A Perfect Knight For Love by Jackie Ivie Read Free Book Online Page B

death.”
    “You just told me . . . he already knows.” Shock altered her voice.
    “I did. And he does.”
    “I don’t understand this at all.”
    “You doona’ need to! Trust me. And another thing—I need to ken your name. Uh . . . your given one.”
    “Amalie,” she replied automatically.
    “You’re na’ the governess?”
    “Y-yes,” Amalie stammered on it. She knew what was coming next, too.
    “That does na’ sound right. I canna’ recollect the name, but . . . you’re certain-sure it’s Amalie?”
    “Of course.” She’d forgotten one of the rules of lying. Always keep the story straight. Amalie nearly groaned.
    “Fair enough. Amalie. I’ll work at remembering it. You’re to stay at my side. Leastways ’til we reach MacGowan land. Or Dunn-Fyne ceases this humiliation of me.”
    “Humiliation?”
    “Our declaration is all that’s standing between us and death. And I include the wee bairn in that.”
    “You expect me to believe he’d hurt his own babe?”
    “She’s his fourth daughter. Unwanted. Another mouth to feed and drain his coffers for dowry. I doona’ ken if he’d harm her for certain, but whether she lives or dies means little to him.”
    “Now I really hate him,” Amalie replied. Thayne’s lips curved slightly.
    “Enough to obey? As a proper wife to me?”
    “Very well. I agree. I’ll act the part. For now.”
    “I doona’ ken if you listen proper but I’m beginning to doubt it. You are my wife. ’Tis of an unbreakable nature, and . . . brace yourself. There’s more.”
    “More?”
    “I’m betrothed to the MacKennah lass. This marriage will restart the feud.”
    “Feud? Did you say . . . feud?” It just kept getting worse and there didn’t seem any way to stop it.
    “MacGowan Clan’s rich. Settled. We hold a castle, three lochs, and a seaport. Na’ so MacKennah Clan. They march right alongside the sea, but on rock-strewn cliff attached to naught save bog. They’ve leagues of worthless land and bloodthirsty clan. Little in wealth. A betrothal was arranged in exchange for ransom over a score ago.”
    “Ran . . . som?” Sweet heavens! Were her ears deceiving her? Ransom?
    “You ken now why he’s allowing me to live? Dunn-Fyne has full vengeance for any slight. We gave it to him.”
    Her voice was missing. Her mouth just kept opening, then closing, and nothing came out.
    “You also ken how things could change should you get . . . seized? And a maiden wall discovered?”
    She gulped. Blinked against moisture that accompanied what felt like absolute frost invading her limbs. Gulped again.
    “You’ll stay at my side? Without argue?”
    She nodded. The next moment he was on his knees and backing out from their shelter. He took her with him.
     
     
    Things looked little improved as dawn lengthened into mid-morn, the day awash with rainfall that shaded everything to gray. Thayne lifted his face to the drops and then shoved fingers through his hair, pushing it back onto his shoulders before resuming a hold about the woman before him. It might be worse. They could be facing a cloudburst of huge strength and duration, turning every bit of land to hoof-sucking bog and stopping travel. He wondered if the lass guessed that particular spate of luck.
    Or even if she cared.
    The woman was amenable to whatever he asked; without argue, comment, or delay. She’d have a difficult time running from him without boots, but she gingerly tiptoed about, staying at his side. She was with him to fetch a tin of water, watched him drink it before refilling it for her. He could see once she returned—following the length of rope he’d looped about her waist—that she’d used the water to wash her face and attempt to braid all that hair of hers. She hadn’t seen his frown. She should’ve left her hair as it was, pulled back and hidden. He’d probably been a little rough when making certain a MacGowan plaid covered her, but she hadn’t balked. Women! She already knew Dunn-Fyne