The Viking Takes a Knight by Sandra Hill Page A

that he cannot, or would not, have any children. In fact, she saw Ubbi’s charges as just another piece of the puzzle that was John of Hawk’s Lair. The only question was why.
    Finally, she was free to pursue the rogue. She knew from observation that John usually worked on the exercise fields with his men in the morning…sword practice, archery, lance throwing. In the afternoons, he worked in his honey shed, researching the properties of honey and treating some of his cotters with honey treatments for various ailments.
    As the first part of her temptation plan, Ingrith altered a gown she’d owned for years. It was crimson, in a wool so soft it appeared to have a nap, like a kitten. It was modest in style, with a rounded neck, long sleeves and hem, but because of the material, it clung to her body’s curves. No apron today, that was for sure.
    When she got to the honey shed, she steppedinside, but then stood near the open door against the wall. At the far side, there were several people lined up for their master’s help.
    The first was a young girl who had her gunna raised to her knees. She seemed to have an angry rash on her lower legs that had become irritated. The skin was red and raw in places.
    â€œThis is a mixture of honey and vinegar and several other ingredients that forms a paste,” John was explaining as he applied the ointment to her legs. “It should relieve the pain and begin the healing process, but you must not scratch. If you do, it makes the rash worse and it will spread, as well.”
    The girl sighed with relief when John finished, patting her on the head as he handed her an oiled parchment cone filled with the cream.
    â€œMe mother said ta tell you she’ll send some turnips from our garden in payment.”
    â€œGood. I can never have enough turnips,” John replied, barely hiding a grimace. Ingrith suspected that he had no taste for the neeps , in any form. That and cabbage and spinach.
    Next up was a woman holding a coughing infant. “Ah, little one, what is the matter?” John took the baby into the cradle of one elbow, while using his free hand to peel back the blanket and swaddling clothes.
    â€œHerbert has been coughin’ like this fer days,” said his mother, with tears in her exhausted eyes.
    â€œYou should have come sooner, Mary. Now, Herbie, let us see what the problem is.” Using a fingertip dipped in honey, to make his intrusion more palatable, he examined the child’s mouth and throat. Soon, he was handing the mother a honey-and-cherry-bark syrup to alleviate the cough. “’Twould not hurt to put a little mead on your nipple when you nurse the mite, as well. The child will sleep more restfully.”
    Mary gifted him a handwoven wool horse blanket.
    Three more people were served by John and his “healing” arts while Ingrith waited. His payment for these services was a jug of Frankish wine, several ells of the transparent cloth he used in his beekeeping, and a kiss on the cheek by a nubile dairy maid with promise of more if he was interested, which he did not seem to be.
    Ingrith could not help but be impressed with his knowledge and compassion. If she was not already half in love with the man, she would be now.
    Finally, he was done and exhaling with relief. That was when he noticed her standing there.
    â€œOh, nay! Not you! Again!”
    Not very encouraging to her plan.
    â€œAre you stalking me?”
    â€œCan a lady not seek out a man to talk?”
    â€œNay, nay, nay! No more of your kind of talking. The last time you ‘talked’ to me, you askedme…well, suffice it to say it took me a long time to recover.”
    Good! I must affect him, after all. With a smile, she stepped closer. Come here, fly. Let me show you my spiderweb.
    His gaze swept her body, taking in the clingy material. She could feel her nipples peak at his perusal and wondered if he could tell.
    His survey snagged when