Knight Protector (Knight Chronicles) by Rue Allyn Page A

them together behind his head. “You are right to be wary,
muirnean
, but I promise you will be safe from harm.”
    Did he think she should consider him safe after last night’s argument? He was up to something, but what?
    “Please, we’ll do naught but talk of Sir MacClaren’s report and his explanations about the pilfered supplies and tools.”
    Colin’s eyes gleamed, and his smile broadened as he watched her, but he made nae further remark.
    Determined to be master of her own desires and nae allow him to influence her choices, she sat gingerly by his side.
    “The man claims that the cook is becoming absentminded as she grows old. The missing mortar and pestle were lent to Father Cuthbert, who had need of them to grind incense more finely. Sir MacClaren says our cook was told and agreed to allow the priest to have the tools. I know from personal experience, he is wrong about the cook’s memory. ’Tis clear he’s hiding something.”
    Colin nodded. “Nae doubt. I want you to speak with the English priest. If his story matches Sir MacClaren’s, we’ll know Father Cuthbert is part of whatever our chamberlain is up to.”
    He shifted in the bed, and she slid closer, their sides touching. Her belly fluttered, panicky anticipation skittered beneath her skin, and her heart raced. His arm settled around her shoulders. Her heartbeat slowed, and her anticipation subsided though it didna dissipate completely. She could do this—be close to him and nae become mindless with lust. She focused on the subject at hand.
    “Why do you no wish the priest called here, so you may speak with him?”
    “Since Brice opposed our father’s second marriage, ’tis unlikely Father Cuthbert would reveal much. He is, after all, my stepmother’s creature. She could very well be the mastermind behind this.”
    Sorcha shook her head. “While she may be guilty of trying to murder Brice and took the herbs, mortar and pestle to do so, she hasna the patience a spy would need. In addition, she has a child who could be used to control her. All we need do is threaten Henry, and if she is any sort of mother, she’ll confess everything.”
    “If there is aught to confess. However, I am nae certain she has enough motherly feeling to crack under a threat to Henry.”
    Sorcha caught Colin’s gaze and nodded. “You couldna endanger that child any more than I, could you?”
    Colin sighed. “Nae, but I’d have nae trouble letting Lady Agnes believe her son in danger if I thought it would help us find the traitors or the letters.”
    Sorcha looked forward once more then leaned back to find Colin’s muscled shoulder at her back. Her head slid naturally into the crook of his neck. “So we are agreed that Lady Agnes is an unlikely spy?”
    “Perhaps,” mused Colin. “But we canna afford to discount anyone without solid evidence to the contrary. Naught she has said or done during our brief visits indicates one way or the other. Mayhap I should speak with her again when you talk with Father Cuthbert, so they canna confer. She may well be more forthcoming when you are absent.”
    “True.”
    His hand stroked gentle circles at her shoulder joint. She should shrug off his touch, but the caress soothed some of the tension caused by talk of spies and murder.
    “Now tell me, what other conclusions you draw about our chamberlain and his report?”
    “He seemed more aloof than usual.”
    “Perhaps nervousness at an interview with a new master exaggerated his normal manner.” Colin’s tone was low and easy.
    She remembered that tone from years ago when Colin would croon comfort to a skittish horse or a nervous hound. She was nae horse or dog, but with his big body so close, she couldna suppress the ache of longing in her belly or the twinge of anticipation in her breasts. She gamely ignored the distracting sensations and continued the discussion.
    “Perhaps. Or mayhap he was hiding something more than simple knowledge over missing kitchen supplies.