Page 43 of Wolf's Keep

Gaharet snorted. “You wait until Anne bullies you into something. You might see things a little differently then.”

“She already has,” admitted Erin.

Gaharet raised his eyebrows at her. “Last night?”

She gave him a rueful smile, nodding. “And the other day in the kitchen when she…” Erin flushed. She’d said too much.

“When she what?” pressed Gaharet, curiosity lighting up his eyes.

“When she tried convincing me you needed a wife.” Erin rushed the words out, keeping her eyes on baby Georges. She risked a peek at the two men. Henri darted glances between her and Gaharet, while Gaharet grinned, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Well, Erin,” said Gaharet. “Areyoubrave enough to defy Anne?”

The curtain to the bedroom alcove moved aside, and Eleonore entered the room.

“Mon Seigneur Gaharet. Thank you for coming to visit us.”

Erin could have hugged her new friend for the timely interruption.

“Congratulations on your beautiful son, Eleonore, but should you not be in bed? You have just had a baby.”

Erin stared at Gaharet’s profile. Just a kind and caring Seigneur or a man making a point? He turned and locked gazes with her, and her heart thudded to attention. Could the man be both? Erin tore her gaze away.

Eleonore took a seat at the table, sipping from the mug of tea, her nose wrinkling at the taste. “It is nice to have company, and Henri has been so eager to show you our son.”

Erin glanced at the baby, then at Gaharet. She hid a smirk. “I’ve been selfish. I’m sorry. Gaharet, here.” She pushed baby Georges in his direction. To her surprise, Gaharet took him from her without hesitation, snuggling him against his chest. Georges’ face scrunched, his mouth opened, and Erin prepared for an ear-piercing cry. This would test him. He’d shove the baby back any minute now. She’d stake her life on it.

“Shh, Georges,” Gaharet crooned, starting up a gentle rocking motion with his arms, and Georges settled.

Erin chewed on her lip, watching him, frowning. Large, strong, he cradled tiny Georges with such tenderness. A fleeting look of yearning so poignant flickered across his face and something within her stirred, softening toward him, while other parts of her heated in response. She shifted in her seat.

He’d have made beautiful babies.

An image of a little boy with Gaharet’s black hair and her green eyes popped into her brain. She nearly choked. See a man hold a baby and she took leave of her common sense.

Gaharet shifted his focus to her. Their eyes met and held. He raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Erin turned away, grabbing her cup of mead and taking a long sip, catching a shared look between Henri and Eleonore. She closed her eyes, blocking them all out. She needed to get out of this cottage, away from Gaharet doing a great impression of fatherhood, and out of this century. If she didn’t act soon and get herself home, it wouldn’t be too long before the entire d’Louncrais estate would have her lined up to be the new Dame d’Louncrais. Her included.

Chapter Eighteen

The smell of hay and horse greeted Gaharet as he strode into the stables, overwhelming the lingering scent of Erin embedded in the steel links of his hauberk.

“Henri, good to see you back,” he greeted the young stable master. “How are Eleonore and baby Georges?”

“They are well, thank you, Mon Seigneur. Are you riding today?” he asked, running his gaze over Gaharet’s armor, surcoat and sword.

“Erin and I will ride today,” he said, pulling on his gloves.

“Shall I saddle a mare for Mademoiselle Erin?”

Gaharet thought about it for a moment. “No. Leave my saddle off. Erin will ride with me.” He doubted the arrangement would please Erin, but that did not perturb him. He longed to have her in his arms, body pressed against his. If putting her on his horse with him achieved that end, he would do it.

“I will prepare your horse, Mon Seigneur.” Henri grabbed the tack and headed into a stall with a bay stallion. He bridled him and led the horse out, handing Gaharet the reins.

“Enjoy your ride, Mon Seigneur.”

“Thank you, Henri.”

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