Page 9 of Promise of a Knight
“Will ye honor it?”
He nodded and, with one last lingering look at her mouth, sauntered away.
When Alexandra looked up, Lady Home was glaring at her and shaking her head. Saints, but she might just be safer escaping into the abbey when they passed. Damnation chased her no matter what. If she followed her parents, she was doomed to a life in prison, if not execution, and if she followed what was in her heart, she’d end up labeled a seductress or worse…
The trumpets sounded and it was time to leave. Alex gripped the reins and pommel, shifting uncomfortably as she rode sidesaddle, and urged her horse into a trot. They barely stopped as they passed the abbey. Those who’d spent the night there quickly fell into line and, soon, Princess Margaret and Alex were surrounded by dozens of chattering ladies, dressed in all their satin and velvet finery as they rode.
The sun beamed down on the princess’ necklace, sparkling in green and purple light. The rainbows of color stretched over Margaret’s pink flesh. Alex wanted to snatch the necklace. Not in a way that would hurt the pretty, royal bride, but to take it all the same. To burn it so that it no longer existed as anything other than sparkling ash.
Her stomach twisted. Thievery was not her forte. She wasn’t a bad apple in the barrel of Maxwells. Aye, being bored and the youngest of ten, she’d gotten very good at eavesdropping among other impish things since no one paid her any attention, but that didn’t make her a thief.
Alex was suddenly quite angry about that. Why should she have to do this horrible deed? This crime? All because her mother was petty enough to want a piece of jewelry? Why didn’t her father make her a replica? Lord knew he was willing to spend enough on his horses.
Alex glanced over at the princess, who happened to look at her just that moment, touching the necklace that hung heavy around her neck.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked.
Alex nodded. Would the princess think it was beautiful if she knew it had first been made for the mistress of the brother of a king? Oh, the very idea… Alex glanced at the other ladies, swearing at least two of them snickered and looked away. They must have known where the necklace first came from. The king couldn’t have been saying anything untoward in the gesture of giving it to his bride, but all the same… rumors would certainly start. Perhaps, Alex prayed, the king did not know where the necklace came from but loved it for the same reasons her mother loved it—it was beautiful and it represented Scotland.
“The king must have known the pretty green of yer eyes, for it certainly matches them well,” Alex said, raising her chin at the ladies who dared to laugh at their queen.
“Thank you, Lady Alexandra. You are too kind.”
Alex bowed her head and then forced her gaze straight ahead.
A couple hours later, they stopped to rest the horses, stretch their legs and have a picnic. The servants were quick to set out blankets and prepare a small feast. Before Alex could dismount, Sir Alaric was by her side.
Alex glanced toward Princess Margaret who was being assisted from her mount by one of the king’s men. ’Twas frightfully difficult with the voluminous skirts. Alex had never had so much trouble at Caerlaverock.
“Can I offer my assistance, my lady?” Sir Alaric asked.
He held out his hand, his gaze soft and enticing. Alex liked when he looked at her like that. Liked the warm feeling that started to fill her insides. Liked the way her heart beat faster. Oh, she was doomed, for she liked the thought of her parents having apoplexy at the inviting smile she was returning not only to a man, but a Sassenach.
“I am capable of getting down on my own,” she half told the truth. Certainly she could in her riding clothes, but not in this silly gown. “I’ve been riding since before I could walk.”
Alaric flashed her a knowing smile. Why did he have to be so handsome?
“I’ve no doubt. I simply offer my services as a gentleman to a lady.”
“Not as a knight to a savage?” Alex teased, returning his charming smile. What was she doing?
Alaric chuckled, holding out his hand, close enough she thought he might just touch her leg. Oh, scandal! Her limbs heated and she felt herself inch ever so much closer to him.
“My lady, you truly are a rare gem.”
“Have ye met many Scottish ladies?” She placed her hand in his, marveling at the sheer size and power of him as he lifted her as though she weighed no more than a feather.
“I’ve met many ladies, not all of them Scottish.” The rogue winked.
Why did his reply have to sound so naughty? Oh, she was woefully unprepared for such courtly flirtations. She enjoyed it so very much, but she felt at a loss for words, and where other ladies seemed to flirt with not a hint of color touching their cheeks, she was rouging like a peasant in a field. And Alex felt very much like a farmhand attempting to entice a knight, rather than the lady that she was.
She slipped her hand from his, hoping to impart that she wasn’t as brazen as she felt. “Well, if ye’ll excuse me—”
Sir Alaric leaned close, cutting her off. “You needn’t act so high and mighty with me, my lady. I’m not going to ravish you—even though I want to.”
With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered away, tall and full of masculine pride. Alex’s mouth fell open and she forced it closed. Forced the tawdry heat shooting through her limbs to cease. She tried to catch her breath. Tried to look away, but her gaze would go nowhere other than his rear.
The man was… He was…
