to such brashness. And yet, he reasoned, he did not wish her to cower in his presence. She confused him, he admitted, confused . . . and delighted him. Still, he would have to do something about her disposition, her inclination to argue. She would have to learn her place, her lot. He couldn’t very well present her to William until she learned to curb her tongue. While William’s opinion did not rule Geoffrey’s life, he admitted that he did not wish his king to think Geoffrey’s wife was but a shrew! Wife! Aye, he told himself, she would be his wife. There could be no other way to keep her with him. It would be a grave insult to the late vassal, Elizabeth’s father, if he took Elizabeth as mistress. Thomas was a loyal and honest man; Geoffrey could not shame his memory by soiling his daughter and then casting her aside.
I do this for Thomas, Geoffrey found himself thinking. He did not think that he loved Elizabeth, for he did not think he could love any woman. Past betrayal had sealed his heart against such vulnerability. Yet the fates had decreed, from the moment he sighted her on the rise above the manor before the battle, that they be together. He did not understand why he wanted her at his side, why she had come to mean such a great deal to him in such a short time, but he would follow his inclinations. Perhaps it was all superstition on his partand she was his talisman. He did not know and did not care.
Besides, it was time, he almost said aloud. Time for the begetting of sons.
“Put me down, my lord,” Elizabeth ordered for the third time. She saw that the scar on the side of his cheek had grown quite red and decided that she had over-stepped her position. “Please,” she amended in a soft voice. “I have my horse and my possessions to gather.”
“Tomorrow your servant can fetch your things.”
What a stubborn, unbending man Lord Geoffrey was, Elizabeth thought. Odd, but she found she wasn’t upset any longer. A deep faith that he would right the wrongs to her family made her content for the moment.
They did not speak again until they were well on their way back to the manor. Elizabeth sat in front of the lord on his powerful charger and could not help but lean against him as they rode through the forest at a neck-breaking pace.
“Do you know what you will do with me? Where you will send me?” Elizabeth asked, thinking that she would like to stay near her brother.
“Aye,” Geoffrey replied in a rough voice. He was trying to concentrate on getting them to safety, his senses alert, but Elizabeth’s nearness was unsettling. From the moment he had lifted her into his arms, a sense of well-being, of calmness, invaded the warrior. It was as if he could breathe again, and she was the fresh air he needed to survive. He tightened his hold, pleased when she did not protest. The top of her head was nestled just under his chin, and the knight found it a hard task not to rub his cheek against the softness of her golden hair.
Elizabeth waited for what seemed an eternity for Lord Geoffrey to continue, but the lord seemed
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