Read Online Silverhawk by Barbara Bettis - Free Book Online Page B

she’d never see him again.
    She must, must remember the facts. She, Emelin the Undesirable, was twenty years of age. In spite of her dreams, a life at the convent had been reality until Garley arranged this marriage. God knew it was not what she’d hoped for, but she accepted it. Well, she had pretty nearly accepted it.
    Dear heaven, what thoughts. She wrenched her attention back to her new betrothed who pounded his knuckles against the wood slab table and shouted, “It’s our duty.”
    This marriage was her duty. Perhaps it was Lord Osbert’s nature to be abrupt and dismissive. Perhaps he had cared for his wives and truly grieved their loss. Perhaps he would value her, grant her the respect and freedom she had come to believe important to a woman.
    Perhaps.
    Garley’s smirk caught her eye. He nodded smugly. He knew she dreaded the marriage, and he was pleased at her discomfort. But Emelin could grow accustomed to anything. Experience taught that.
    Although her early plumpness had rearranged itself into surprising curves and valleys, and her youthful bright hair had matured into auburn, she knew her physical limitations. Chin too stubborn, mouth too generous, eyes too green. How her loving brother had tormented the young Emelin about all of those shortcomings.
    She shook her head sharply to dispel the memory. Garley still watched. He glowered and tapped his cheek, a reminder of their earlier talk. For a moment, her childhood fear of him pulsed. Her gaze jerked away.
    And slammed against silver ice. He glanced at her brother, then back. Dark brows rose, his mouth curved dismissively, and he flicked a long finger.
    As if she could read his mind, she heard: “This man is not worth your concern.” His face remained impassive, the corners of his eyes barely moved, but she felt his smile. The power of their exchange in the wagon swept back, carrying with it her confidence that had wavered.
    Emelin still didn’t know his name, but her body knew his touch. It tingled with memories of his kiss. She ought to have felt threatened by his embrace. Instead, she’d felt safe. Protected. Even the musky spice of his scent had been comforting.
    As if reading her thoughts, his wide, expressive mouth twitched and one eyebrow lifted.
    The nerve of the man. But she couldn’t look away.
    “He’s dangerous.” Evie’s low voice broke her concentration.
    Emelin’s gaze veered toward the ladies, where Lady Dulsie spoke in raptures of Lord Henry’s attributes as an unwed baron. Evie ducked her head to whisper.
    “He’s Sir Giles of Cambrai. Silverhawk. He’s a notorious mercenary. Not someone a lady wants to know.” Then she giggled. “But isn’t he gorgeous? In a forbidden sort of way?”
    Forbidden. Exactly. Everything Emelin could never have. Her lips throbbed.
    “Yes,” she answered. “He seems very sure of himself, doesn’t he?”
    “I think all warriors must be that confident, else they’d never survive.”
    “Oh, my, Lady Evelynn. Do you know the dangerous mercenary with your brother?” Lady Dulsie must have overheard some of their private conversation and didn’t mind intruding.
    “Come tell us all about him. Everyone has heard the stories.” The lady’s attempt at lowering her voice merely ensured it carried, caught his attention. “He doesn’t look like a slaughterer of innocents.”
    His half-smile widened cynically. Black waves framed his lean face with its square jaw and glittering eyes. He did indeed look dangerous. He winked at Evie.
    “Oh,” Evie sputtered, then giggled again. “If my brother saw that, he’d clip the Hawk’s wings.”
    His gaze touched Emelin’s again, then flicked back to Garley. The knight’s face blanked, yet in that moment, she felt reassured. A dangerous mercenary indeed. Emelin could believe it. But she also believed in the confidence he gave her, irrational though it might be.
    Drawing a deep breath, Emelin felt as if she could burst. She needed time alone, but it would