Free A Knight's Reward by Catherine Kean Page B

keep tormenting me with your hands .
    Mentally sweeping away his inappropriate thoughts, he smiled down at her. “I am not a hunted criminal, if that is what you ask. I came to Clovebury because I was ordered here by my good friend and lord, Geoffrey de Lanceau.”
    “ The Lord de Lanceau? Who lives with his lady wife and son at Branton Keep?”
    “The same.” Dominic could not contain a proud grin. “As you probably know, Geoffrey is lord of most of Moydenshire.”
    Awe glistened in her eyes. As well as an inkling of . . . dread?
    “So,” she said, “you are his spy.”
    Dominic nodded.
    She exhaled a shaky breath. Her fingers felt damp against his skin. Ah. He had startled her with his revelation. Knowing he was a man of great importance, she viewed him differently. She probably worried about botching the bandaging.
    He must reassure her immediately. “I am still the same Dominic you knew long ago,” he said, “despite my allegiance to de Lanceau.”
    She did not look at all convinced. After tying the bandage, she reached for another. “If I may ask, what brings you to Clovebury? Did you come to investigate the recent spate of robberies?”
    A frown touched Dominic’s brow. “I did not know of such robberies.”
    Shaking her head, Gisela continued her bandaging. “Many of the shop owners fear their premises will be broken into and their goods destroyed. The break-ins usually happen at night, and are committed either by local thugs or vagrants. The potter’s shop is among those recently vandalized.” Raising her gaze, she said, “He is a good friend of the baker’s.”
    “A good reason, then, for him to distrust strangers,” Dominic said.
    Surprise widened her gaze before she again lowered her lashes, golden against her fair skin. When her fingers touched his torso, and an answering shiver broke through him, he said, “My quest for de Lanceau could well be connected to these robberies. However, I do not know yet. I have been tasked, you see, to discover who stole Geoffrey’s shipment of cloth sent to him by river.”
    “What kind of cloth?”
    “Silks. Bolts of the finest, most luxurious fabric . . .”
    His voice trailed off. She gaped up at him with a most curious expression: a touching blend of suspicion and dismay.
    Her mouth, parted on a silent gasp, snapped shut. Blinking hard, she again looked at his bandages. But, from her distant gaze, he guessed her thoughts were not on this moment, but elsewhere.
    “Gisela?”
    “Mmm?”
    He caught hold of her upper arms. She stiffened. Her hands, about to sweep the linen around his back again, dropped to his torso. The warmth of her fingers pressed to his skin . . .
    He must not allow himself to be distracted.
    “Do you know about the stolen silks?”
    A sharp little laugh broke from her. “Me? Why would I?”
    “You are a tailor. You earn your living from making garments.”
    Her gaze fell to her hands, curled against his chest. She gnawed her lip again. “Dominic—”
    “I only ask, Gisela, because a client may have asked you about sewing garments from silk.” He gently squeezed her arms. “Not because I suspect you are involved with stealing Geoffrey’s shipments or any other wrongdoing.”
    A shaky breath rushed between her lips. She slowly nodded. “If I seem . . . shocked,” she said, each word spoken with care, “’tis because I hate to think there are folk in this town—a place I consider my home—who would steal from Lord de Lanceau.” Her throat moved with a swallow. “I cannot believe it.”
    “’Tis the truth.”
    Her body quivered in his hold, proof of how much the thought unnerved her. “Is that why you were disguised as a peddler? To try to find the thieves?”
    Dominic nodded. “Geoffrey decided ’twas the best approach for now, rather than send out a contingent of men-at-arms. The thieves might run, then, with the silks—making it more difficult to find the stolen cloth. ’Tis vital to recover all of the missing