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men waited for the others to join them Michel enjoyed the food prepared for his return. The leaders from Calei still loyal to the blood of the true king, as well as Michel’s own commanders, soon gathered in the tent, filling the confined space with excited, masculine voices. Michel waited in silence, allowing their comments and exchanges to roll over him as he ate.
Between them, they debated the unexpected bounty of having the king’s niece in their midst and what use her presence could best be put to in order to further their aims. After he took the measure of each man’s stance on the subject, he effectively called a halt to their fleeting proposals about Elena’s use to them with his blunt pronouncement.
“We’re sending her back to her uncle.”
“But, my prince, the maid could prove a valuable bargaining chip for our cause,” one of the Caleinians pointed out.
“A child is not a bargaining chip,” he rebuked sharply.
The man accepted Michel’s reprimand without affront, but that did not stop him from pointing out the obvious. “As you command, my prince, but even if we do send the child back there is no way for us to prevent the culprit from simply spiriting her off a second time. If the king’s guard has been penetrated there is no guarantee Lady Elena will be safe in the palace.”
Michel nodded, aware the man spoke the truth, but he was reluctant to deprive the gentle king of his niece’s presence in what would likely prove his final hours. He was still puzzling over how to ensure the maid’s safety when the opening of the tent was suddenly thrust aside and the topic of their discussion stood framed in the center of it.
His lips curved in an amused smile at her disheveled appearance, still wrapped in his overly large cloak, and with her tangled hair trailing behind her. There was an indignant expression on her face as her gaze hurriedly searched the tent for his presence. Her indignation didn’t lessen any when their glances met, but Michel sensed her relief at seeing him again.
An astonished silence fell over the gathering as everyone turned to see the identity of the intruder who would dare to interrupt their conference without invitation. Michel’s glance met Elena’s suddenly uncertain one, but he couldn’t help but be impressed by the way she stood her ground beneath so much disapproving, male scrutiny. “You’re not sending me back to the city.”
Michel suppressed his amusement at her command and raised his brows in response to her fierce declaration. “We’re not?”
Elena’s lovely face flooded with color at his mild reply and she quickly dropped her gaze from the challenge in his, becoming belatedly aware of their interested audience. Her response to his challenge was offered in an embarrassed voice in the direction of her feet. Michel missed her muttered response. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
A fresh blush stained her cheeks when she raised her glance to his. “I said I’m not a child.”
He let his eyes roam over her as if testing the truth of her assertion. He was more comfortable with his need to protect her when he could safely tuck her away into the category of a child in need of rescuing. But reminded of her uncle’s wish that he marry his precious Elena, Michel reluctantly acknowledged there was more to her effect on him than the uncomplicated excuse he previously thought to employ that his honor demanded he keep his vow to her dying uncle to protect his niece.
He was drawn to her, Michel conceded, the way a man is attracted to a woman’s beauty. Certainly she didn’t lack a woman’s feminine charms. He had not been unmindful of the fullness of her breasts when she slept in his arms or of her enticing womanly fragrance that clung to her even after a hard ride in a filthy sack tied to the back of a horse.
Such an attraction was an inconvenience he could ill afford at this stage of his plans. What was he supposed
Between them, they debated the unexpected bounty of having the king’s niece in their midst and what use her presence could best be put to in order to further their aims. After he took the measure of each man’s stance on the subject, he effectively called a halt to their fleeting proposals about Elena’s use to them with his blunt pronouncement.
“We’re sending her back to her uncle.”
“But, my prince, the maid could prove a valuable bargaining chip for our cause,” one of the Caleinians pointed out.
“A child is not a bargaining chip,” he rebuked sharply.
The man accepted Michel’s reprimand without affront, but that did not stop him from pointing out the obvious. “As you command, my prince, but even if we do send the child back there is no way for us to prevent the culprit from simply spiriting her off a second time. If the king’s guard has been penetrated there is no guarantee Lady Elena will be safe in the palace.”
Michel nodded, aware the man spoke the truth, but he was reluctant to deprive the gentle king of his niece’s presence in what would likely prove his final hours. He was still puzzling over how to ensure the maid’s safety when the opening of the tent was suddenly thrust aside and the topic of their discussion stood framed in the center of it.
His lips curved in an amused smile at her disheveled appearance, still wrapped in his overly large cloak, and with her tangled hair trailing behind her. There was an indignant expression on her face as her gaze hurriedly searched the tent for his presence. Her indignation didn’t lessen any when their glances met, but Michel sensed her relief at seeing him again.
An astonished silence fell over the gathering as everyone turned to see the identity of the intruder who would dare to interrupt their conference without invitation. Michel’s glance met Elena’s suddenly uncertain one, but he couldn’t help but be impressed by the way she stood her ground beneath so much disapproving, male scrutiny. “You’re not sending me back to the city.”
Michel suppressed his amusement at her command and raised his brows in response to her fierce declaration. “We’re not?”
Elena’s lovely face flooded with color at his mild reply and she quickly dropped her gaze from the challenge in his, becoming belatedly aware of their interested audience. Her response to his challenge was offered in an embarrassed voice in the direction of her feet. Michel missed her muttered response. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
A fresh blush stained her cheeks when she raised her glance to his. “I said I’m not a child.”
He let his eyes roam over her as if testing the truth of her assertion. He was more comfortable with his need to protect her when he could safely tuck her away into the category of a child in need of rescuing. But reminded of her uncle’s wish that he marry his precious Elena, Michel reluctantly acknowledged there was more to her effect on him than the uncomplicated excuse he previously thought to employ that his honor demanded he keep his vow to her dying uncle to protect his niece.
He was drawn to her, Michel conceded, the way a man is attracted to a woman’s beauty. Certainly she didn’t lack a woman’s feminine charms. He had not been unmindful of the fullness of her breasts when she slept in his arms or of her enticing womanly fragrance that clung to her even after a hard ride in a filthy sack tied to the back of a horse.
Such an attraction was an inconvenience he could ill afford at this stage of his plans. What was he supposed
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