Tori Phillips by Lady of the Knight Read Free Book Online

sake!”
    Andrew checked her second lunge. “A lady is led in a docile and demure fashion with downcast looks.”
    She blew a damp curl out of her eyes and glared at the pigheaded gentleman. “Told ye afore, haint a lady.”
    He planted his feet on his red-and-blue patterned rug, and gripped her arms. She lifted her chin and glared at him.
    The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled in a maddeningly delightful way. “Attend upon this most important point, my dear. If you desire to partake of the delectable victuals that my good squire has procured for our enjoyment, you will act like a lady. That is my pleasure. Tis what I paid good coin for. Now, what say you?”
    Rosie suppressed her immediate inclination to tell him exactly what she thought of his delusions. Instead, she decided to humor his whims while the food was still warm. She drew herself up and tossed her wild hair over her shoulders. “Then lead me to yon table, my lord, if that’s what pleases ye. But, prithee, do it quicklike.”
    Sir Andrew beamed at her as if she had just said something clever. “Your dulcet voice is a delight to my ears, even if your words are a bit rough around the edges. Let us repair to our feast— my lady.” He cocked his head and grinned at her.
    Rosie almost corrected him again, but she closed her mouth at the last split second. This stubborn lord would only argue the matter further while the food congealed in its sauces. Andrew led her to a folding chair, then he stepped behind it and gestured for her to sit. Rosie eyed the sway-bottom leather seat and wondered if it would fold up with her inside of it.
    She twisted her fingers behind her back. “I do not know what ye want me to do.” She eyed the tempting dishes arrayed before her.
    He gave her another one of those melting smiles. “You thank me very prettily, and allow me to push the chair closer to the table.”
    Rosie cleared her throat. “Thank ye kindly, my lord.” She didn’t move. Her mouth watered.
    Behind her, Jeremy snickered.
    Andrew leaned over the back of the chair and whispered, “Rosie, you are supposed to slide in front of it and sit down when you feel the seat touch the back of your knees.”
    Rosie wiggled her nose as she regarded the flimsylooking thing. She didn’t trust Sir Andrew. This could be a daft prank. He would pull the chair out from under her and laugh when she landed on her bum. She didn’t trust him an inch. He grinned at her and waited. No one uttered a word. The lure of the tantalizing supper grew stronger. Rosie’s stomach growled out loud.
    “Trust me,” his lips mouthed the words.
    Flinging her usual caution to the wind, Rosie took a deep breath and did as he had instructed. To her surprised delight, he seated her exactly as he had said he would. Once she was in place, he went around to the other side of the table where Jeremy seated his master in similar fashion. Rosie reached out to wrench a plump leg off the golden chicken, but Sir Andrew clasped her hand in midair.
    He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “We say grace first and thank the good Lord for this bounty.”
    Rosie snorted. “Why? He never did cook it.”
    Jeremy gasped while Sir Andrew merely raised hisbrows at this bit of blasphemy. She curled her fingers into a fist to keep herself from attacking the chicken.
    “Have you never prayed before a meal, Rosie?” her patron asked.
    She decided to tell the truth. This peacock of a gentleman should learn something about poverty. “Twas more like a-praying for a meal, and the Lord did not see fit to listen much to me.”
    Sir Andrew’s face lost some of its mirth. His eyes glistened. “Then we shall make our thanksgiving mercifully brief.” He folded his hands and bowed his head without waiting to see if Rosie did the same. “Lord God, we thank you for this food and for the good company who share it. Amen,” he murmured quickly.
    “Amen,” Rosie breathed with relief. She reached for the chicken leg