Tags:
Romance,
Historical,
Historical Romance,
Love Stories,
Revenge,
Scotland,
Arranged marriage,
Romance - Historical,
middle ages,
medieval romance,
princesses,
jennette green
to the
Prince’s hall and she’d be able to retrace her steps to her
blades.
But where was the throne room? That hall had
been huge. It must be hard to miss. How large could this castle be,
anyway? She decided to turn left, since she knew the great hall lay
to her right. Fleet of foot, she sprinted down the corridor.
“ Elwytha.” The Commander’s
voice rumbled down the hall, catching her. She froze. Toad’s nails!
Frustration churned inside her. Reluctantly, she turned and faced
him. A slam of fear stabbed her.
He wore a fully armored thick leather jerkin,
studded with metal, making him appear more massive and intimidating
than usual. No helmet, however. Why would he dress thusly to meet
with her? The question flew out of her head when she spied his
expression.
Shock and disbelief flitted across his
misshapen features. Her hair, in all of its glory, had accomplished
her goal. She smiled then, with true pleasure.
Then…was that a smile? Did amusement lurk in
those light, heathen eyes? Nay. Surely not!
* * * * *
The Commander looked at Elwytha with her
flashing eyes and wide, challenging grin. Clearly, she had found
her ugliest dress for their meeting this morn. He had wondered if
one could top last night’s. And she had fashioned her hair in a way
sure to turn a man’s stomach.
Creative, the different ways she thought up
to displease him. It amused him. He had never met such a spunky,
entertaining female before. No doubt it would dismay her to learn
that her rebellious attempts to annoy only intrigued him more. He
found himself anticipating their morning together even more.
He grinned, and a frown wrenched her brows
together.
“ Does your hair pain you?”
he asked.
She frowned harder. “Why would it? It’s the
latest fashion. No doubt a brute such as yourself is ignorant of
such matters.”
He did not reply to this nonsense. “I ride
the perimeter this morn. You will come with me.”
Rebellion flared in her eyes. “I wish to go
nowhere with you. Leave me at my leisure.”
“ Your horse requires
exercise.”
She drew a quick breath. “My horse…is here? I
believed him sent home with the guard.”
He did not answer. Instead, he placed a hand
upon her small waist, urging her toward the doors. Elwytha
stiffened and moved speedily ahead, clearly revolted by the
contact. It didn’t surprise him, although his choice to touch her
had been deliberate. He wanted to accustom her to his touch, so
when their marriage night came, it would not terrify her.
However, if her response now was any
indication, much work would be required to accomplish the goal of
gentling her to his touch.
* * * * *
Much as the Commander’s demands displeased
Elwytha, the thought of riding her horse lifted her spirits. The
beast had been her close friend and companion since she was
eleven—ten long years. If only she could ride alone, without the
Commander’s unwelcome presence!
Never mind, she told herself, spying the
stables ahead. Her steps quickened. Perhaps on her steed she could
flee from him; at least, for a little while. Her horse was the
fleetest of foot in her brother’s stables.
Eagerness pumped in her, and at the stable
she darted to find her beloved steed. There! A white head. A whinny
of welcome.
Finally, a friendly face, horsy though it
was. She ran and flung her arms around him. “Sir Duke,” she
whispered, pressing her cheek into his white neck. Emotion choked
her. He turned his head, snuffling her hair. “I’m sorry. I have no
apple.”
With careful, loving hands she saddled her
horse and led him from the stable. The Commander waited astride a
great black steed. It stood a hand higher than her own, and
snorted, its nostrils flaring. The black eyes rolled, showing bits
of white. A magnificent animal.
Elwytha swung astride her horse, not caring
overly much that it was unladylike. Who had she to impress? And
she’d ridden thusly all of her life. The Commander showed no
surprise at
Learning to Kill: Stories