Malcolm'S Honor (Historical, 519) by Jillian Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

noble as to bear that title.”
    â€œIn this we agree.” She tapped herbs into the water, her gaze avoiding his. “Do you think the king will believe Caradoc’s claim?”
    â€œI cannot say. The king has a mind of his own, though he’s known to be fair. It depends on your father. Whether he chooses to speak the truth, or if he is swayed by Caradoc’s false promises to help save him.”
    â€œCaradoc, aye, he is my fear.” She dipped the cloth into the trencher, leaning close. Her delicately shaped mouth frowned as she worked, and with it her entire face. Soft lines eased across her brow and crinkled at the corners of her eyes. His gaze flickered across the cut of her lips.
    Aye, she was young, far too spirited for his taste andmuch too soft. Yet his chest tightened, and air caught with a painful hitch between his ribs.
    â€œCaradoc is a man of much weakness, many lies,” he admitted.
    â€œWhat? You believe me? That I am not betrothed to him?” Her measuring gaze latched on to his.
    He could see the intelligence in those eyes, the thoughts forming behind them. “I know the like of Ravenwood far too well. I’ve seen many brutes of that ilk.”
    â€œHe’s nephew to the king.”
    â€œAye. I’m well acquainted with that fact.”
    Hugh murmured, as if fighting to awaken. Malcolm reached for his hand so the young knight would know he was not alone. But Elin’s fingers were already there, and her compassion glimmered, as unmistakable as the steady glow of sunlight into the dim room. Hugh quieted, and she continued her work bathing his wound.
    â€œThen he will awaken?”
    â€œAye.” She cast Malcolm a mischievous smile, quick and fleeting. “You doubt my knowledge, but you’ll soon see. Hugh will live.”
    â€œThen he’ll owe his life to you.”
    â€œNay, to Alma. She pecked like a troubled conscience until I had to return to aid him.”
    But Malcolm knew the truth when he saw it. “Nay, I think you returned to aid your betrothed.”
    She sparkled with humor. “Go ahead, tease. You shall see what a sacrifice I made in returning, once you spend an entire day with Caradoc. Your knights are likely to behead him just to stop his insults.”
    â€œDoes he cast an insult more sharp than yours?”
    She almost laughed, and with the sunlight alive in her fiery curls, she was transformed before his eyes into a nymph of beauty and mischief. “I admit I studied Caradoc’s skill, for although I hate the man, I do admire his foul temper.”
    â€œâ€™Tis a skill you practice then? Like wielding a sword?”
    â€œAye. I am a woman who does both.”
    He laughed. How this girl-woman amused him. He’d not been amused by much in more years than he could count. He handed her a fresh bandage when she gestured for one. “Caradoc is trussed up in the stable under guard. At last report, he still had his head.”
    Elin gazed at Malcolm with that fire flickering in her eyes, as mesmerizing as a mirage in the desert, when heat and earth and imagination created illusions. “Will the king judge me innocent of treason, but condemn me in marriage to his nephew?”
    â€œâ€™Tis more likely than Edward deciding to have you hanged, drawn and quartered.” A warning twisted in Malcolm’s guts and prickled along the back of his neck. “As long as you continue to prove your innocence to me, you will live.”
    â€œYou are not my judge.”
    â€œNay, but I am your jailer.”
    But not for long. Elin thought of the dried oakwood tucked into a pouch in one of her herb crocks. Even a small amount of the berry could render a grown man ill for hours. Ill enough to allow her escape.
    Malcolm caught hold of her hand, his big callused fingers rough and strangely fascinating as they covered hers. “Quit your worries, dove. Edward will be pleased that you saved young Hugh’s