Read Online Until the Knight Comes by Sue-Ellen Welfonder - Free Book Online

so that his back shielded her from the wind.
    Hugh Alesone had never shown such thoughtfulness—she’d always been the one to see to
his
comfort.
    Mariota looked at her friend, saw the other woman’s misty-eyed happiness and bit her lip, trying not to put too much weight on one thoughtful gesture.
    Or think too deeply about why her breath caught each time Kenneth MacKenzie turned that deep, dark gaze on her.
    Instead, she swallowed and nudged at the floor rushes. “Leaving me alone here will avail nothing—if you believe your absence will hasten matters I have no interest in pursuing,” she said, the tingling weightiness in her belly making a mockery of her words.
    The sudden spill of warmth in her heart scaring her.
    She ignored the sensations, lifted her chin. “Sir Kenneth is as desirous of keeping to himself as I am. He told me so.”
    Nessa shot her an amused glance. “Did he now?”
    “You know he did.” Mariota fussed at her skirts, avoiding her friend’s eye. “He made quite clear he was not pleased to find us here. In especial, me . . . posing as lady of this keep!”
    “That was a surprise, to be sure,” Nessa allowed. “But I’ve seen how he watches you, the ravenous look in his eyes.” She tilted her head. “He is a lusty man, I’ll wager. And, I am thinking, too long without a woman’s attentions.”
    Mariota looked away. “There are worse things.”
    “He’d make a fine bedmate, I say you,” Nessa decided. “Perhaps it would benefit you both to slake a mutual thirst? Pure need sated. No other . . .
concerns
between you?”
    Mariota opened her mouth and shut it as quickly.
    A fine bedmate.
    Sated need.
    “You’ve lost your wits.” She stared at the other woman. “Is your memory so short? Have you forgotten all that happened at Drumodyn? Why we are even here?”
    “It is Drumodyn that moves me. And should move you!” Nessa shot back. “O-o-oh, my lady, I do not think you know what is good for you.”
    “I know what is good for landed knights, newly come to their holdings.” Mariota blew a wisp of hair off her brow. “Heed my words—Sir Kenneth will soon claim the comforts of his bedchamber. Think you he will be content sleeping below, on a pallet, when his bed and all its trappings stand waiting in this room?”
    Nessa shrugged, the mischief in her eye answer enough.
    Disregarding her, Mariota huffed and turned away . . . and almost tripped over Cuillin, the ancient hound claimed by the strapping young knight, Jamie the Small.
    “So you’ve found your way in here, too, have you, laddie?” She reached down to tousle the dog’s ears and when she straightened, Nessa was gone.
    No doubt into the arms of her knightly lover.
    Wishing she could pursue her desires as easily, Mariota stepped into the nearest window embrasure and let the chill air cool her cheeks. She stared into the streaming rain, drew a deep breath. To be sure, she understood her friend’s . . . need.
    Her passion.
    Hers
was another matter.
    A danger to be squelched before it could bloom.
    She tightened her jaw, determined to do just that, but then
his
scent surrounded her. Clean and invigorating, its freshness swept away memories, claiming its own place and filling her with hope.
    Hope and moon-slanted shadows, the wet gleam of night-darkened stone.
    Recognizing her mistake, she shivered and clutched the cold damp of the window ledge.
    His scent hadn’t beguiled her at all. It was just the wind gusting past the tower.
    Her senses had fooled her.
    Disappointed her.
    And they continued to mock her when she turned back to the room, for the only scents greeting her were the smoky bite of melted candle wax and the pungent odor of sleeping dog.
    Sleeping, old dog.
    And looking at him, his stiff legs stretched straight out before him, his fluting snores loud in the silence, her heart dipped and an almost-smile touched her lips.
    In a long ago time, she would have smiled even more, found at least some humor in her