Guardian of Darkness by Kathryn Le Veque

positioned in. His logical mind was thinking one thing but his body was apparently thinking another.  She was warm, soft and wonderful, and his male impulse, even in sleep, had acted naturally. Her face was in his neck, her hot breath against his skin.
    Hating himself, allowing a stolen moment to enjoy the sensation, he tightened his grip and drifted back off to sleep again.
    Carington awoke at dawn to find herself quite alone by the cold vizier.
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    Without a horse, she had been given the choice of riding with Creed or in the wagon.  Because Creed had disappeared before she awoken and when he returned seemed distant and cold, she chose the wagon.  It was not the most comfortable of rides, but it was better than sitting with someone who clearly disliked her.
    The escort moved out at dawn, heading south.  Carington overheard Ryton say that they should arrive by the nooning meal.  With that awareness, her nervousness began to take root.  She had no idea what to expect or what her escorts would tell Lord Richard of her behavior.  She was back to feeling alone, frightened and defiant. She did not even have Bress to bring comfort. Without Creed’s kind support as the only Sassenach who seemed willing to tolerate her, she was retreating into her shell.
    Creed rode slightly behind the wagon, just close enough to keep an eye on her but not close enough so that he had to talk to her. Perched beside the soldier driving the team, Carington ignored him just as he was ignoring her. She was not about to show him just how troubled she really was.  Ryton was up at the head of the column, Stanton and Burle in relatively close proximity to the front of the wagon, but Jory was no where to be found.  As the column rode for one solid hour in silence, then two, the morning around them brightened as the landscape flattened out somewhat.  Carington had never been this far south before and turned her attention to the lands beyond.
    Clad in a soft linen shift and a scarlet surcoat that was striking against her dark coloring, she was enjoying the weak warmth of the sun. Her dusty tartan was folded neatly beside her on the wagon seatl.  Her long, curling dark hair was pulled back away from her face, secured at the back of her head with a butterfly-shaped pin her father had given her and her lips were coated with the Elder flower oil, giving the slightly-pink lips a glossy sheen.  She was unaware that there was not one man in the escort that did not think she was delightful to look at, including and especially Creed.
    Aye, he was riding behind her, but it was mostly for self-protection.  He had been both disappointed and glad when she had chosen to ride in the wagon.   He had never slept so well as he had with her in his arms and the knowledge confused him greatly.  He did not want to be her protector in the first place and was angry at himself for being glad that he was. It was stupid. He was stupid.  As he watched the back of her dark head, lost in thought, he was caught off guard when Jory suddenly rode up beside the wagon.
    The young knight was in fine form that morning, seemingly happier than he had been in a long time.  He flipped up his three-point visor as he focused his unwanted attention on Carington.
    “My lady looks well today,” his black eyes glittered as he spoke to her. “Did you sleep well?”
    Creed could see Carington stiffen, turning to Jory with great contempt in her manner. “Well enough,” she replied in a clipped tone.
    Creed spurred his charger forward, closer to the wagon, as Jory continued. “And your sup,” Jory went on.  “Did you enjoy that as well?”
    She looked at him, wondering why he looked so pleased with himself. She had no idea why the man was even talking to her after two hours of total silence.
    “It was fine,” she said as she turned away from him.
    By this time, Creed was on the opposite side of the wagon, turning up