Always by Lynsay Sands

its mane soothingly. Mayhap they could risk another night out in the open. The horse had been a gift, after all, he thought. His bride now turned her attention to Robert’s mount, apparently to give it some attention, too.
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    Rosamunde shifted to a more comfortable position and sighed. It was several hours since they had stopped forthe nooning meal. It seemed like forever that they had been traveling. Rosamunde had never been so bored in her life. It had been interesting at first, she supposed. The excitement of new experience, the beauty of the scenery and so on…but it had not enthralled her for long. Besides, Rosamunde was not used to being silent for such an extended period. The only time silence had been required at the abbey was during meals, and then there had been amusing little hand gestures that they had used to communicate.
    Sighing, she glanced surreptitiously up at her husband’s face from beneath her eyelashes. He sat stiff and straight-shouldered in the saddle, his eyes alert and flying over the terrain they passed, his face grim and serious. Neither he nor his friend, Robert, had exchanged a word since setting out upon this journey, except for their brief conversation when they had stopped to eat. And Rosamunde, too, had been equally silent. Mostly because, should she try to speak, she was likely to bite her own tongue off at this pace they were riding. Probably that was why the men were so silent as well. At least she hoped that was why. She did not wish to believe her husband was always so taciturn.
    Husband. She marveled at the title that now belonged to the stranger in whose arms she rode. A stranger who had many rights and privileges over her. Her husband. She had never thought to have one. Never even considered the possibility. Dear Lord. Her life had certainly taken a different path than she had expected. She pondered that rather dazedly and was still doing so when they stopped for the night some time later. It kept her quiet as she was lowered to the ground so that her husband could dismount.
    Without waiting to see what he would do, Rosamunde immediately moved to attend to her horse, automatically going through the grooming functions that were necessary even as the men began to tend to their own beasts.She had removed the mare’s saddle and begun brushing her horse down when she noticed how skittish Robert’s horse was.
    Appearing distracted, the man continued to wipe down the beast, then left it to graze, moving off to begin gathering wood for a fire. Aric finished with his own mount and went to help in making the preparations for the night ahead. But Rosamunde was working much more slowly, her attention divided between her task and Robert’s horse. The steed was not eating, though he should have been hungry.
    Recalling her concern that the horse might have been favoring a leg earlier, Rosamunde finished with Marigold and moved to the other horse’s side, soothing the creature with gentle words as she began to examine him.
    â€œIs something amiss, my lady?”
    Rosamunde paused at that curious question from Robert as he approached. He had stacked the firewood in the center of the spot they had chosen, but had not set it afire yet. There were still a few last dying rays of light left, and, as she had learned that morning, it was not safe to have a fire until darkness arrived. That helped hide the smoke it gave off.
    â€œAye,” Rosamunde murmured grimly, straightening from examining the horse’s hind legs. “This horse is ill. He has the lockjaw, I think.”
    Frowning, Robert peered at the animal, then raised a hand toward the beast’s snout, his eyebrows rising when the horse immediately shook its head nervously and took a step back. Rosamunde tugged gently on the reins she held and murmured soothingly, caressing its powerful shoulders. She had been prepared for that reaction. It was the same one she had received on examining him.
    â€œI think