widespread fingers.
“And have you any of your teeth loose yet?”
Gwen straightened up. “I don’t know. Do I?” With one chubby finger she waggled one of her lower teeth.
“I can yank one out for you,” Gavin called from his spot on the floor. “With only a bit of string—”
“No!” Gwen clapped her hands over her mouth.
Rhonwen patted the child’s knee. “You mustn’t worry
about him. Like you, I also have a brother, and I’ve found they’re never as mean as they pretend to be.”
“But your brother is younger than you,” Jasper put in. “Gwynnie and I know what it’s like to have older brothers, and you may trust me in this: They can be unruly devils. But I’ll protect you, Gwynnie. Come, sweetheart.” He opened his arms to her. “You look ready for a nap.”
“No. I don’t want a nap.”
“I’ll give you a ride on my shoulders,” he said, cocking his head and arching one dark brow.
A ride on his shoulders? Despite herself, Rhonwen was fascinated by the interplay between the little girl and Jasper, and she watched as Gwen slid down from Nesta’s lap and climbed into his. He put her on his shoulders, but when he stood to take her up to the nursery, she reached out to Rhonwen. “You come too,” she ordered. “You can tell me a story.”
“I can tell you a story,” Isolde offered, coming to stand beside Jasper.
“I know all your stories,” the younger child said. “I want a new one.”
“Isolde, you stay here and visit with Nesta,” Josselyn put in. “Let Rhonwen go up with Gwen this time.”
And with Jasper .
Rhonwen heard the unsaid words and her flesh prickled at the prospect. Jasper said nothing, but his dark-lashed eyes managed nonetheless to transmit a message all their own.
Come upstairs with me, if you dare. Be alone with me, if only for a few, brief minutes. What have you to fear?
What indeed? Rhonwen did not want to think about that. Instead she bravely answered his challenge. “I believe I do know a story or two.”
The walls of Rosecliffe Castle were so thick that as they ascended the main curving stairs, the sounds of the great hall were quickly muffled. Though unnerved by Jasper’s nearness, Rhonwen managed to keep her wits well enough to observe her surroundings.
On the second floor an open balcony looked down on the hall. A door standing ajar revealed a sleeping chamber with a
massive curtained bed. The master’s chamber, Rhonwen assumed. The third level held three smaller chambers, one of them a nursery, and it was there Jasper headed. The stairs led farther, to another level above them—probably the roof or a wall walk. There were arrow slits and narrow shuttered windows at each level, but that could be observed from the outside too.
She committed everything to memory, though she wasn’t certain how helpful it would be. Then Gwen giggled and Rhonwen returned to the situation at hand.
Jasper sat Gwen upon a bed covered with a soft green woven blanket and a pair of plump pillows. Goose down. What a luxury, Rhonwen thought while the child removed her shoes. There were pegs on the wall holding fresh clothing, and a corner cupboard as well. Then Rhonwen felt Jasper’s steady gaze upon her and her eyes returned warily to him.
“She likes stories of dragons,” he said, studying her with undisguised warmth.
“So did I when I was younger.”
“And princesses. I like princesses too,” Gwen cried.
Grateful for the distraction, Rhonwen tore her gaze from Jasper’s compelling eyes. “Dragons and princesses. Let me think. Do I know such a story? Oh, I believe I do.” She smiled and sat down, then pulled then soft blanket over the child. “Once, long ago, in a faraway kingdom alongside a distant sea …”
Within minutes Gwendolyn was fast asleep. Rhonwen let her voice trail away, then for a long moment just sat there on the bed, gazing upon the child’s innocent face. Rosy cheeks, long fair lashes, and baby curls at her temples. She was so
“And have you any of your teeth loose yet?”
Gwen straightened up. “I don’t know. Do I?” With one chubby finger she waggled one of her lower teeth.
“I can yank one out for you,” Gavin called from his spot on the floor. “With only a bit of string—”
“No!” Gwen clapped her hands over her mouth.
Rhonwen patted the child’s knee. “You mustn’t worry
about him. Like you, I also have a brother, and I’ve found they’re never as mean as they pretend to be.”
“But your brother is younger than you,” Jasper put in. “Gwynnie and I know what it’s like to have older brothers, and you may trust me in this: They can be unruly devils. But I’ll protect you, Gwynnie. Come, sweetheart.” He opened his arms to her. “You look ready for a nap.”
“No. I don’t want a nap.”
“I’ll give you a ride on my shoulders,” he said, cocking his head and arching one dark brow.
A ride on his shoulders? Despite herself, Rhonwen was fascinated by the interplay between the little girl and Jasper, and she watched as Gwen slid down from Nesta’s lap and climbed into his. He put her on his shoulders, but when he stood to take her up to the nursery, she reached out to Rhonwen. “You come too,” she ordered. “You can tell me a story.”
“I can tell you a story,” Isolde offered, coming to stand beside Jasper.
“I know all your stories,” the younger child said. “I want a new one.”
“Isolde, you stay here and visit with Nesta,” Josselyn put in. “Let Rhonwen go up with Gwen this time.”
And with Jasper .
Rhonwen heard the unsaid words and her flesh prickled at the prospect. Jasper said nothing, but his dark-lashed eyes managed nonetheless to transmit a message all their own.
Come upstairs with me, if you dare. Be alone with me, if only for a few, brief minutes. What have you to fear?
What indeed? Rhonwen did not want to think about that. Instead she bravely answered his challenge. “I believe I do know a story or two.”
The walls of Rosecliffe Castle were so thick that as they ascended the main curving stairs, the sounds of the great hall were quickly muffled. Though unnerved by Jasper’s nearness, Rhonwen managed to keep her wits well enough to observe her surroundings.
On the second floor an open balcony looked down on the hall. A door standing ajar revealed a sleeping chamber with a
massive curtained bed. The master’s chamber, Rhonwen assumed. The third level held three smaller chambers, one of them a nursery, and it was there Jasper headed. The stairs led farther, to another level above them—probably the roof or a wall walk. There were arrow slits and narrow shuttered windows at each level, but that could be observed from the outside too.
She committed everything to memory, though she wasn’t certain how helpful it would be. Then Gwen giggled and Rhonwen returned to the situation at hand.
Jasper sat Gwen upon a bed covered with a soft green woven blanket and a pair of plump pillows. Goose down. What a luxury, Rhonwen thought while the child removed her shoes. There were pegs on the wall holding fresh clothing, and a corner cupboard as well. Then Rhonwen felt Jasper’s steady gaze upon her and her eyes returned warily to him.
“She likes stories of dragons,” he said, studying her with undisguised warmth.
“So did I when I was younger.”
“And princesses. I like princesses too,” Gwen cried.
Grateful for the distraction, Rhonwen tore her gaze from Jasper’s compelling eyes. “Dragons and princesses. Let me think. Do I know such a story? Oh, I believe I do.” She smiled and sat down, then pulled then soft blanket over the child. “Once, long ago, in a faraway kingdom alongside a distant sea …”
Within minutes Gwendolyn was fast asleep. Rhonwen let her voice trail away, then for a long moment just sat there on the bed, gazing upon the child’s innocent face. Rosy cheeks, long fair lashes, and baby curls at her temples. She was so
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