Read Online The Knight and the Dove by Lori Wick - Free Book Online Page A

process. When Megan left the creamery, he wished her a pleasant day with a most sincere heart, his cap still in his beefy hand.
    “Oh, Lyndon!” Megan spoke the moment she was outside and spotted the knight; he’d been practically haunting the creamery, listening for raised voices.
    “Yes, my lady?”
    “Lyndon, where are the cows?”
    “The cows, my lady?” Lyndon questioned her with little enthusiasm, thinking he would never forgive Bracken for leaving him there alone.
    “Yes. The cows they milk for the creamery,” Megan explained kindly.
    “In the stables, my lady.”
    “And the stables are…?”
    Lyndon stared into her face. How in the world did one deal with such a woman? She had the face of an angelic five-year-old and a back-bone like an iron rod.
    “The stables, Lyndon, where are they?” Megan questioned again, her voice not quite so cordial this time.
    “Along the north wall of the keep, my lady.”
    “Thank you,” Megan beamed at him and promptly turned and started in the wrong direction.
    “Lady Megan,” Lyndon called to her. “This way,” he said when she turned. “I’ll show you.”
    “Oh, thank you, Lyndon.”
    And off they set, Megan as pleased as a lass at play, and Lyndon feeling that he’d rather be forced to wrestle with Arik than have the charge of Bracken’s intended.

     
    “And she insisted on seeing my books!” Barton, Hawkings Crest’s steward, nearly shouted.
    “She told me that it’s my fault that two of me birds have sores on their claws. Wants to reconstruct the whole cage, she does!” the falconer added.
    “She actually accused me of stealing!” the steward spouted again. “Said she’d finish reading my accounts later.”
    Bracken stared at his falconer and steward in disbelief. His stableman and smith were there also, but they had already had their say. He’d only been gone a few hours, but in that time Megan had evidently turned his castle and keep upside down. He glanced up to see her coming sedately into the hall and dismissed the men around him with a curt nod of his head.
    “Megan,” he raised his voice only slightly. “I wish to speak with you.”
    Megan stopped but did not draw close. “I’m busy right now, Bracken.”
    This was too much.
    “Megan!” he bellowed, and she redirected her course to stand before him. She did an admirable job of hiding her fear of his anger. Bracken thought she looked utterly serene.
    “My steward and smith have both been to see me, as have others. What have you to say for yourself?”
    Megan shrugged innocently. “There are several areas that are in need of change, Bracken. I think your steward might be robbing you blind.”
    “He’s been with me for years,” Bracken, now red in the face, retorted.
    Again Megan shrugged. “Be that as it may…” she let the sentence drop before plunging on, “your birds are not in the best of health. I have a poultice for their feet, but the bars will have to be sanded or the sores will return.”
    Bracken barely heard her as he began to shout. “I will not have you upsetting every servant in Hawkings Crest! I forbid you to visit the stables, and as for the other areas—”
    “That won’t work at all, Bracken,” she replied, cutting him off in acalm voice. “If I am to be the mistress of this keep, I must stay abreast of its workings. Now, I really must be off, Bracken. I have yet to see the looms.”
    With that Megan swung away from him in a cloud of long skirts and red hair. Chest heaving, Bracken stood and stared after her until he realized he was being watched. His head moved toward the man who dared, ready to give him the rough edge of his tongue, until he met the amused gaze of his Aunt Louisa.
    “She doesn’t have blonde hair after all.” His aunt’s voice was mild.
    “How do you know that’s Megan?” Bracken shot at her, his mood still dangerous.
    “Because you wouldn’t let anyone else speak to you in such a manner.”
    Bracken’s shoulders slumped