girls.
“We’ve met.”
“Thank you for saving Radish!” Gemma planted a kiss on de Monteneau’s mud-streaked cheek and Lissa planted a noisier one on the opposite cheek before they both danced away to coddle the rabbit.
De Monteneau looked completely stunned as he stood, touching his jaw as though he’d been struck.
“You did a very heroic thing, my lord.”
He blew a dismissive snort and then looked down the spattered front of his studded-leather hauberk, at the thick coating of mud on his leggings, now beginning to harden like thick plate armor.
A golem, right out of legend. Complete with hands of clay and a face of stone.
Talia touched her mouth with three fingers and bit her tongue, but couldn’t help the little giggle that slipped out, which only brought on a deeper scowl.
“I’m sorry, but you’re very muddy.” She also couldn’t help brushing at the heavy clumps that had spattered across the front of him, couldn’t help admire the hard-muscled feel of his chest when she ought to be sending him on his way, on some fool’s errand. Hopefully Quigley had been warned off from entering the village with his ill-gotten goods by the second set of bells, waiting for the all clear.
“Are you hiding any more sisters from me?”
“No.”
“No brothers tucked away in the brambles, ready to ambush me.”
“If I had a brother, he would be your ward, not me. And we’d all be much happier.”
“Carrisford would belong to him, my dear, and you and I would never have met.”
That made her heart stumble, caught up a breath in her chest. “Truly.”
“However, madam, you and I are inextricably bound at the moment. And to that end, we will finish our tour of the village.”
Talia sighed, hoping he heard boredom and not impatience to be away from him. Not her fear that Quigley hadn’t heard her warning.
Or the very sobering notion that he was so unbalancing, so unlike her other guardians had been.
“It’s just a village, sir; nothing you haven’t seen before. Carrisford is plainer than plain. You have other castles; you must have at least as many villages of your own.”
“I have but one castle—this one.”
“But you’re a baron, de Monteneau. Surely you’ve held castles for the king before mine.”
“I’m a soldier, madam.” He left her for his boots standing against the rock. “I’ve had no time to bother with holdings until now.”
So he was new to this, too. “What’s so specialabout Carrisford? Or did you just suddenly fancy a wardship and mine was available?”
“The tour, madam—” He stopped abruptly and turned toward the sudden burst of shouting.
“My lord! Here, my lord! A message for you!” The clamor came from the same squire who had so irritated de Monteneau earlier. Kyle. He sped along the bayfront, came skidding to a stop directly in front of the scowling golem, and looked him up and down before screwing up his face.
“Whatever happened to you, my lord? You fall off the quay or something?”
“You’ll speak when you’re spoken to, boy. What message now?”
The lad quailed and bowed his head, mumbling, “From Sir Dougal. He wanted you to know that the rest of your caravan has arrived and it seems to have been robbed.”
Oh, great Heaven. Quigley, stay hidden. Please.
“Robbed?” The lighter side of the man vanished as though it had never been, leaving only the warrior.
“Sir Dougal thought you’d want to know.”
Talia felt a chill when de Monteneau shifted his darkly suspicious gaze toward her.
“Indeed.” Then he bellowed suddenly. “Now away, boy!”
Kyle raised a spray of pebbles in his wake.
“Must you be so unkind to Kyle?”
“Excuse me, madam,” he said, slapping off the mud and yanking on his boots. “I’ll have to take that tour later. It seems I’ve a robbery on my hands.”
“Can’t trust your own men?” She could only hope.
He went still, then said deliberately, “That’s just it, my lady. I trust them
“We’ve met.”
“Thank you for saving Radish!” Gemma planted a kiss on de Monteneau’s mud-streaked cheek and Lissa planted a noisier one on the opposite cheek before they both danced away to coddle the rabbit.
De Monteneau looked completely stunned as he stood, touching his jaw as though he’d been struck.
“You did a very heroic thing, my lord.”
He blew a dismissive snort and then looked down the spattered front of his studded-leather hauberk, at the thick coating of mud on his leggings, now beginning to harden like thick plate armor.
A golem, right out of legend. Complete with hands of clay and a face of stone.
Talia touched her mouth with three fingers and bit her tongue, but couldn’t help the little giggle that slipped out, which only brought on a deeper scowl.
“I’m sorry, but you’re very muddy.” She also couldn’t help brushing at the heavy clumps that had spattered across the front of him, couldn’t help admire the hard-muscled feel of his chest when she ought to be sending him on his way, on some fool’s errand. Hopefully Quigley had been warned off from entering the village with his ill-gotten goods by the second set of bells, waiting for the all clear.
“Are you hiding any more sisters from me?”
“No.”
“No brothers tucked away in the brambles, ready to ambush me.”
“If I had a brother, he would be your ward, not me. And we’d all be much happier.”
“Carrisford would belong to him, my dear, and you and I would never have met.”
That made her heart stumble, caught up a breath in her chest. “Truly.”
“However, madam, you and I are inextricably bound at the moment. And to that end, we will finish our tour of the village.”
Talia sighed, hoping he heard boredom and not impatience to be away from him. Not her fear that Quigley hadn’t heard her warning.
Or the very sobering notion that he was so unbalancing, so unlike her other guardians had been.
“It’s just a village, sir; nothing you haven’t seen before. Carrisford is plainer than plain. You have other castles; you must have at least as many villages of your own.”
“I have but one castle—this one.”
“But you’re a baron, de Monteneau. Surely you’ve held castles for the king before mine.”
“I’m a soldier, madam.” He left her for his boots standing against the rock. “I’ve had no time to bother with holdings until now.”
So he was new to this, too. “What’s so specialabout Carrisford? Or did you just suddenly fancy a wardship and mine was available?”
“The tour, madam—” He stopped abruptly and turned toward the sudden burst of shouting.
“My lord! Here, my lord! A message for you!” The clamor came from the same squire who had so irritated de Monteneau earlier. Kyle. He sped along the bayfront, came skidding to a stop directly in front of the scowling golem, and looked him up and down before screwing up his face.
“Whatever happened to you, my lord? You fall off the quay or something?”
“You’ll speak when you’re spoken to, boy. What message now?”
The lad quailed and bowed his head, mumbling, “From Sir Dougal. He wanted you to know that the rest of your caravan has arrived and it seems to have been robbed.”
Oh, great Heaven. Quigley, stay hidden. Please.
“Robbed?” The lighter side of the man vanished as though it had never been, leaving only the warrior.
“Sir Dougal thought you’d want to know.”
Talia felt a chill when de Monteneau shifted his darkly suspicious gaze toward her.
“Indeed.” Then he bellowed suddenly. “Now away, boy!”
Kyle raised a spray of pebbles in his wake.
“Must you be so unkind to Kyle?”
“Excuse me, madam,” he said, slapping off the mud and yanking on his boots. “I’ll have to take that tour later. It seems I’ve a robbery on my hands.”
“Can’t trust your own men?” She could only hope.
He went still, then said deliberately, “That’s just it, my lady. I trust them
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