Read Online My Lady's Guardian by Gayle Callen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gayle Callen
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Romance, Historical, Contemporary, England, Love Stories, England - Social Life and Customs - 1066-1485
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her. With the twins, they were almost a cozy foursome. Every time she looked from one twin to the other, there he was in the center, watching her, his long legs stretched out, booted feet almost touching hers. His hose were threadbare, his plain blue tunic tattered at the hem. His white shirt had seen too many days. She had never in her life been wooed by a man so obviously lacking in money.
And she wasn't now, she reminded herself. Gareth was a soldier she had hired, nothing more. She moved her feet away. He shifted his feet near again, like a childish game—or a suitor trying to get her attention.
She didn't know why she was so tense; she knew his actions meant nothing. She should practice controlling her anger, for she knew tomorrow would begin a real courtship, when those wild young men came from London. Then she would be thankful for Gareth and his protection.
Cicely continued to strum the lute, but Anne stopped singing.
She gave Margery a conspiratorial smile, then said, "Sir Gareth, have you come to Hawksbury Castle to better acquaint yourself with Mistress Margery?"
He linked his hands across his stomach. "Yes, my lady," he said, his deep voice deferential.
Margery's heart sped up with unexpected worry. She and Gareth had never discussed what story they would tell the world. He could create any wild, oudandish tale, and she could not say him wrong.
"So you have met before?" Anne continued.
"We knew one another as children, when I fostered at Wellespring Castle."
"As children," Anne repeated, glancing from Margery to Cicely, her eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.
He nodded. "I was a few years older, and in my youthful foolishness, thought myself quite beyond the childish games she wanted to play with me."
The twins giggled, while Margery's gaze was frozen on him. She had never thought he would be capable of banter.
"She followed me everywhere," he said, glancing at her. "I confess that I often made certain she could not find me."
Margery wanted to jump to her feet and defend herself, to swear that he was making up lies. But a deep part of her wondered if it was true. Had she been so annoying? Surely that couldn't be the only reason he was bitter toward her and her family.
Then Gareth leaned forward and took her hands in his. Though she tried to pull away, he gripped them harder, uncomfortably so. Was this just another contest he needed to win?
"Mistress Margery, I have learned the error of my ways."
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. His skin was warm, rough, and callused from hard work. It heated her palms, and the warmth spread up her arms to tingle through her breasts. When those golden eyes captured hers, she had a hard time disbelieving anything he said.
Cicely stopped strumming the lute to openly watch this new entertainment.
Anne said, "Sir Gareth, if you fostered with Margery's family, why have you not visited her before? Did you think she was still a child?"
His gaze dropped down her body. Margery thought, Please let him not feel my foolish trembling.
"No, not a child," he said, his eyes returning once more to search her face. "I have lived in Europe for the last four years. I met many women, but always, in the back of my mind, I wondered about my childhood friend."
She heard the subtle sarcasm meant only for her ears. He hadn't thought of her at all. "According to you, I was more of a childhood tormentor."
Everyone laughed, and she forced her own smile.
"But that does not mean I didn't admire your spirit."
Gareth finally released her hands and she quickly sat back. She felt the prickle of perspiration on her upper lip, and she desperately wished to wipe it— and any trace of her reacdon to him—away. How humiliating to be so affected by a man who stayed with her only out of duty. She fervently wished that she hadn't thrown away her innocence, that she didn't know where such feelings could lead.
"But why return now?" Cicely asked, setting the lute aside.
Margery could see
And she wasn't now, she reminded herself. Gareth was a soldier she had hired, nothing more. She moved her feet away. He shifted his feet near again, like a childish game—or a suitor trying to get her attention.
She didn't know why she was so tense; she knew his actions meant nothing. She should practice controlling her anger, for she knew tomorrow would begin a real courtship, when those wild young men came from London. Then she would be thankful for Gareth and his protection.
Cicely continued to strum the lute, but Anne stopped singing.
She gave Margery a conspiratorial smile, then said, "Sir Gareth, have you come to Hawksbury Castle to better acquaint yourself with Mistress Margery?"
He linked his hands across his stomach. "Yes, my lady," he said, his deep voice deferential.
Margery's heart sped up with unexpected worry. She and Gareth had never discussed what story they would tell the world. He could create any wild, oudandish tale, and she could not say him wrong.
"So you have met before?" Anne continued.
"We knew one another as children, when I fostered at Wellespring Castle."
"As children," Anne repeated, glancing from Margery to Cicely, her eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.
He nodded. "I was a few years older, and in my youthful foolishness, thought myself quite beyond the childish games she wanted to play with me."
The twins giggled, while Margery's gaze was frozen on him. She had never thought he would be capable of banter.
"She followed me everywhere," he said, glancing at her. "I confess that I often made certain she could not find me."
Margery wanted to jump to her feet and defend herself, to swear that he was making up lies. But a deep part of her wondered if it was true. Had she been so annoying? Surely that couldn't be the only reason he was bitter toward her and her family.
Then Gareth leaned forward and took her hands in his. Though she tried to pull away, he gripped them harder, uncomfortably so. Was this just another contest he needed to win?
"Mistress Margery, I have learned the error of my ways."
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. His skin was warm, rough, and callused from hard work. It heated her palms, and the warmth spread up her arms to tingle through her breasts. When those golden eyes captured hers, she had a hard time disbelieving anything he said.
Cicely stopped strumming the lute to openly watch this new entertainment.
Anne said, "Sir Gareth, if you fostered with Margery's family, why have you not visited her before? Did you think she was still a child?"
His gaze dropped down her body. Margery thought, Please let him not feel my foolish trembling.
"No, not a child," he said, his eyes returning once more to search her face. "I have lived in Europe for the last four years. I met many women, but always, in the back of my mind, I wondered about my childhood friend."
She heard the subtle sarcasm meant only for her ears. He hadn't thought of her at all. "According to you, I was more of a childhood tormentor."
Everyone laughed, and she forced her own smile.
"But that does not mean I didn't admire your spirit."
Gareth finally released her hands and she quickly sat back. She felt the prickle of perspiration on her upper lip, and she desperately wished to wipe it— and any trace of her reacdon to him—away. How humiliating to be so affected by a man who stayed with her only out of duty. She fervently wished that she hadn't thrown away her innocence, that she didn't know where such feelings could lead.
"But why return now?" Cicely asked, setting the lute aside.
Margery could see
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