Page 152 of Historical Hotties
“But surely that nasty lad will tell him.”
“Let him. And then I will tell him of your noble actions in preventing his son from harming a little girl.”
She gazed up at him, his words settling. “Ye think I was noble?”
He nodded, the fingers cupping her chin now caressing it. “Indeed I do. But I also think that you need to control your temper where the boys are concerned. It is beneath you to argue with a child.”
Her features darkened. “But he was horrible. I wasna going to let him get away with his dastardly behavior.”
He was not going to delve into the subject with her. “I will say no more.” He let go of her face. “Go and collect your cloak. I shall meet you downstairs.”
She nodded obediently, opening the door to the chamber. Creed could see Kristina and Julia beyond and wondered how Carington was getting along with her new roommates. She had not said anything about it and he had not heard anything negative to this point. He eyed the girls in the room beyond as he turned back for the steps.
Carington’s gaze lingered on Creed before turning into to the chamber. Kristina was looking at her but Julia had better things to occupy her attention. Julia’s eyes were focused on the loom in front of her, an elaborate scene of color blossoming under her skilled needle. Carington smiled at Kristina as she moved to her bed and possessions at the far end of the room. Just as she reached the cloak thrown over the end of the bed, she heard Julia speak.
“Is Sir Creed to be your permanent escort while you are at Prudhoe, my lady?” she asked.
On-guard by the mere sound of the woman’s voice, Carington glanced at her. “Why do ye ask?”
“Because he seems to spend a good deal of time around you.”
“If he does, it is only his duty. He has been my protector since we left my home.”
Julia snorted, a very lady-like sound. “I see,” she said. “Have you been warned of Sir Creed yet, my lady?”
Carington’s movements paused and her eyes narrowed. “What do ye mean?”
Julia was still focused on her loom; she stabbed at the material. “Then no one has told you.”
Carington did not like her tone. She folded the cloak neatly over her arm. “Told me what?”
Julia finally lifted her gaze, noticing that Kristina was shaking her head at her. Julia looked quite innocently at her companion. “Why do you shake your head at me?” she asked. “You know that she must be told. Sir Creed has been with her since her arrival. I was told he was with her the entire trip from Scotland. We would be doing her a disservice if we did not tell her what we know of him.”
Carington had had enough of the lady’s mystery. She put an irritated hand on her hip. “One of ye had better tell me. What about Sir Creed?”
Julia looked at her with her plain blue eyes. “There is nothing to become upset over, Lady Carington. But you should know the character of the man entrusted with your care, if for no other reason than to be very careful around him.”
Carington cocked an impatient eyebrow and her foot began to tap. She had already asked for a reply several times and would not do it again. Julia, sensing she had the Scots attention, put her needle down in a slow, deliberate gesture.
“Have little doubt that Sir Creed is not a great knight,” Julia said evenly. “He is the very best in the realm. So great, in fact, that the king requested his service. Creed served the king for nearly three years, until about six months ago.”
Carington was torn between impatience and curiosity. “What happened six months ago that he no longer serves the king?”
Julia folded her hands primly; she was enjoying this. “Creed and five other knights were sent to France to escort Isabella of Angoul?me back to England to marry the king. Have you not heard of this, even in your caves in Scotland?”
Carington’s cheeks grew hot and she turned away from Julia, moving for the chamber door. “If yer going to insult me, than I have no more time for yer foolishness.”
Julia watched her march across the room and proceeded to reclaim her needle. She waited until Carington was at the door before she spoke again, loud enough so that Carington would clearly hear her.
“It is well known that Creed de Reyne and little Isabella had a romance. It is also well known that Creed deflowered her.” Julia stabbed the needle into the material again, watching Carington come to a halt in her peripheral vision. “Now news comes to the north that the queen is expecting, but it is not the king’s child. It would seem that some believe she is well into a pregnancy brought about by none other than Creed himself.”
Carington struggled not to react, but in truth, she felt as if she had been hit squarely in the chest. The lady’s words were bitter and nasty; she did not know this young woman and what she knew of her was not pleasant. She was stunned by the words, unsure what to think or believe.
“Why would you tell me this?” she asked in a strange, hoarse voice.
Julia did not look at her. She continued to embroider. “I tell you because you should take great care while in the company of Sir Creed. He has a most unsavory reputation with young women and I would hate to see you fall victim to his lusty nature.”
“Ye’re lying,” she accused quietly.
