Read Online Only For A Knight by Sue-Ellen Welfonder - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sue-Ellen Welfonder
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pinched-face maid lacking the charms to challenge even the least discriminating mans masculine susceptibilities.
You surprise me, Sir Marmaduke. Linnet raised her brows. Neer have I heard you speak so harshly of a woman.
He had the good grace to appear chagrined . . . but only for a moment. Then perchance you have spent too little time around me when I see those I love sinking into a bog of their own digging.
Linnet made no response.
She could not tell him of the fine flame-haired lass shed glimpsed in the hearth fire. For meant to be or nay, in the end, a soul must choose its own freely followed path. She could only pray Robbie would choose his hearts path and not the road paved by duty.
Linnets scar-faced champion of old gave something like a sigh.
I crave your pardon, lady, he said, sounding anything but contrite. Tis only that in earlier times, Duncan would have never tolerated such deep-reaching changes to his household.
He made a great sweeping gesture with his arm, drew her attention to the cold stone floor, now swept free of the thick layer of rushes so crucial to lending warmth and comfort. A necessity, too, in absorbing the worst of the halls ceaseless din.
Nay, nay, nay, I say you, in days past, he would have stormed through here bellowing rage like a goaded bull. He looked at her. And the worse for any who may have tried to stop him. Yet now, on my soul
My lord only wishes the best for his son. And Kintail. His people, Linnet broke in, her fingers tightening on her wine cup. And mayhap, too, he has simply grown weary of strife.
She looked toward the hearth again, stared at the small flames yet curling along the bottom of the fire log.
He is not overly concerned because I have assured him all will be well with Robbies marriagedespite Lady Euphemias tight-lipped scowls. She slanted a glance at her friend. Can you not trust me as well?
Sir Marmaduke drew a deep breath, pulled down a hand over his mouth. I should have faith when, by Gods good graces, you and all within these walls seem bent on allowing this keep to be turned into a castle of gloom?
He leaned close again, so near this time that his breath hushed against her cheek. Dear lady, even your husbands precious hounds have been banished from the dais. Think you Robbie will not notice that change alone? You know how he favors dogs.
Och, to be sure and I do, Linnet agreed, remembering Robbies childhood devotion to old Mauger, the grandsire of nigh every dog within Eilean Creags stout castle walls. And mayhap a goodly number beyond!
But in truth, shed scarce heard her friends words for her attention had drifted . . . elsewhere. Cold sweat beginning to trickle between her breasts, she pressed her feet against the unyielding stone of the now-bare dais floor and focused on connecting herself to her surroundings. Anything to distract her from the increasingly persistent chills and tingles.
The unsettling drone of approaching bees.
Is aught amiss, lady? Sir Marmaduke laid a hand on her arm, the friendly contact pulling her back from the loud-buzzing abyss.
I am . . . well, she lied, not wishing to alarm himnor hearing a word of his concerned response.
The buzzing noise would just not go away.
Refusing to tremble, she managed a glance to the far end of the hall where her two daughters lay sprawled across the twin-facing benches of a deep window embrasure. They, too, sometimes possessed the power to call her back, her love for them strong enough to stave off the dread visitations before they could manifest.
If she could focus well enough.
Something she hadnt been able to do in recent days.
Hoping desperately that she could now, she peered deep into the window alcove. The flickering glow of a nearby pitch-pine torch cast sparse illumination into the arched recess. Not much light,
You surprise me, Sir Marmaduke. Linnet raised her brows. Neer have I heard you speak so harshly of a woman.
He had the good grace to appear chagrined . . . but only for a moment. Then perchance you have spent too little time around me when I see those I love sinking into a bog of their own digging.
Linnet made no response.
She could not tell him of the fine flame-haired lass shed glimpsed in the hearth fire. For meant to be or nay, in the end, a soul must choose its own freely followed path. She could only pray Robbie would choose his hearts path and not the road paved by duty.
Linnets scar-faced champion of old gave something like a sigh.
I crave your pardon, lady, he said, sounding anything but contrite. Tis only that in earlier times, Duncan would have never tolerated such deep-reaching changes to his household.
He made a great sweeping gesture with his arm, drew her attention to the cold stone floor, now swept free of the thick layer of rushes so crucial to lending warmth and comfort. A necessity, too, in absorbing the worst of the halls ceaseless din.
Nay, nay, nay, I say you, in days past, he would have stormed through here bellowing rage like a goaded bull. He looked at her. And the worse for any who may have tried to stop him. Yet now, on my soul
My lord only wishes the best for his son. And Kintail. His people, Linnet broke in, her fingers tightening on her wine cup. And mayhap, too, he has simply grown weary of strife.
She looked toward the hearth again, stared at the small flames yet curling along the bottom of the fire log.
He is not overly concerned because I have assured him all will be well with Robbies marriagedespite Lady Euphemias tight-lipped scowls. She slanted a glance at her friend. Can you not trust me as well?
Sir Marmaduke drew a deep breath, pulled down a hand over his mouth. I should have faith when, by Gods good graces, you and all within these walls seem bent on allowing this keep to be turned into a castle of gloom?
He leaned close again, so near this time that his breath hushed against her cheek. Dear lady, even your husbands precious hounds have been banished from the dais. Think you Robbie will not notice that change alone? You know how he favors dogs.
Och, to be sure and I do, Linnet agreed, remembering Robbies childhood devotion to old Mauger, the grandsire of nigh every dog within Eilean Creags stout castle walls. And mayhap a goodly number beyond!
But in truth, shed scarce heard her friends words for her attention had drifted . . . elsewhere. Cold sweat beginning to trickle between her breasts, she pressed her feet against the unyielding stone of the now-bare dais floor and focused on connecting herself to her surroundings. Anything to distract her from the increasingly persistent chills and tingles.
The unsettling drone of approaching bees.
Is aught amiss, lady? Sir Marmaduke laid a hand on her arm, the friendly contact pulling her back from the loud-buzzing abyss.
I am . . . well, she lied, not wishing to alarm himnor hearing a word of his concerned response.
The buzzing noise would just not go away.
Refusing to tremble, she managed a glance to the far end of the hall where her two daughters lay sprawled across the twin-facing benches of a deep window embrasure. They, too, sometimes possessed the power to call her back, her love for them strong enough to stave off the dread visitations before they could manifest.
If she could focus well enough.
Something she hadnt been able to do in recent days.
Hoping desperately that she could now, she peered deep into the window alcove. The flickering glow of a nearby pitch-pine torch cast sparse illumination into the arched recess. Not much light,
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