Silverhawk by Barbara Bettis Page B

refused to jeopardize her chance. No matter how exciting this stranger, she would no more run away with him than she would stand naked in the bailey. Yet he held her still, as if he thought she would change her mind. What would convince him?
    She went limp. His grip loosened.
    Emelin jerked free, jumped to her feet, and shoved. Off balance, Giles tumbled from the bench, hit the ground with a soft thump and a curse. She whirled around—and nearly tripped over a young boy.
    “What are you doing here?” She didn’t know where he belonged or how he had materialized, but perhaps he could aid her.
    “I ’eard a noise.” The youth peered wide-eyed as Giles got to his feet. “I thought Silverhawk might need ’elp.”
    Emelin looked between them. She’d find no assistance from this youth.
    Giles’ smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I do need help. Find Sir Henry and tell him I want to talk. In the stables. Now.” The boy disappeared into the darkness.
    The knight swung toward her. She lunged backward and turned. He must not touch her again. Common sense evaporated when she inhaled his scent of spicy musk, and she couldn’t breathe. Then clarity stilled her mind. She stopped. No. He would not frighten her. Hands clutched, she flung around to face him. In mid-turn, blackness swallowed her.
    ****
    Giles caught the lady as she dropped. Out. God’s blood! He’d reached for her just as she lurched, and he’d downed her. Never in his life had he raised a hand to a woman, yet in his arms lay one he’d knocked unconscious. He eased her onto the ground. For all his dismay, the accident proved convenient.
    She wouldn’t have gone willingly, in spite of his attempted seduction. Well, he’d never actually tried to seduce a lady before. Hell, he had no need to. Women came to him. His technique needed practice, it would seem. One side of his mouth lifted.
    He must bind her hands. With what? Only one thing he could think of. His little flame-haired warrior would burn with anger indeed when she discovered his makeshift rope.
    With the dagger stowed at his belt, he cut strips from the bottom of her shift. As gently as he could manage, he secured her hands and feet.
    He’d have to hurry. If she awoke before he returned, he wouldn’t put it past her to roll to the gate. It’s what he’d do if the situation were reversed.
    Damn. Nearly forgot. The last strip went around her mouth. He couldn’t stop a smile; he’d really be in for it now.
    He jogged to the stables and eased a saddle on Nuit. He’d just pulled a blanket from his pack when Henry appeared.
    “What in Hades are you up to?” the other man grumbled, brushing at his rumpled hair. “Couldn’t it wait for morning?”
    “No, it couldn’t.” Giles kept his voice low. He’d rather not wake the stable lads. “I’ve decided to help you after all. I’ll follow this Paxton to Scotland.” He stowed the blanket behind Nuit’s saddle.
    Henry stood feet apart, hands on hips. “Why?” His voice was suspicious. “What made you change your mind?”
    Giles’ voice was dry. “I decided to extend my stay in your friendly land. I need a horse.”
    Before Henry could ask why, Giles added, “And a safe place for a valuable package I’ll deliver later.”
    His respect for Henry grew when the other man silently walked to the other side of the stables and brought back a leggy mare whose dark color blended with the night.
    “I’ll pick up my other pack and be on my way.” Giles took the reins of both horses and headed outside.
    Henry fell in. “I’ll send two men along. The journey will likely be dangerous.”
    “In this kind of campaign, I work better alone.”
    “All right. Follow the main road—”
    “Never mind. I’ll track them, remember?”
    Henry nodded and held out a hand. Giles looked at him a moment before taking it. “If you want to help, have someone open the gate. I’ll see you in Scotland.”
    Giles walked the horses to the Lady’s Garden where Davy