Page 39 of The Iron Dagger
So it wasabout money. Jumping to her defense and the show of apologies was just a convenient excuse to rob the man. Gideon may have been a lord in title, but he was no better than a lowly thief.
“How can you be so cold and remorseless?” she said, yanking her hand out of his grip.
“I didn’t like what he was saying.”
Hara sighed. “It wasn’t so very long ago that you spoke to me like that. People like him are harmless, I’ve been hearing such talk all my life.”
Abruptly, Gideon halted his strides and turned her to face him, and her breath was stolen by the wild fury in his eyes.
“Well, I haven’t. And I’m sorry for saying such things to you in the past,” he said, his voice fierce with sincerity. “Never accept it, Hara. Every hateful person who treats you that way deserves swift retribution, whether they’re princes or soldiers or helpless old men. If you are too gentle, or frightened, or tired to fight them all, then I will fight them for you.”
With that, he took her hand again and pulled her along in swift strides towards the mounting post.
Seraphine sat contently on the horse’s hindquarters. She blinked slowly at their approach, and Gideon gave her a quick scritch under the chin. Hara still trembled slightly from the encounter, but she was able to appreciate that it was much easier to mount while wearing trousers as her leg swung freely over the saddle.
Gideon watched her intently as she mounted and adjusted her seat.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m rather partial to those breeches,” he said as he swung up behind her. “I knew how your arse felt in the dark, but now I can appreciate the sight.”
As he gathered up the reins with one hand, the other stroked boldly up the back of her thigh, coming to cup her backside beneath the cloak. He gave it a light squeeze, but before Hara could react, he spurred Ruteger forward.
Gideon
The town of Cat’s Paw was an afternoon’s ride from Mortimer. Unlike the strictly guarded and taxed border between Norwen and Lenwen, Norwen and Montag kept a simple bookkeeper to record travelers.
“Names?” the soldier asked, her gaze lingering on Gideon’s face for slightly longer than was polite. He was used tothis kind of attention at court, but that was when he was bathed and dressed in something that hadn’t been stuffed in a satchel for days on the back of a horse. Perhaps she was simply taken aback by his swollen lip.
“Lord Gideon Falk,” he said.
The soldier’s eyes widened as she took in the embroidered crest on his cloak. “My lord, welcome home,” she murmured, bowing deeply.
“Make no note of my companion’s name. You may list her simply as my guest.” Uncomfortably, Gideon remembered that witches were required to provide papers and pay a hefty tax to enter or leave Montag. If Hara was traveling alone, they’d have probably pulled her aside for questioning too. Sorcerers’ movements were well tracked.
“Of course, my lord. Do you require a guard?” the soldier said. This was definitely not allowed, and Gideon almost smiled. It felt right to be back in a place where the rules were bent for him and services were offered without question. He was home.
“No need. You wouldn’t have an available autocar, would you?”
“No, my lord,” she said, her brows furrowed in regret. It was unlikely so far from the city, but it did not matter.
“Very well,” he said, spurring Ruteger onward.
He would have preferred to take an autocar, or at least gain another horse. It would arouse suspicion if he was seen riding so informally with a supposed fearsome witch hunter. But it was easily remedied. They could leave Ruteger at a soldiers’ station in the city and take an autocar up to the palace.
They found a clearing well away from the road, and there they stopped to stretch their legs. Gideon tried not to watch Hara as she ate, but ever since the previous night, he felt himself a little mad.
If he was aware of her before, it was nothing to the magnetism that now fixed his eyes to her every move. He burned with curiosity to know what had woken her last night, and why she hadn’t pushed him away. All morning his thoughts were pulled back to her sweet gasps, and the way she arched into him as she came. That untouchable air she carried had dissolved last night under his touch, revealing a well of passion and heat.
It was surprising, and wonderfully exciting. The mere memory of it made him hard, and he pulled his traveling cloak surreptitiously over his lap.
It felt like a secret between them now, those raw moments in the night. She hadn’t mentioned it, her cool mask snapped resolutely back into place with the dawn. It was hard to believe she had backed him against the door at the inn and kissed him. Perhaps he’d taken it too far by touching her, mistaking her gratitude after the fight for genuine interest.
Several times that morning he’d almost spoken, clumsy openings ready to burst from his lips, but what could he say? He did not understand his own feelings, so strong and unsettling that he couldn’t form the words to describe them to himself. What if he offended her again, or said something cruel? He wasn’t a kind, noble person who could charm her with words and deeds. He had wealth and beauty, which Hara was immune to. She said herself that she wasn’t sure if she liked him.
The uncertainty of her feelings and the desire that raged in his blood swirled and chased each other in his mind all morning, until all he could do was stare at her in barely concealed frustration. Gideon could not remember the last time he had to work for a woman’s attention.
Those tight trousers weren’t helping as he watched her unclasp the cloak and spread it over the ground, kneeling to sit upon it like a picnic blanket. He needed to distract himself.
