Page 225 of Historical Hotties
Caledonia sat up straight.
He headed for the table.
As Caledonia watched warily, he pulled off his helm and set it on the table. She wasn’t interested in the helm as much as shewas interested in the knight—a strikingly handsome knight with dark, wavy hair to his shoulders and a square, firm jaw. When he settled down in his chair and looked at her, she recognized those bright blue eyes. The brightest eyes she’d ever seen. But the whole vision of him was head and shoulders above any man she’d ever seen. Like he had emerged from another place and time, where men were gloriously handsome, like gods. But as she was staring at him, he took her cup, poured out the wine, and, after taking a drink, refused to swallow and sprayed it out all over the floor.
“God’s Bones,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Whatisthat?”
His disgust in her favorite drink snapped her out of her trance. “Mulled wine,” she said, pulling the cup and pitcher in her direction. “Did you have to spit it out like that?”
He eyed her. “How would you have me spit it out?”
“You don’t spit it out. You drink it.”
He shook his head. “Notthatstuff,” he said. “That stuff is for women and weaklings.”
So much for polite behavior. Caledonia sighed impatiently as she poured herself some wine, sipping on the sweet drink while the knight hailed one of the serving wenches and told her exactly what he wanted. Something very manly, undoubtedly. As the woman fled, he returned his attention to Caledonia.
“There,” he said. “We’ll have something good at this table.”
“Thisisgood.”
She was lifting her cup, and he cocked an eyebrow. “As I said, it is a woman’s drink.”
He was starting to irritate her. “Why are you here?” she asked. “I thought Canterbury was going to send me the man I am to marry so that I could look him over. Well?”
He simply looked at her. Then he lifted his hands as if she was missing the obvious. Caledonia had to admit that she was sofixated on those bright eyes that it took her a moment to realize what he was telling her.
Hewasthe man.
Her face fell.
“Nay,” she breathed. “Not you.”
“Me.”
Her mouth fell open. “You?”
“Me.”
Her cheeks turned red and it was clear that she was building up to some kind of explosion, so he put his hands up to ease whatever was rising. From what he’d seen, the lady had no trouble rising to anything.
“Before you throw a fit, know that I had nothing to do with this either,” he said. “Henry practically bullied me into this arrangement and, in some pathetic attempt to coax forth my husbandly sense of protectiveness, told me that you were being held at Gomorrah against your will and commanded me to retrieve you. That is why I was there. I was hunting for you. But, clearly, you were not being held against your will.”
“I wasnot.”
“As I said… none of this was my idea, lady, so if you are to become angry, become angry with Henry. I’m a pawn as much as you are.”
Caledonia didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, big and strong and handsome, so much more beautiful than her dead husband that she was having trouble believing the man was real. But he, too, was shocked and enraged by Henry’s matchmaking, and that meant, to Caledonia, that the man she found blindingly attractive must not find her attractive at all.
Embarrassment filled her.
“I see,” she said, her anger dramatically cooling. “What is your name, Blue Eyes?”
He was cut off from replying as a serving wench appeared with his drink and a bowl of something hot. She also had one for the lady. He waited until the servant left before answering.
“My name is Sir Thorington de Reyne,” he said. “I will answer to Thor. My father is the Earl of Ashington. My family is descended from the Visigoths, so bloodlust and warfare are in our veins. For the past two years, I have served Henry as his Lord Protector and he sees this marriage as a reward for my services, but he also arranged it to vex my father because those two treat me like a contest. They are constantly fighting one another for my services.”
He seemed arrogant, which was typical when it came to English knights, but Thor was clearly an elite knight if he had served as Lord Protector to the king. But what he said, including his manner, told her everything she needed to know. What she didn’t know, she could guess.
