Read Online Magic in His Kiss by Shari Anton - Free Book Online Page A

sovereign now makes good on that intention, so long as they do not know the identity of the groom?”
    “Perhaps, but until I receive word from King Stephen to do otherwise, both the lady and bard remain in our custody.”
    Vexed with the stubborn earl, Nicole pondered over what to do next. Good manners and sound reasoning hadn’t moved him, but she doubted he would be budged by tears or a fit of temper, either, ploys she hadn’t used since childhood and refused to resort to now.
    With an inward sigh, Nicole conceded she had no choice but to await the king’s decision, which might not come for several days even if the messengers were swift. For herself, she could abide, being in no immediate danger. But Rhodri was locked in a tower cell, and she wanted him out and on his way back to Wales before anyone discovered that the reason for his visit hadn’t been as innocent as they were claiming.
    Too, this matter of her marriage wasn’t right. The king should have, at the least, informed her brother-by-marriage, Alberic. Camelen bordered Wales, so Alberic should have some say in the matter of any proposed alliance with a Welsh noble. Neither the earl nor the castellan would be willing to allow her to send a message to her family, but if she could help Rhodri escape he might be willing to carry a message to Camelen before returning to Glenvair.
    Her brother’s dagger weighing heavy in her boot, Nicole gathered her composure once more.
    “My lords, since I am at your mercy in this affair, I ask a boon. I am concerned for Rhodri’s welfare, as I am sure he is concerned for mine. Might I be allowed to see him, for a few moments only, to banish our common fears?”
    The men looked to each other, silently debating the wisdom of granting the request. De Chesney shrugged a shoulder, as if to say he saw no harm in granting the boon, but left the decision to the earl.
    De Vere rubbed at his chin for a moment before relenting. “I shall grant the boon, but do not linger. Walter, pray escort Lady Nicole to the Welshman’s cell, and ensure she returns in short order.”
    “As you say, my lord.” The captain of the castle guard waved a hand toward the door. “My lady?”
    Nicole curtsied to the earl once more, hoping her delight in his concession didn’t show overmuch. “My thanks,” she said before scurrying out of the solar.
    Short of stature, round of build, Sir Walter had always reminded Nicole of a bear, rather lumbering in his movements and lacking in social graces. All thought of judging him ineffective, however, had ended when she once observed him in the practice yard. As with a bear, one would not wish to come up against Sir Walter without warning or in the dark. And as captain of the guard, he expected his men to match his high standard of physical ability and proficiency with weapons.
    Walter said not a word as he arrowed across the bustling bailey on this brilliant afternoon, the air warm and redolent with the odor of the earth beneath her feet and of horses and hay from the stables. Nicole clutched her skirts, hiking them up to avoid soiling the hems of either shift or gown, but not high enough to expose the hilt of the dagger.
    Heads turned as they passed, and she noted the surprised looks on those few who recognized her in her new finery. Later, she might visit the gregarious blacksmith and the always amusing stable master.
    Too, she must arrange another meeting with the earl. Nicole consoled herself by remembering that Mother Abbess hadn’t always won battles during the first foray into the field. Sometimes several skirmishes were necessary before gaining an opponent’s surrender. She just had to think of the most effective argument to gain the most advantage.
    But for now Nicole shifted her focus to her destination, the northernmost guard tower along the high, thick curtain wall.
    While still in the bailey, Nicole heard the sound of a harp and, from the unholy noise, knew the harp’s master didn’t play it.