reminding herself that after Monday she’d be returning to her real life and leaving all of this behind her forever.
Laughter erupted from the main table. Well, Reynald was obviously enjoying himself enough for both of them . So much for his desperate search for the truth and Amy being his chosen companion. It seemed he had plenty of time after all, or maybe that was because he was sitting next to Terri Kirkby.
Abruptly, Amy stood up. “You know, I’m not very good company,” she said to Jez. “If Nicco comes looking for me, tell him I’ll definitely see him later.”
Jez eyed her quizzically. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“What could be wrong?” she retorted, and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “Be good.”
She skirted through the tables and chairs, feeling like the only one on the Welsh borders who wasn’t having a good time. A black cloud on a sunny day, that was her. She’d reached the door when a hand closed on her arm and stopped her dead. Nicco? But her prickle of awareness told her it wasn’t. With a sense of the inevitable, Amy turned to face her captor.
“Hey, Rey,” she said, as if she wasn’t in the least disturbed by his sudden appearance. “Bored already?”
There was a gleam in his eyes. Sitting beside Terri Kirkby for a couple of hours probably did that to a man.
“I need to speak with you.”
“I really don’t feel like talking. Can we do it later?”
“I want to tell you about—”
“Why don’t you tell Terri? She’s probably dying to hear all about whatever it is.”
Oh God, why had she said that? She could have bitten her tongue off. It made it so obvious. Nervously, she watched his puzzled frown, as he tried to read her. And then his gaze sharpened. He glanced back at Terri, and he smiled at Amy. Color ran into her cheeks.
“You are jealous,” he said.
“Why on earth should I be?” She turned and walked away.
He followed. “You did not like me sitting with Terri. It made you jealous.” He seemed so pleased about it, and she felt so embarrassed, that she just couldn’t bear it.
Amy put on her most world-weary tone. “Rey, I agree that you’re a good-looking bloke, but I’m not looking for a relationship just now. I’m more interested in sorting out my own life than ironing some guy’s shirts.”
He wasn’t fooled. He laughed softly, deep in his throat. It made her stomach drop away.
“Amy, you are my companion. I need you to help me right my wrong, to redeem myself. You and no one else. Already, you have done much, and I am grateful to you. You must believe that. I am not looking for a bedmate, and if I was, I would not offer you insult by asking such a thing of you.”
“Rey, flattered as I am by your sweet talk, there’s something you should know.” She hesitated. He was looking down at her as if she was the angel of goodness. Suddenly she couldn’t bear to spoil it, not just yet. “I’m not what you think,” she ended lamely.
He smiled as if he didn’t believe her, but didn’t press the matter. “I wanted to tell you about the painting,” he said. “The battle between my people and the Welsh. It is wrong.”
Amy was confused. “Why is it wrong?”
“Look.” He tugged her by the arm he still held, until she was underneath the section of the painting he seemed interested in. He pointed excitedly up at the ceiling, and because he was so agitated, Amy let him say what was on his mind. “You can see fighting, a great battle.”
“Yes, I can see fighting. Oops, there’s an arm…and a head.”
He frowned at her levity. “What you are seeing is something that didn’t really happen, damsel.”
“There was no battle?”
“No. The dragon came. It was the dragon, Amy!”
Amy stared at him, amazement warring with skepticism. She couldn’t help it. What he was saying was completely ridiculous. Or maybe she’d reached her gullibility limit.
“So you’re telling me that there was a real-live dragon there that day?
Laughter erupted from the main table. Well, Reynald was obviously enjoying himself enough for both of them . So much for his desperate search for the truth and Amy being his chosen companion. It seemed he had plenty of time after all, or maybe that was because he was sitting next to Terri Kirkby.
Abruptly, Amy stood up. “You know, I’m not very good company,” she said to Jez. “If Nicco comes looking for me, tell him I’ll definitely see him later.”
Jez eyed her quizzically. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“What could be wrong?” she retorted, and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “Be good.”
She skirted through the tables and chairs, feeling like the only one on the Welsh borders who wasn’t having a good time. A black cloud on a sunny day, that was her. She’d reached the door when a hand closed on her arm and stopped her dead. Nicco? But her prickle of awareness told her it wasn’t. With a sense of the inevitable, Amy turned to face her captor.
“Hey, Rey,” she said, as if she wasn’t in the least disturbed by his sudden appearance. “Bored already?”
There was a gleam in his eyes. Sitting beside Terri Kirkby for a couple of hours probably did that to a man.
“I need to speak with you.”
“I really don’t feel like talking. Can we do it later?”
“I want to tell you about—”
“Why don’t you tell Terri? She’s probably dying to hear all about whatever it is.”
Oh God, why had she said that? She could have bitten her tongue off. It made it so obvious. Nervously, she watched his puzzled frown, as he tried to read her. And then his gaze sharpened. He glanced back at Terri, and he smiled at Amy. Color ran into her cheeks.
“You are jealous,” he said.
“Why on earth should I be?” She turned and walked away.
He followed. “You did not like me sitting with Terri. It made you jealous.” He seemed so pleased about it, and she felt so embarrassed, that she just couldn’t bear it.
Amy put on her most world-weary tone. “Rey, I agree that you’re a good-looking bloke, but I’m not looking for a relationship just now. I’m more interested in sorting out my own life than ironing some guy’s shirts.”
He wasn’t fooled. He laughed softly, deep in his throat. It made her stomach drop away.
“Amy, you are my companion. I need you to help me right my wrong, to redeem myself. You and no one else. Already, you have done much, and I am grateful to you. You must believe that. I am not looking for a bedmate, and if I was, I would not offer you insult by asking such a thing of you.”
“Rey, flattered as I am by your sweet talk, there’s something you should know.” She hesitated. He was looking down at her as if she was the angel of goodness. Suddenly she couldn’t bear to spoil it, not just yet. “I’m not what you think,” she ended lamely.
He smiled as if he didn’t believe her, but didn’t press the matter. “I wanted to tell you about the painting,” he said. “The battle between my people and the Welsh. It is wrong.”
Amy was confused. “Why is it wrong?”
“Look.” He tugged her by the arm he still held, until she was underneath the section of the painting he seemed interested in. He pointed excitedly up at the ceiling, and because he was so agitated, Amy let him say what was on his mind. “You can see fighting, a great battle.”
“Yes, I can see fighting. Oops, there’s an arm…and a head.”
He frowned at her levity. “What you are seeing is something that didn’t really happen, damsel.”
“There was no battle?”
“No. The dragon came. It was the dragon, Amy!”
Amy stared at him, amazement warring with skepticism. She couldn’t help it. What he was saying was completely ridiculous. Or maybe she’d reached her gullibility limit.
“So you’re telling me that there was a real-live dragon there that day?
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