Taming Her Irish Warrior. Michelle Willingham. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Michelle Willingham
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современная зарубежная литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408935491
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with her.

      But he hadn’t. He’d been kind enough, but most times he’d tried to avoid her. Looking back, she understood the reason. It was difficult for any man to love a woman who had attempted to skewer him with a sword.

      ‘Friends,’ she repeated. ‘I suppose there’s no harm in it.’ She offered him her hand, as though it meant nothing. But the light grip of his hand upon hers sent a wild heat blazing through her. ‘As your friend, I’ll warn you not to do anything foolish again, like you did tonight.’

      The corner of his mouth turned up. ‘Why would you say that?’

      Tilting her head, she remarked, ‘Fighting a man when you’ve been bleeding for hours, Ewan? Now was that wise?’

      ‘I won, didn’t I?’

      She shook her head. ‘I had to sew you up again afterwards.’

      He sent her his most charming smile and released her hand. ‘Just a scratch, Honora.’ Turning serious, he changed the subject. ‘Did you ever learn anything more about your thief?’

      ‘No. Nothing.’

      ‘Most of the men speak of Katherine or their own estates. I’ve heard not a single mention of the chest. But at least it was recovered.’

      ‘It isn’t only the chest,’ she admitted. ‘A cross and a chalice were also stolen.’

      ‘And were they found?’

      She shook her head. ‘Not yet. But that isn’t what bothers me most. Neither were valuable. They were made of wood, not silver. I can’t understand why anyone would want them.’

      ‘I don’t know. But I’ll try to find out anything I can.’ Ewan raised his bandaged arm. ‘I owe you for this.’

      ‘It was no trouble.’ Honora forced herself to walk calmly to the door, bidding him goodnight, when what she’d really wanted to do was flee back to her room, hiding her burning cheeks beneath the coverlet.

      Friends, he’d said. She didn’t know how that would ever be possible.

      Ewan waited near the stables, the mid-morning sun casting beams amid the clouds. His brother Bevan had left at dawn to visit with his father-in-law, the Earl of Longford. No doubt the Earl would pressure Bevan to return to Erin, to be at Genevieve’s side for the new birth. Ewan hoped he could convince Katherine to wed him sooner and thereby grant Bevan his wish.

      In the meantime, he’d been given a chance to spend time with Katherine. None of the other suitors had done so, to his knowledge, and it boded well for his chances of winning her hand.

      Katherine had done her best to tend his wounds last night, though she couldn’t have endured sewing up the gash, the way her sister had. Honora didn’t cringe at the sight of blood or injuries, having sewn up a fair number of them over the years. He could easily see her doing the same for half-a-dozen sons, were she fortunate to bear children.

      The thought pricked him. Honora didn’t want to wed, and though he suspected part of it was her reluctance to let a man hold dominion over her, he sensed a shadow from her former marriage. Something had happened, something she would never admit. It bothered him, to think of Honora falling victim to a man, even her husband.

      At that moment, Katherine arrived. Her emerald bliaud contrasted against her fair skin and white veil, making her blue eyes appear more vivid.

      ‘Ewan,’ she greeted him with a smile. Behind her stood Honora, holding a basket. He recalled that Katherine had asked her to accompany them. Once again, Honora appeared desperately uncomfortable, and Ewan hardly blamed her.

      ‘I hope you are feeling better after yesterday,’ Katherine continued. She drew closer, studying the cut upon his lip.

      In truth, his arm still ached, but Ewan said nothing about it. ‘I am, yes.’

      ‘Good. Then let us ride out. I am weary of these walls.’

      Within a few minutes, they were mounted and travelling outside the castle gates. Katherine led the way, while Ewan followed. Honora remained behind at first, but a few moments later, she brought her horse alongside his. She wore a serviceable grey bliaud, her hair hidden by a veil. Only a slim golden girdle around her waist gave any colour. Ill at ease, she offered, ‘I tried to convince her to go alone.’

      Her comment was an apology, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. He shrugged. ‘There are worse places to be than in the company of two beautiful women.’

      ‘I am not beautiful, and both of us know it. Don’t mock me.’ The words were spoken calmly, not in anger, but by a woman who believed them. Urging her horse forward, Honora joined her sister.

      Not beautiful? Did she truly think that? No, she didn’t have the soft beauty of her sister. But the wildness of her and the shorn hair gave Honora an exotic appearance, one that most men did not perceive from the veil she wore.

      She had changed, more than he’d realised. Though Honora had always had an intensity to her demeanour, fighting hard and arguing harder, never had he said anything against her looks. Who had convinced her that she was unattractive? Her husband? If that were true, then it was a good thing the bastard was dead.

      Katherine drew her mare to a stop near an open clearing. Honora joined her and took the two horses to let them graze. In the distance, shadowed mountains stretched up, covered with green trees. Grey skies dotted with heavy clouds foretold an afternoon rain.

      Ewan dismounted, and Honora took the animal from him without asking. By tending the horses, she avoided both of them, giving him and Katherine time to speak alone.

      Katherine chose a large rock to sit upon, green grass spearing up amid the dead growth from last winter. Honora remained closer to the hillside, and she rubbed one of the horses down while studying their surroundings. The wind blew against her veil, revealing a hint of dark hair against her slender neck.

      She looked pensive, worry creasing her face. He didn’t know what troubled her, but he suspected it was more than the thief. Her reluctance to confide in him made it seem far worse.

      She lifted her eyes to his, and he tried to reassure her without words. Shaking her head, Honora turned away in silent rebuke.

      She was right. He had no business interfering in her life, and it wasn’t any of his concern.

      ‘Ewan, could you help me with this?’

      Katherine struggled to lift down a basket of food. His stomach was raging, though it was not nearly time for a meal. He offered a friendly smile and asked, ‘What did you bring with you?’

      ‘I thought we could enjoy our noon meal out of doors.’

      Praise be to the saints. Ewan sent her a hopeful look. ‘Must we truly wait that long?’

      ‘Not if you are hungry now.’ A laugh escaped her, and she opened the basket. While he helped himself to a cold leg of roasted chicken, Honora was still lagging behind.

      ‘Are you going to join us?’ he asked.

      ‘What?’ Honora glanced up and saw the food. ‘No, I’m not hungry.’

      He sat with Katherine, wondering what to say to her. This was his first opportunity to demonstrate that he would be an excellent husband for her. And yet, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say, beyond a simple thanks for the food.

      Katherine stared down at her hands, but she didn’t attempt a conversation either. Honora was walking through the long grasses, her hand shielding her eyes in the sunlight.

      ‘Do you think she’ll marry?’ he asked Katherine, nodding towards her sister. The topic of Honora’s future was a safe one.

      ‘I hope so.’ Katherine studied a piece of cheese as if she intended to hold it, rather than eat it. ‘She deserves to be happy, after what she endured at Ceredys.’

      ‘And what was that?’