Read Online Rexanne Becnel by Dove at Midnight - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dove at Midnight
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fixed on Joanna.
When she steered a little south of them, pushed by the slant of the wind, he made a decision. “Stay here with the others. I would confront our reluctant bride alone.”
At Kell’s short, knowing laugh, Rylan’s brow lowered. “She’s an innocent young girl. Keep your base thoughts to yourself.”
“If she’s that innocent, how shall you know what to do with her?” Then the normally silent Kell walked off, laughing still at his own humor.
Rylan did not dwell on Kell’s wry comment, for he knew that innocent maidens were indeed foreign territory for him. He leaned more toward married noblewomen, well versed in pleasing a man and satisfied with an occasional tryst. For that very reason he dreaded his coming union with the young Lady Marilyn Crosley. Virgins were not in his line. But as he settled into his saddle, he was reminded once more that the virgin who roamed the moor just beyond had managed to rouse more than merely his casual interest.
By the Rood, but he had been too long without a woman if he was lusting after young girls now. And a novice in a religious order, no less. Once he returned to Blaecston he would remedy that situation at once.
Within the protective cover of the woods, he made his way down to a spot beyond where Joanna would most likely reach the treeline. There he dismounted and tied his horse, then leaned back against an elm tree to wait. He kept his gaze on Joanna, watching as she futilely attempted to subdue her hair, then stood a little straighter when she reached down and pulled the hem of her skirt up to tuck securely into her rope girdle. She walked much easier through the thick growth in the meadow then, but he did not care at all about that. As she hurried along, his eyes were drawn to her well-formed legs. The slender ankles and shapely calves. The dimpled knees. She wore no hose, he noted, and once more an unwonted heat suffused him.
“Christ and bedamned!” he swore under his breath. Had the girl no sense of propriety at all? Bad enough to wander fields and forests unprotected, but displaying herself this way was unforgivable!
As tense as if he faced a foe in battle, Rylan crept silently nearer. Her face was hidden still, as much by her hair whipping in the wind at her back, as by the fact that her face was averted.
Another reckless mistake, he fumed. She was walking into a dark forest without the least care to be certain it was safe. She worried more that she might trip than that some evildoer might be lurking about!
Rylan’s assumption was indeed correct. As Joanna made her way through the thick profusion of heathers and field grasses, she was making very certain not to trip. The wind was blowing so hard at her back that she could barely slow her pace enough to keep her feet before her. Just a little farther, she thought as she glimpsed the trees ahead from the corner of her eye. She tried and failed to catch her hair in her hand, then stumbled over a stone and nearly fell. Out of breath, she glanced up as the trees loomed before her, but instead of feeling relief, a sudden spurt of terror jolted her. In the shadows of the forest a tall form lay in wait!
Joanna did not pause to think. It was a man and he had not called out to her as she had approached. She needed no more than that to be filled with alarm. In an instant she whirled, and as if the devil pursued her, she fled toward the priory and safety.
“Damnation!”
The man’s curse carried to her ears, redoubling Joanna’s fear. He had been waiting for her! Now he was certain to follow!
She ran as fast as she could—as she’d never run before. But the wind was against her now, holding her back no matter how fast she ran. She felt the scratch of heather against her skin. Her heart pounded thunderously in her chest, and she feared her lungs would collapse with her effort. But still she struggled forward.
Then she heard him closing on her, and before she could veer out of his grasp, he had
When she steered a little south of them, pushed by the slant of the wind, he made a decision. “Stay here with the others. I would confront our reluctant bride alone.”
At Kell’s short, knowing laugh, Rylan’s brow lowered. “She’s an innocent young girl. Keep your base thoughts to yourself.”
“If she’s that innocent, how shall you know what to do with her?” Then the normally silent Kell walked off, laughing still at his own humor.
Rylan did not dwell on Kell’s wry comment, for he knew that innocent maidens were indeed foreign territory for him. He leaned more toward married noblewomen, well versed in pleasing a man and satisfied with an occasional tryst. For that very reason he dreaded his coming union with the young Lady Marilyn Crosley. Virgins were not in his line. But as he settled into his saddle, he was reminded once more that the virgin who roamed the moor just beyond had managed to rouse more than merely his casual interest.
By the Rood, but he had been too long without a woman if he was lusting after young girls now. And a novice in a religious order, no less. Once he returned to Blaecston he would remedy that situation at once.
Within the protective cover of the woods, he made his way down to a spot beyond where Joanna would most likely reach the treeline. There he dismounted and tied his horse, then leaned back against an elm tree to wait. He kept his gaze on Joanna, watching as she futilely attempted to subdue her hair, then stood a little straighter when she reached down and pulled the hem of her skirt up to tuck securely into her rope girdle. She walked much easier through the thick growth in the meadow then, but he did not care at all about that. As she hurried along, his eyes were drawn to her well-formed legs. The slender ankles and shapely calves. The dimpled knees. She wore no hose, he noted, and once more an unwonted heat suffused him.
“Christ and bedamned!” he swore under his breath. Had the girl no sense of propriety at all? Bad enough to wander fields and forests unprotected, but displaying herself this way was unforgivable!
As tense as if he faced a foe in battle, Rylan crept silently nearer. Her face was hidden still, as much by her hair whipping in the wind at her back, as by the fact that her face was averted.
Another reckless mistake, he fumed. She was walking into a dark forest without the least care to be certain it was safe. She worried more that she might trip than that some evildoer might be lurking about!
Rylan’s assumption was indeed correct. As Joanna made her way through the thick profusion of heathers and field grasses, she was making very certain not to trip. The wind was blowing so hard at her back that she could barely slow her pace enough to keep her feet before her. Just a little farther, she thought as she glimpsed the trees ahead from the corner of her eye. She tried and failed to catch her hair in her hand, then stumbled over a stone and nearly fell. Out of breath, she glanced up as the trees loomed before her, but instead of feeling relief, a sudden spurt of terror jolted her. In the shadows of the forest a tall form lay in wait!
Joanna did not pause to think. It was a man and he had not called out to her as she had approached. She needed no more than that to be filled with alarm. In an instant she whirled, and as if the devil pursued her, she fled toward the priory and safety.
“Damnation!”
The man’s curse carried to her ears, redoubling Joanna’s fear. He had been waiting for her! Now he was certain to follow!
She ran as fast as she could—as she’d never run before. But the wind was against her now, holding her back no matter how fast she ran. She felt the scratch of heather against her skin. Her heart pounded thunderously in her chest, and she feared her lungs would collapse with her effort. But still she struggled forward.
Then she heard him closing on her, and before she could veer out of his grasp, he had
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