The Bride of Windermere by Margo Maguire Read Free Book Online Page B

a satisfactory answer. She knew she wouldn’t get one now.
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    By morning, the rain had let up to a steady drizzle and Kit decided, with a shiver, that she would not proceed another mile until Bridget was better able to travel. The old woman had been up coughing most of the night, and Kit knew she didn’t feel at all well. Kit braided her hair tightly and pulled the old brown hat down low on her forehead, covering her hair completely. She ordered Bridget to stay abed, then she wrapped herself up in her short cloak and went out in search of breakfast.
    Though she knew the men had split up between two of the three rooms they’d let, Kit saw none of them about now. The only person in sight was the innkeeper’s wife, who greeted Kit stiffly, obviously unimpressed with her rough appearance.
    It mattered not. All Kit wanted was a bit of porridge for herself and Bridget and to find out where Wolf had gone. She needed to talk to him before he decided on his course for the day.
    â€œSir Gerhart is in the stables,” the woman informed her curtly. Her manner clearly indicated that if it had been her place, she would have advised the powerful knight to leave the ragged girl somewhere.
    Kit paid no attention to the slight. She just wanted to talk to Wolf as soon as possible.
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    Wolf pulled Janus’ cinch tight and dropped the stirrup back over his steed’s side. When he looked up, he saw Lady Kathryn approaching. At least he thought it must be Kathryn, though he couldn’t be sure for her face was clean.
    Except for an ugly bruise around her eye and a scab in the middle of her lower lip, it was an amazing face. Not a dainty or beautiful face by any means, but a fascinating face. A strong and willful face. Framed by rich, thick lashes, her bold green eyes, one blackened and more than a bit bloodshot, met his gaze with a directness that was unusual in a woman. Pale, shapely eyebrows arched gracefully over them. High cheekbones gave way to a well-formed nose and full lips. The slightest hint of a cleft dented her chin. When he realized he was staring, he turned back to Janus and let his breath out slowly. Where in hell was the ragged little urchin he’d left asleep at the inn?
    Why couldn’t she have been the child he had expected to find, or more like the ladies he’d known at court? Either one would have been easier to deal with than this headstrong, disturbing girl they’d found at Somerton. She was too impulsive and unpredictable by half. He was never sure what to expect from her, and now with her face washed—
    â€œGerhart.” Her commanding voice was direct, as well as her gaze.
    She was disturbing, all right, and annoying.
    He wondered where the meek girl was who’d been beaten by her stepfather only two days before. He walked around Janus and picked up each of his hoofs to examine them in turn, trying to ignore her presence.
    â€œWe cannot go on today.” Her speech was direct and imperious, as usual.
    â€œOh?” He controlled his reaction, refusing to be riled by her. God knew she managed to have some effect on him every time she spoke. He had resolved to be immune to her as they approached Windermere Castle. He wouldn’t let her aggravate him, nor was he going to be taken in by any feminine wiles she may possess, scant though they may be.
    â€œBridget is ill. She cannot travel.”
    â€œWe leave in half an hour.” His voice was firm. “Several of my men have ridden on ahead. If you have not yet broken your fast, then I suggest you do so now, because you will not have another opportunity.”
    The dolt obviously hadn’t heard her! “But Bridget is sick! She cannot go on in the rain!”
    â€œShe can and she will,” Wolf replied with controlled calm. “She will ride with Nicholas, as she did yesterday. The alternative is that she remain here at the Crooked Ax.”
    â€œYou do not understand! I am responsible for