Julie Garwood - [3 Book Box Set] by Gentle Warrior:Honor's Splendour:Lion's Lady Read Free Book Online

his expression was hidden.
    “Yes?” the lord answered impatiently.
    “Are you my father?” He turned then, and Geoffrey had a clear view of the torment and confusion on the boy’s face.
    “No.”
    His answer brought tears to the youngster’s eyes. Lord Geoffrey glanced at Roger with an expression that clearly stated, “Now what?” Roger cleared his throat and muttered to the boy, “He is not your father, lad. He is your lord. Your father was his vassal.”
    “My father is dead?”
    “Aye,” Geoffrey answered. “And you are in my care now.”
    “To train to be a knight?” the boy asked with a frown.
    “Yes, to train to be a knight.”
    “You are not my father, but you are my lord,” the boy stated very matter-of-factly. “ ’Tis almost the same thing,” he announced, challenging Lord Geoffrey with an unwavering stare. “Is it not?”
    “Yes,” the warrior answered with exasperation. “ ’Tis the same.”
    Neither the lord nor Roger said another word until the door was closed behind the child. They could hear him boasting to the guards posted at the door, and Roger was the first to smile. “Thomas surely had his hands full with that one,” he chuckled. “And he was not a young man when the boy came along, if my mind serves me well.”
    “How could I have forgotten?” the leader asked. “Thomas had several children, all female, and fully grown before his wife gave him a son. His pride reached London,” Geoffrey added.
    “And the girl?” Roger asked.
    “She is his sister. You have only to look at the boy’s eyes, Roger, to see the truth. They are replicas of hers.” Geoffrey swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His legs felt weak but he braced them against the side of the bed and took a deep breath, willing himself strength. “She hides from me, Roger, and I will know the reason.”
    “We were told that the entire family was killed,” Roger said. “And the boy was dressed as a peasant . . .”
    “Obviously for his protection, for he is heir to Montwright. . . . ”
    “The servant who tried to take the lad, perhaps he can tell you the answers to this riddle,” Roger advised.
    “Yes. I am sure he knows where his mistress hides,” Geoffrey agreed. “He will tell me why she is afraid.”
    “Afraid?” Roger laughed. “I doubt she is afraid of anyone or anything. Why, she had all of us doing her bidding. Horace tells all who will listen how the golden one walked into the great hall and enchanted all who were present. All but me,” Roger added.
    “You were not enchanted?” the leader inquired with one raised eyebrow.
    “Humbled,” Roger admitted with a sheepish grin. “I am too old to be enchanted.”
    Geoffrey chuckled and walked over to look out the window. He stared out at the forest while he listened to Roger.
    “When I first saw her, I was filled with anger. I did not expect a slip of a girl to tend you and I was convinced that you were dying. But she knew what she was about. Her lack of fear intrigued me. She was a contradiction,” Roger admitted, “but I noticed the vulnerability in her when she asked me about the boy. I was too exhausted at the time to put two and two together. I see the connection now.”
    “Why did she leave, knowing that her home was once again secure? To chance the outside when she could be well protected here . . . ” Geoffrey turned from the window and added, “I
will
find her.”
    “And when you do?” Roger asked.
    “I will make her mine,” the warrior answered in a hard, determined voice. “She will be mine.”
    The vow was made.
    It took less than an hour to conduct the necessary business of righting Montwright. Roger had been most efficient, and the men were all hard at work reinforcing the walls. Lord Geoffrey dressed—all in black, as was his mood—and waited impatiently in the great hall for the servant to be brought before him.
    He was becoming wild with anger, frustration, and worry. Finding the girl before harm