Free Sweet Bea by Sarah Hegger

tense between them.
    A dog barked and she jumped. “I am not sure Henry will stop me. My father left him with only enough men for defense. Henry cannot risk being short of swords if Calder should come and he is sure Calder will come.”
    He heaved a sigh and let her ferment.
    “Please, Garrett.” She moved closer to him. “There is nobody else to whom I can turn.”
    “You ask much, sweeting.”
    “I know.” She pressed her hands against his chest.
    Lower. His skin prickled beneath her hand.
    “What would you have of me in return?” she whispered.
    “Nothing,” he declared valiantly. He almost made his gut churn with his performance. “You need only ask.”
    “Oh, Garrett.” Moisture glistened in the depths of her huge eyes.
    A heaping of gratitude was all he needed to serve her up to him. “Beatrice”—he stroked her cheek—“you know I can deny you nothing.”
    “You will do it?”
    “I will do it.”
    She released a long breath. Her smile near blinded him. “Thank you, Garrett. You will not regret this.”
    Nay. Garrett turned to dress. He would not regret this one jot.
    “Make haste,” Beatrice said. “I will meet you at the edge of the village.”
    Garrett hurried to meet Beatrice.
    A tall form emerged from the dark.
    Garrett stilled. The cur was back. He balanced on the balls of his feet. He wouldn’t find it as easy to take Garrett this time. People had mocked him when he wanted to train as a knight, but there were other ways of fighting. Garrett made it his business to be good at those.
    “At last.” Beatrice waved Garrett forward. “I want to be far away from Anglesea before first light.”
    This big brute was not from last night. “Who is he?”
    “Tom.” Beatrice dropped her head. “He is helping me. As you are.”
    She’d lied to him. Garrett balled his fists by his sides. Tom was tall, but Garrett liked his chances against him. Garrett felt the weight of the other man’s stare. He lifted a brow in challenge.
    Tom tensed.
    “What are you two doing?” Beatrice hurried between them. “Did you not hear me? We need to cover a large distance before it is discovered we are gone.”
    “You forgot to mention your friend.”
    “Did I?”
    “You know you did.”
    “Aye, well—” She dragged in a quick breath, ready to come up with more lies and half-truths.
    “If he goes, I go.” Tom spoke to Beatrice, but glared at Garrett.
    “Fine,” Garrett said. “Go without me.”
    “Nay.” Beatrice whirled toward him. “We cannot go without you. Tom does not know the way.”
    “What is he doing here, then?”
    “Protecting Beatrice.” Tom locked eyes with him. Not as stupid as he looked.
    “I can protect Beatrice.”
    Tom stepped toward him, his chest squared, arms braced. “Who will protect her from—”
    “There is no time for this.” Beatrice shoved at Tom’s chest. “You can both protect me. I will be doubly safe.”
    Garrett weighed his options. A heaven-sent opportunity on the one hand, a zealous boy on the other. The boy would be trouble. Garrett would lay his life on it. But at the first sign of an approaching army, Beatrice would be locked up in Anglesea and out of his reach. He motioned Beatrice to precede him. “After you, my lady.”
    “Right.” Beatrice clapped her hands. “Let us go before we are found here in the morning, still arguing amongst ourselves. Come along.”
    Garrett grit his teeth. He was going to rid her of her habit of leading him around like a trained bear.
    Beatrice approached a leggy, chestnut mare with a white blaze on her nose. “Mount up.”
    Garrett froze. A hulking brute stood beside two other horses. One leg was cocked and its head hung, as if it might expire from boredom at any moment.
    Beatrice lithely pulled herself onto her mount.
    “Ah, Beatrice.” He grabbed hold of his belt and twisted. “I think it would be better if we went by foot.”
    Her soft laughter floated toward him. “Why should we walk, when we can