The Black Lyon by Jude Deveraux Read Free Book Online Page A

good sound, although almost overly loud.”
    The young squire stared at her for so long a while that she frowned at his intensity.
    “I seem to have said something wrong. I meant no criticism of your brother when I said his laughter was too loud, but the walls almost shook. My maids wondered greatly at the sound.”
    Geoffrey recovered himself. “Ranulf waits below and…”
    “Oh no, he is on the lists with his men.”
    He gave her a wide grin and she looked away. “Come with me to the lists then that I may greet this laughing brother of mine. In truth I believe you mix him with another. He has black hair and…”
    “Oh, yes. And black eyes, and his horse is most gentle.”
    Geoffrey drew his brows together and shook his head. “That Ranulf would allow someone else to touch that precious horse of his is beyond understanding. I can see this information will pale beside what is obviously of a much greater concern to you, but my name is Geoffrey de Warbrooke, lowly squire to Sir Tompkin.”
    She looked up at him. “You are not at all like Lion. There he is!” She hurried forward.
    Geoffrey stared after her, bewildered. Ranulf had always hated being called the Black Lion; in truth, he had always hated any reference to his blackness, for a reason unknown to Geoffrey. He had heard the stories of his brother and seen the way he was feared by the common folk. Only at court, among his peers, was he treated without fear. This girl, a mere baron’s daughter, had called Ranulf Lion.
    “I can see I am most unneeded here,” Geoffrey said as he stood by his brother, who stared down into Lyonene’s eyes.
    Ranulf turned in surprise. “Geoffrey!” He grabbed the much smaller boy and hugged him, kissing each cheek and then a hard kiss on the mouth. “I did not know you came. Where is that odious old man you follow about? Do not tell me you have been knighted and come to join my Black Guard?”
    “You know there is another year before my knighting, and I am too lazy to join such a guard as yours. I will not sweat myself to your high stench each day. I do not know how this lovely lady abides you. I had not heard of this passion of yours. You have kept the secret well.”
    Lyonene turned to watch one of the Black Guard throw a long lance at a far target. She avoided the stares of both men. “I must return to the donjon. I will see you at dinner?” She gave Ranulf a fleeting glance.
    He took her small hand and caressed it before holding it to his lips. Neither of them was aware of the people who watched. She lifted her skirts and began to run to the old stone tower. Only at the wooden steps that led to the second floor did she remember to walk correctly.
    “What think you of Lady Lyonene?” Ranulf tried to control the excitement in his voice.
    Geoffrey was not fooled; he knew his brother too well. “I have heard she has the temper and quarrelsome nature of a magpie and…” Geoffrey laughed aloud when his brother turned to him a face so distorted with rage as to be hardly recognizable. “Do not murder me, brother, please. I do but jest.”
    Ranulf relaxed and looked away sheepishly. “I admit she has had an effect on me. But tell me true what you think of her.”
    “I hear she has made you laugh.” He watched his older brother’s slow smile, amazed.
    “I do not understand myself, but the girl has bewitched me. Is she not the most beautiful woman alive, for all she is but a child?”
    “Come sit by me, brother, and tell me of this girl. You have known her long?”
    Ranulf leaned back against the wall behind the stone bench and ran his hand over his eyes, through his sweat-dampened hair. “I came here to see you, and but met my Lioness yestermorn. I do not know what has overtaken me. From the first moment I saw those green eyes I have seen naught else. I did not sleep much last night, and now I fear I will kill myself, for I cannot keep my mind about my work. What is wrong with me?”
    It took Geoffrey a while to