A Knight's Persuasion by Catherine Kean Page B

emotions he’d glimpsed in her eyes. “As you no doubt noticed, she did not seem to recognize me, or even her own name.”
    “The blow to the head.” Kaine sighed. “I have heard of such happening. It may be some time before her memory returns. Days. Weeks.”
    Clenching his jaw, Edouard looked at his men. “We do not have weeks. I want to know what happened to her. I will not rest till I do.” He fixed his gaze upon the rider who’d gone to find the healer’s cottage. “You. Ride ahead to Waddesford Keep. Tell Lord Ferchante I will arrive shortly with Lady de Greyne, who urgently needs to be seen by the healer. I also have matters of estate to discuss with him, as an appointed representative for my father.”
    “Aye, milord.” The man turned his horse and rode away into the crowd.
    Edouard’s gaze settled upon the other two men-at-arms. Tipping his head to the closest one, he said, “You will return to Branton Keep and report to my sire. He should know of these unusual circumstances, as should Lord de Greyne.”
    The man nodded, then rode past them, back toward the village gates.
    Kaine raised his eyebrows. “That leaves only two of us to protect you, Edouard.”
    “Me and Juliana.” Edouard brushed aside a curious tingle of unease; he, Kaine, and his fellow warrior were all capable fighters. “Is that too great a responsibility for you, my friend?”
    Mirth lit Kaine’s gaze before he shrugged. “I will do my very best to protect your wretched arse. And Juliana’s pretty one, of course.”
    How in hellfire did Kaine know Juliana had a pretty arse? Scowling, Edouard spurred his horse forward. “Enough. We ride to Waddesford Keep.”
    ***
    Standing before the trestle table in Waddesford Keep’s sun-washed solar, Veronique swept a rosewater-dampened comb through her tresses, as she did every morning. The ivory comb whispered as it fulfilled the ritual she never neglected. Her perfumed, vibrant red hair, when trailed over eager, naked male flesh, had seduced many a lover. Including Landon.
    A gloating smile edged up the corner of her mouth. Last evening, despite his reluctance, she’d not only wrested sweaty, gasping control of his body, but after fornicating, he’d fallen asleep in her arms.
    Landon needed her. His emotions were hers to manipulate as she desired. That was most satisfying of all. If all went as she planned today, she’d finally have possession of the ring he’d been awarded for his trust and loyalty by Geoffrey de Lanceau.
    A ring that, slipped onto her son’s finger, would let Tye into his lordship’s most trusted elite. Her grin broadened. What a perfect moment for Tye to run Geoffrey through with his sword. To at last destroy the Great Lord of Moydenshire.
    “Oh, Geoffrey,” she murmured, “if only you knew what lay ahead.” For long, long years she’d waited to crush him—the one man, in all her life, who’d cast her aside. She’d never met a man as strong willed as Geoffrey, until she’d birthed Tye. At last, Fate was leading her to triumph. With a throaty laugh, she smoothed a hand over her breasts, then down the front of her green silk gown to her belly, where lusty tremors clenched her womb.
    Just as her hand eased lower, footfalls sounded in the corridor outside. She recognized that gait; Landon walked like a plodding ox. She ran her comb through her hair one last time and, as the chamber door creaked open, faced him, resting her hip against the table to accentuate her body’s curves.
    “Landon,” she cooed, before realizing another person approached as well.
    Tye.
    Determination blazed in his eyes as he strode in after his lordship, his shoulder-length brown hair tied back from his face with a leather thong and a sword belt buckled over his light gray tunic and black hose.
    Naughty boy. Tye hadn’t even asked permission to enter the solar. Later, she’d warn him not to repeat that mistake. But right now—
    “A rider arrived at the gates moments ago,”