Page 160 of Historical Hotties
“She will not believe you.”
“I know.” Galen’s lips pressed into a flat line of disgust as he thought of Edward and Gilbert d’Umfraville. He noticed that Creed was toying with his empty ale cup as if distracted. It was unlike the man to fidget and his interest grew. “What kind of errand are you on?”
Creed glanced at him, thinking of an evasive answer before deciding to tell him the truth. The man was an ally of Prudhoe, after all, and would find out eventually. “We have a hostage,” he said. “I have been instructed to provide gifts for the woman.”
Galen’s eyebrows lifted. “A hostage?” he repeated. “Who?”
“A daughter of Kerr.”
Galen’s warm expression faded. “How did this come about?”
“Lord Richard negotiated with the woman’s father for peace. This was the offering.”
“Does Lord de Rochefort know that Richard negotiated for a hostage?”
“If he does not now he will shortly,” Creed could see that Galen was bordering on hostility. “Galen, he did it for the benefit of all of us. I personally do not want to lose another brother in the battle against the clans. I realize that this woman represents everything we have learned to hate, but if this is the way to achieve peace, then I will take it.”
Galen held his gaze a moment longer before reluctantly submitting. He averted his gaze and moved back to his ale. “I am not questioning Richard’s motives,” he replied. “It… it was simply a surprise, ’tis all. We have heard nothing about a hostage.”
“That is because she only came to Prudhoe yesterday.”
“A savage Scots in your midst, eh?”
“I think you would be surprised.”
Galen thought on that a moment, downed the last of his ale and slammed the cup on the table. “If she can bring peace to our world, then I support her presence. God knows, I want peace for my boys. I do not want them to grow up in a world that is constantly at war. I am weary of it as well.”
“You used to be quite eager to kill Scots.”
“That was before I was married. I would rather live long enough to see my sons grow up.”
Creed did not say anything for a moment. Then he gestured to his friend. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“To meet the savage in our midst.”
With a curious expression, Galen followed Creed back to the cab that was parked under a grove of young oaks. He wait several feet away as Creed went to the carriage and peered in through the door window.
Carington was lying across the bench, her eyes closed. Creed hissed at her. “My lady?” he whispered, then more loudly: “Carington? Are you awake?”
Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up too quickly; her dark hair ended up hanging across her face. She blew it away from her lips and wiped it from her wide eyes.
“What is it?” she sounded sleepy. “Is something wrong?”
Creed suppressed a grin; she was half-awake and disoriented. He stuck his head into the cab. “Compose yourself,” he whispered. “I would like you to meet someone.”
She blinked her eyes, looking at him curiously. Smoothing her hair, she moved to get out of the cab. Creed opened the door and held out a hand, helping her to disembark.
Carington’s eyes fixed on the unfamiliar knight with the light brown eyes. He was tall and handsome, looking at her with some suspicion. She could see it in his face. Creed tucked her small hand into the crook of his arm, almost possessively. Carington instinctively moved closer to him, somewhat wary of the enemy knight.
“My lady,” Creed said. “This is Sir Galen Burleson, a knight at neighboring Hexham Castle. Galen, this is the Lady Carington Kerr. She is a guest at Prudhoe.”
Galen’s gaze drifted over her; as most did when beholding Carington for the first time, he could not help but notice her heavenly figure. She was petite, with dark green eyes and black hair. She was, in fact, extremely beautiful. Galen dipped his head in her direction.
“My lady,” he greeted evenly. “Welcome to England.”
Carington looked at Creed before replying. “’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, Sir Galen.”
