Free The Knight and the Dove by Lori Wick Page A

simply stared at Bracken. He returned the gaze, taking in the lovely blush in her cheeks and her bright, serious eyes. Their height difference was lessened in this stance, and for just a moment no one spoke. Bracken turned in profile to her and offered his arm. Megan took it.
    “Did you have a pleasant afternoon, Megan?” Bracken asked as they crossed to the tables.
    “Yes, Lord Bracken, thank you.”
    “My aunt has arrived. I would like you to meet her.”
    “Very well.” Megan sounded disinterested, but inside she was tense. She soon learned there was no need.
    As soon as they neared, Louisa turned, a warm smile lighting her handsome features. Megan saw in an instant where Bracken inherited his dark coloring. Louisa’s hair was as dark as her nephew’s, with just a hint of gray at the temples. Her lashes and brows were equally as dark, and the eyes regarding her were a deep brown. The older woman now reached for both of Megan’s hands.
    “Megan, this is my Aunt Louisa,” Bracken spoke. “Aunt Louisa, this is my betrothed, Megan, daughter to Vincent of Stone Lake.”
    “Hello, Megan,” she said still holding Megan’s work-rough hands in her own soft ones. “I’m so pleased to meet you.”
    “Bracken told me you were called away from London ahead of time. I hope my presence has not interfered in any way with your plans.”
    “Not in the least, my dear. I’m glad to be of service.”
    “Come,” Bracken broke in. “Our food is served.”
    They all retired to the tables then, Bracken at the head, Megan to his right, and Aunt Louisa to his left. Lyndon sat by Louisa, and another knight, Kendrick by name, took a place on the bench next to Megan.
    Bracken and Megan shared a trencher. Bracken was the consummate gentleman, seeing that all the best cuts of meat went to Megan’s side of the wooden platter. Conversation flowed freely among Bracken and the others, but Megan had little to say. Bracken’s eyes lingeredon her for most of the meal, and by the time they finished, he felt he would do anything to see her smile.
    As it was, he was about to get his wish. They had just stood when Clive, another of Bracken’s vassals, announced Vincent’s presence. Megan excused herself and moved with a calm face to the main doors of the castle, Bracken at her heels. She continued to walk sedately until she spotted him coming up the path, whereupon she ran the last six yards and quite literally threw herself into her father’s arms.
    Vincent hugged her close. When he released her to put one arm around her shoulders, Bracken, who was now upon them, was able to see her smiling face. It took his breath away.

     
    “More wine,” Bracken instructed a serving woman and then sat quietly as Vincent and his men ate their fill. In order to give them privacy, Megan and Louisa had retired to the south hearth, but there had been little talk until now. Bracken felt the time had come for him to explain. Vincent had not seemed at all upset, but Bracken knew by the way he greeted his daughter that there must be much on his mind.
    “I want to tell you of your men, my lord.”
    Vincent forestalled him with a hand. “We saw their graves. I thank you for seeing to the burial. Can you tell me what happened?”
    Bracken shook his head. “I know little. Megan said they died saving her.”
    “She was unharmed?” Vincent’s gaze grew intense.
    “It would seem so.”
    “And once she arrived here?”
    Bracken drew a deep breath. “She was not harmed, but neither was she well taken care of.”
    Vincent began to scowl as Bracken filled him in about Megan’s work in the creamery and eating and sleeping in the keep.
    “I’m sorry, Lord Vincent, I was not here, but I still take full blame since I did not make provisions for the possibility of an early arrival.”
    To Bracken’s amazement, Vincent did not seem distressed. Instead his eyes suddenly lit with good humor.
    “You say she slept in a stall?”
    “Yes, Lord Vincent.”
    Vincent