Lady Isobel's Champion by Carol Townend Read Free Book Online Page B

dangerous?’ she asked, thoughts beginning to whirl as she came to a realisation. Lucien is attracted to me. Perhaps he is as attracted to me as I am to him...
    How am I to keep him at bay if there is an attraction on both sides? With Mama’s history, I can’t risk a pregnancy. Her mother’s pain-filled cries echoed through her mind, she had fought so valiantly to give birth to an heir. That will not be my fate.
    ‘They are dangerous if you have a sensitive nose.’ Lucien grimaced. ‘That’s where you’ll find the tanneries.’
    A pungent smell proved the truth of his words. They hurried past holding their breath, and came down from the walls by a grain market. After crossing a square containing a handful of market stalls, they entered a shadowy street where the upper storeys of the houses leaned to within inches of their neighbours opposite.
    Isobel’s gaze fell on a man weaving his way through the townsfolk. It was only a glimpse—an unshaven face peering out from beneath a brown hood—but it was enough. She gripped Lucien’s arm. ‘My lord!’
    Lucien narrowed his gaze as he scoured the street. Children and dogs were racing in and out of the crowded alleyways, blocking his view.
    ‘There, my lord, by that tavern.’
    Vivid blue eyes met hers. ‘Isobel, I warn you—’
    ‘He’s going inside!’
    The door shut. Isobel released Lucien’s sleeve and picked up her skirts.
    ‘A moment, my lady.’ A firm hand held her in place. ‘That’s the Black Boar, you weren’t thinking of challenging him in there?’
    ‘He shall not have that relic.’
    She took a step, but Lucien blocked her, shaking his head.
    ‘My lady, I should not have to remind you—it is not your place to chase him.’
    Isobel opened her mouth to object, but disapproval was large in his eyes and the words froze on her lips.
    He swept on. ‘Firstly, the man would have to be insane to have kept the relic on him, he will have passed it to someone else. Secondly, it will be dangerous for you to approach him. You must take more care. It’s likely he saw you run out of the Abbey—you weren’t particularly discreet.’
    ‘But—’
    ‘And thirdly, it’s entirely possible the women inside will tear you to pieces.’ Lucien ran his hand round the back of his neck. ‘My lady, the Black Boar is not a place for ladies of gentle birth.’
    Isobel did not know how it was, but in an instant she understood what he was saying. ‘It’s a brothel?’
    ‘My lady!’
    She put up her chin. ‘You are shocked. I may have lived much of my life in a convent, but I have heard of such places. And you have no need to worry that I shall ask how you know it’s a brothel. I have been well schooled.’
    ‘Well schooled?’ He looked at her. ‘That I would seriously question.’
    Her chin inched higher; she knew her cheeks must be aflame. ‘I have learned enough to know that ladies must never question their menfolk on such matters.’
    Dark colour ran into Lucien’s cheeks.
    ‘My lady, I assure you I have never set foot in the Black Boar.’
    Isobel gave him a considering look. His tone—and the earnest expression in those blue eyes—told her he was speaking the truth. ‘I admit, that is a relief.’
    She tucked her arm into his, and smiled up at him. Once again, he was looking at her mouth, his expression unreadable. Her stomach tightened. It could be her imagination, but she rather thought his mouth was edging into a reluctant smile. ‘My lord, I am no faintheart. If you are with me, I am certain all will be well...’
    He shook his head, even as Isobel saw—yes, it was a definite smile. The man really should smile more often.
    ‘I will be your champion, of course.’
    I amuse him. ‘Thank you, my lord.’
    Lucien pushed at the inn door and they stepped over the threshold. It was a relief to know that Lucien had never patronised it, but Isobel could not help but wonder whether there were other, similar, establishments that he had