Page 21 of The Guardian's Witch

His voice was deep and velvet-edged. Her checks flushed, and a chill sped up her spine. She nodded at his compliment. Her mother had specifically chosen the fabrics. Lisbeth hadn’t realized they were his colors. “It’s good to be home. I have been remiss.” She hoped her remoteness covered her struggle to control her emotions.

He gave her his hand to escort her into the Great Hall. “I understand there was a lot of activity here today.”

Lisbeth heard his quick intake of breath when they entered the hall. She glanced in silence as his gaze darted around the room.

His mouth curved into a brilliant smile. “I see your hand in this.” He slid a sideways glance at her. “Well done. It’s a Hall to make a man proud.”

His sensuous smile sent a ripple of awareness through her. Deciding to focus on his words rather than the warm sensation they caused, she reveled in his open admiration. She too was pleased with the work the servants completed.

New rushes were strewn on the floor, mingled with sprigs of lavender. The soft clean fragrance was a decided change from the smell of rotting food. Ever since she had returned, she found that the stench overpowered the room and made eating an already tasteless meal difficult. The tables were scrubbed and cleaned of grease. The scratches were filled or colored to blend with the wood. Clean linens dressed the table. Cushions with the Reynolds family crest were on the large chairs waiting for Lord Alex and Lisbeth.

She noticed Alex’s shoulders relax and his free fist unclench. She studied him and observed a variety of emotions flitter across the knight’s face. They approached the dais and took their seats.

His men swaggered into the hall loud and noisy, but stopped when they noticed Alex and Lisbeth seated and waiting. The surprise on their faces did not escape her. They filed into their seats and sat quietly—for Alex’s soldiers.

Duke wandered into the hall, his large head sweeping the lower tables looking for scraps. Lisbeth snapped her fingers and gave the dog a hand signal. His response was immediate. He slinked away and curled up at the hearth.

Out of the corner of her eye she noted Alex’s disbelief. Inwardly she smiled. The dog had taken advantage of the situation. She wasn’t surprised. Duke had played the same game with her and her father.

Alex leaned over to her. “He growled every time we approached him to get him away from the table.”

She turned to him. “He’s a little imp.”

“Little! Lisbeth. He’s a mastiff and as big as my horse.”

His eyes were bright with laughter and his smile was warm and inviting. She gave him a thorough look. He had dark wavy hair and gray eyes with a sparkle of humor. His casual smirk gave him a charming devilish look. Her gaze roamed down his shoulders to his broad chest and muscular arms. He may not have maintained the castle as he should, but what man would? He focused on taking care of the farmers and villagers. They thrived. She wondered if his broad shoulders ever tired of the burden he carried. He looked like he could take on anything. How did the dog put him off?

The mastiff’s head popped up. He let out a gentle woof. Lisbeth snapped her fingers and the dog laid back down.

The aroma that filled the hall made her mouth water. No one had to announce the arrival of dinner. Her mother’s kitchen had been renowned for its delicious meals, and she was her mother’s best student. The meals she’d eaten these last weeks were not unfit. The cook had done a good job—for a field cook. She had shooed him out and, with Ann and Eve, put the evening meal together. Now she sat back and waited.

Servers brought platters of fresh game into the hall and set them in front of Alex and Lisbeth. The artful yet conservative presentation of the food along with the delicate aroma of spiced meat grabbed everyone’s attention.

“I hope the food’s to your liking. You told me I could do anything. I gave you back your field cook.”

Lisbeth nodded to the server. He carefully placed pieces of game with a honey and ginger glaze onto Alex’s trencher.

His nostrils flared as he savored the spicy and tart fragrances. “Delicious.”

“You’ve not tasted a thing yet,” she teased.

“If the meal tastes anything like it smells, it could only be delicious.”

Her smile deepened into a rich laugh.

* * *

Alex did not miss how Lisbeth directed the dinner service with barely a nod. She would do him well when the king and his family arrived. He held his cup, which was magically kept full. He sat back, soaked in the atmosphere, drank his ale, and observed her over the rim of his tankard.

With her eyes closed, she popped a piece of meat into her mouth and savored the morsel. The tip of her tongue ran along her lips to capture the glaze.

He froze. He found himself studying her mouth. His eyes raked boldly over her. He downed the ale and held out his cup for more. There was little time left. Sooner or later he would have to tell her she was his wife.

Chapter Seven

In the late evening, Alex closed the last of the estate journals. One task done. He could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. He hadn’t confronted Lisbeth about their marriage. He put up every obstacle in order to delay. He raised every excuse he could find but in the end he knew what stopped him. Fear she would reject him. How had he gotten in this mess?

The king’s message on the top of a very orderly pile of papers on his desk caught his eye. The bold red seal screamed for attention. He thought about the last time he saw King Edward.

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