By Queen's Grace by Shari Anton Page A

Corwin didn’t doubt that one of Duncan’s first acts as leader would be to rid the band of its newest member.

Chapter Seven
    J udith helped Corwin with the horses while Oswuld mixed a potion for his father. Duncan hadn’t yet returned from his fishing, and Judith hoped he’d catch several trout. For their evening meal Thurkill wasn’t the only one tired of rabbit and squirrel, and Duncan hadn’t brought back supplies.
    “How bad is Thurkill?” Corwin asked as he removed the saddle from Judith’s mare.
    “He tells me he needs something to eat and a night’s rest, but I fear there is more to his illness than weariness. While we were crossing the river, he might have fallen off the horse had I not held him on.”
    “Oswuld told me his father has a heart ailment.”
    That explained why Thurkill had rubbed at his chest last night. Why he’d spent part of the mad dash to this spot slumped forward and had nearly slid off the saddle while crossing the river. She’d suspected he was in great pain after detecting hawthorn in his potion, though she hadn’t known the pain was in his heart.
    “Does Duncan know?” she asked.
    “I think so. Why?”
    “He pushed us hard,” she said, her ire rising once more. “Neither Thurkill nor I saw any reason to cross theriver-” taxing the horses, getting her skirts wet, soaking
    her boots, which would take forever to dry out “-but Duncan insisted. He believed the more obstacles we placed between us and the sheriff, the better. Was the sheriff behind us?”
    “Aye.” Corwin handed her his blanket. “Rub the mare down with this while I unsaddle the other two.”
    “You sent the sheriff on his way, I suppose.”
    “You knew that was my intent”
    She’d known, but hadn’t uttered a word of protest when Corwin ordered her off her mare and onto Thurkill’s horse. She’d obeyed his command immediately, even knowing if she turned her mare around and bolted toward the oncoming riders, she might be headed toward a safe haven instead of still being held captive.
    True, Thurkill had held the mare’s reins, and he might have not allowed her to escape. But she hadn’t tried.
    The mare leaned into the rubdown, enjoying the scratch of wool against her hide. Judith found a measure of peace in the work.
    Corwin chuckled. “If that mare were a cat, she would purr.”
    Judith smiled at the observation. “She enjoys the pampering. Has she a name?”
    “Likely, but Sedrick did not mention one, and I was in so much of a hurry to get her back to you I did not think to ask.”
    “She is truly a beautiful mare. Mayhap that is what I will call her-Beauty.”
    When Corwin didn’t comment, she looked toward him. He’d unsaddled the other two horses and stood near his destrier, staring at her.
    “Aye,” he said. “A true beauty.”
    His stare intensified, reflecting a raw animal hunger thatsent a warm flush through her body, head to toe. Corwin wasn’t talking about the horse, she knew. Mercy, she was so disheveled she must look like the lowest of wantons. And she felt wanton, purely female, about to be pounced upon by the strongest, most virile of males.
    Judith fought the desire that coiled low and deep. She shouldn’t want Corwin’s attention, or long for the press of another kiss, or wonder if he would caress her again if they were private.
    Of course he would. He would do more than kiss her if she let him, and she very much feared she would let him do whatever he pleased. He’d been the first to arouse her female curiosity about coupling with a man. Her curiosity hadn’t abated, and again she longed for Corwin to show her the ways of the world, what could happen between male and female.
    At the moment, she wanted to be someone other than who she was, Judith Canmore, royal heiress. She longed to be a woman free to play the wanton, use whatever female wiles she might possess to lure the mate she desired to her bed. A mate strong, virile and intelligent-a man possessed of broad