Loyal Heart (The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty #1) by Anna Markland Read Free Book Online Page B

very taken with Mut.”
    He tightened his embrace. “I don’t think that’s all he is taken with, Sophia.”
    The room seemed to tilt, the pulse at her throat ran wild, someone must have lit a roaring fire, voices boomed in her ears. She grasped the crucifix pendant at her neck, seeking reassurance. “I don’t know what…”
    He patted her hand. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, coming to his feet. “You’re a sensible girl. I trust you.”
    Sensible !
    The word echoed in her head as she watched him walk away to rejoin the fun. She didn’t want to be sensible . She wanted to be loved by a man in the way her father loved her mother. Recklessly, passionately. Surely he of all people understood that?
    Yesterday she’d jested about living her life as a spinster. Now she was beset by a wanton desire for a man with whom she had a fleeting acquaintance, hoping against hope he might emerge from the darkness outside at any moment.
    She must have inhaled some noxious substance in the forest that had brought on this malady.
    ~~~
    Brandt lay on a camp bed, staring into the shadowed peak of the pavilion. Standard torches flamed throughout the encampment, chasing away the darkness.
    He never had any difficulty falling asleep, but now sleep eluded him. Mayhap it simply wasn’t dark enough.
    He folded his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles, doubting too much light was the reason.
    Perhaps he was concerned for the lame horse.  
    He turned onto his side, almost laughing out loud at that absurd notion. It wasn’t as though Mut was at death’s door, and he could hear Vidar speaking softly to the beast not far away.
    He sat bolt upright when the reason for his restlessness became clear. He’d failed in his duty as Duke Conrad’s envoy. The faint strains of music coming from the manor house indicated the festivities were still underway. The emperor was likely there, as well as the hated Duke Heinrich of Saxony. There had probably been many snide remarks about the absence of Conrad’s envoy.
    He got out of bed and shook awake his squire. Drogo startled, nigh on falling off his cot. He regretted waking the lad, but time was of the essence. “Get my clothes, I’m going to the manor house.”
    His squire scrambled to his feet and retrieved the clothing, yawning widely as he helped get the shirt over his master’s head.
    Within five minutes, the faithful servant had him dressed and booted. “You’re a good squire, Drogo,” Brandt told him, realizing he didn’t praise the boy enough for his efficiency and loyalty.
    Drogo tried hard not to yawn. “I’ll wait up for you, my lord.”
    Brandt shook his head. “ Nein . Go back to bed. I won’t be long. I’ll pay my respects to the emperor and be back before you know it.”
    Even in the half-light he saw Drogo’s eyes widen. “You’re going alone? This is enemy territory.”
    “The men are probably asleep. It’s a wedding. I’ll be safe walking to the manor house.”
    He opened the canvas, stepped outside, then closed the opening behind him as Drogo regained his cot.
    The air had cooled slightly but he looked forward to the walk.
    Vidar, still perched on a stool beside Mut, came to attention, but Brandt waved him away. “I’ll be gone half an hour. Just to the manor house.”
    “I’ll escort you,” Vidar insisted.
    “ Nein . Stay with the horse. He needs you more than I do.”
    Vidar frowned, then seemed to appreciate the jest and smiled—a rare event, but Brandt deemed it best not to remark on it.
    He strode off across the field in the direction of the house still ablaze with light. As he got closer he detected a sweet perfume on the warm breeze. Honeysuckle maybe. He inhaled deeply, the aroma filling his mind with images of Sophia von Wolfenberg. Her lovely face tilted to the sun, the incredible blonde hair, the breasts that looked just the right size to fill his hands, the tempting smile. A woman who cared about horses.
    He paused and looked back to the