A Knight of Honor by Laurel O'Donnell

glanced up at her, lowering the leg of lamb to his plate in surprise.   “I thought that was settled.   I thought you were coming with me to Castle Donovan.”
    “I said I’d see.”
    Slane thought of letting her go and traveling back to Castle Donovan alone.   Her mere presence was becoming unsettling.   But he thought of another vow he had made.   One to his brother.   A vow that his honor would not let him break.   “There are other people looking for you.   Even if you left me, you might still end up at the castle.”
    “And I might not.”
    “Are you prepared to live your life like that?   Constantly looking over your shoulder?”
    “I have for eight years.”
    “It should be time you didn’t have to,” Slane said.   “Face your past and put an end to it.”
    “That’s easy for you to say, Slane,” she retorted.   “You don’t have to do it.”
    Slane snorted.   “I did,” he murmured.   “Once.”   He felt her eyes on him, felt a curiosity in her gaze.
    “When you defied your father?   When you became a knight?”
    She was looking down into her mug of ale and it gave Slane an unwanted, but irresistible, chance to study her features.   Her long, long lashes brushed her soft cheek as she glanced at her drink.   Her full, captivating lips were wet with the shining residue of ale.   God’s blood!   There was no denying the beauty in her features.   Had she been dressed in a gown of rich velvet and cradled roses in her arms instead of donning leather armor and strapping a sword to her waist, every man in England would be vying for her attention, for her hand in marriage.   His gaze roamed to her lovely hair, hair as dark as a midnight sky, to the soft, smooth sleekness of her neck, her sun-kissed skin so creamy, so flawless.   He looked away suddenly, realizing with an uncomfortable start that he could watch her do nothing all day and still be mesmerized.   What had they been talking about?   Oh, yes.   His father.   “Yes, it was quite a scandal then,” Slane said.   “Father wanted me to be a priest, a servant of the church.   He already had a knight in my brother Richard.”   He laughed somewhat bitterly, shifting his legs.   “Can you see me as a priest?”
    “No,” Taylor answered honestly.
    Slane was struck by what might very well be the first honest answer she had given him.   “Neither could I,” he admitted.   “So I snuck off to my uncle’s castle.   He secretly trained me and sponsored me.”
    “Your father must have been furious.”
    “Oh, he was more than furious.   Not only did he refuse to speak to my uncle again, but he banned me from my home and threatened to disown me.”
    “You would have been scorned by every knight in the realm, just a wandering warrior without a home,” Taylor said tonelessly.
    “With no honor.”   Slane’s eyes narrowed slightly.   “But Richard convinced Father to change his mind.   He told Father he would leave the castle if I wasn’t allowed to return home with my honor intact.   Father needed an heir, someone responsible, like Richard.   So he agreed.” He chuckled darkly as bitterness crept into his voice.   “But I didn’t return then.   I stayed away from Castle Donovan for years, attending tournaments, fighting wars.”
    “Why didn’t you go home?” Taylor wondered.
    It was Slane’s turn to look into his mug of ale.   “I did,” he replied.   He swirled the liquid around and finally took a long drink.   “Just over a year ago.   I was ready to make amends, to face my future with a clean start.   But Father died shortly before I returned.”
    “I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered.
    Slane shrugged, but he could feel the tension lining his shoulders.   “Richard was lord of Castle Donovan.”   Slane’s eyes narrowed.   It was true Richard had saved his honor, and now held it over his head ever since.
    Taylor smiled, shaking her head.   “That’s not the story I