cupped her shoulder and lightly squeezed reassurance because he sensed her apprehension.
“I will come back, Morgan. You have my word as a King's man. In the mean time, you are not to leave the area. Stay put, you hear me?" He shook his finger for emphasis. "That is an order not a request. And use this if you have to,” he said shoving a mean looking knife into her hands.
He was no longer jesting and his command was serious. Her safety depended on her following his order and staying put. He had to trust her as much as she did him.
Nic gracefully swung up onto Demon’s back, the beast protesting to the added weight of the unfamiliar rider. As Demon settled, bowing to the superior rider, Nic paused to give Morgan an opportunity to protest. Instead, she awarded him with a single nod of consent and a small uncertain wave of good bye. Wheeling Demon around without a backward glimpse, he headed back to the main road and into the late morning sun.
Chapter 13
“Blast it all! What is taking that man so long?” Morgan wondered aloud.
She could have bartered a dozen horses, secured all the necessary supplies to support a yearlong siege, and baked bread in the time it was taking him.
Morgan was growing restless.
Not always a good thing, she thought. Her apprehension was a big part of that restlessness.
She was alone, but that did not bother her. It was a natural state. Yet, somehow this time it felt different, and she was growing concerned for Nic's safety. It never occurred to her that she was in any danger.
Nic's company was not so bad now that she was beginning to become accustom to him. As long as she kept her distance thinking of him as protection, she was in truth very comfortable. Only when she thought of him as a man did her uneasiness resurface, and that was not because she felt he would abuse her. She was his responsibility, and she knew he would take that responsibility seriously.
They had ridden in silence talking little. Well, she was supposed to be mute after all and he was a man of few words, and even fewer words spoken about him. She knew that he was extremely confident in whom he was as a man and soldier. That being the case, he probably did not feel the need to secure her approval. She was his squire and even if he treated her with respect, she was still no one of importance in standing of his rank.
Most everything Morgan knew of Nic was what he had shared the first day. He was from the far north, and she would have picked that up from his accent. His burr was unmistakably a bastardized mix of Scotland, Ireland, and the King's English. He told her he was heading north after he finished taking care of some business at Seabridge. That corresponded with his accent. She knew it was
nasty business,
but obviously, it was not urgent business or currently they would not be heading back to London.
She knew he was King Henry’s knight and in high standing. No doubts there.
"That's obvious," she said to Trojan.
Morgan watched him practice the previous day prior to turning in for the evening. With his fighting skill, she could see him being high on the king’s list of favorites. With his dark, good looks, it would not surprise her if he were a top favorite of the ladies, too. He was one of the most devastatingly handsome men she had ever seen, which was even more reason for her to keep her distance. Her survival instincts were telling her to stay close enough for the protection that he was offering, but preserve enough distance between them to never touch.
Coming back to her surrounding and out of her thoughts, Morgan realized she could not see the clearing where Nic had left her with clear instructions to stay put. Thank heavens she had brought Nic’s prized horse with her.
“Leave me behind, but not his horse.” She made a most undignified sound at her mental musings of Nic and what he could do with his horse. "Although he is beautiful," Morgan said as she patted the beast, lovingly
“I will come back, Morgan. You have my word as a King's man. In the mean time, you are not to leave the area. Stay put, you hear me?" He shook his finger for emphasis. "That is an order not a request. And use this if you have to,” he said shoving a mean looking knife into her hands.
He was no longer jesting and his command was serious. Her safety depended on her following his order and staying put. He had to trust her as much as she did him.
Nic gracefully swung up onto Demon’s back, the beast protesting to the added weight of the unfamiliar rider. As Demon settled, bowing to the superior rider, Nic paused to give Morgan an opportunity to protest. Instead, she awarded him with a single nod of consent and a small uncertain wave of good bye. Wheeling Demon around without a backward glimpse, he headed back to the main road and into the late morning sun.
Chapter 13
“Blast it all! What is taking that man so long?” Morgan wondered aloud.
She could have bartered a dozen horses, secured all the necessary supplies to support a yearlong siege, and baked bread in the time it was taking him.
Morgan was growing restless.
Not always a good thing, she thought. Her apprehension was a big part of that restlessness.
She was alone, but that did not bother her. It was a natural state. Yet, somehow this time it felt different, and she was growing concerned for Nic's safety. It never occurred to her that she was in any danger.
Nic's company was not so bad now that she was beginning to become accustom to him. As long as she kept her distance thinking of him as protection, she was in truth very comfortable. Only when she thought of him as a man did her uneasiness resurface, and that was not because she felt he would abuse her. She was his responsibility, and she knew he would take that responsibility seriously.
They had ridden in silence talking little. Well, she was supposed to be mute after all and he was a man of few words, and even fewer words spoken about him. She knew that he was extremely confident in whom he was as a man and soldier. That being the case, he probably did not feel the need to secure her approval. She was his squire and even if he treated her with respect, she was still no one of importance in standing of his rank.
Most everything Morgan knew of Nic was what he had shared the first day. He was from the far north, and she would have picked that up from his accent. His burr was unmistakably a bastardized mix of Scotland, Ireland, and the King's English. He told her he was heading north after he finished taking care of some business at Seabridge. That corresponded with his accent. She knew it was
nasty business,
but obviously, it was not urgent business or currently they would not be heading back to London.
She knew he was King Henry’s knight and in high standing. No doubts there.
"That's obvious," she said to Trojan.
Morgan watched him practice the previous day prior to turning in for the evening. With his fighting skill, she could see him being high on the king’s list of favorites. With his dark, good looks, it would not surprise her if he were a top favorite of the ladies, too. He was one of the most devastatingly handsome men she had ever seen, which was even more reason for her to keep her distance. Her survival instincts were telling her to stay close enough for the protection that he was offering, but preserve enough distance between them to never touch.
Coming back to her surrounding and out of her thoughts, Morgan realized she could not see the clearing where Nic had left her with clear instructions to stay put. Thank heavens she had brought Nic’s prized horse with her.
“Leave me behind, but not his horse.” She made a most undignified sound at her mental musings of Nic and what he could do with his horse. "Although he is beautiful," Morgan said as she patted the beast, lovingly
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