Free The Promise by T. J. Bennett Page B

I may have use for it on my journey.”
    “Genoa, is it? I had heard you were leaving, but I was not aware of the destination.” After sticking his own sword into the ground, he retrieved her finely honed blade. He examined the workmanship and wiped the mud off, handed it to her across his forearm, hilt first. His searing gaze lifted from the mirrored steel and met hers across its length.
    The move displayed his trust—or perhaps assumption—that she would not attempt to use the blade on him again. Although she had no wish to harm him, her fingers tightened on the hilt. He raised an inquiring brow as she took the blade from him; he followed it with a smile that played strange rhythms on her heart.
    “Do you intend to cut your way through me?” he asked. “Because I warn you, that is what it will take for me to leave your side.”
    Apprehension lanced through her. Did he know of the curse, or did he prophesy inadvertently? She stared at him for a long moment, trying to determine which it might be. His gaze touched her face, lingering on her mouth, and she knew he remembered their kiss.
    Before she could respond, they were interrupted by the arrival of Inés, who looked out-of-sorts, and Fritz, who looked perfectly enamored. Fritz carried a bedroll, several twine-wrapped bundles, and Günter’s cittern. He juggled the weight from side to side while his glance flickered repeatedly to Inés’ legs. Inés had tied her stockings with two red ribbons just above her shapely knees today, which peeked out of her hitched-up calf-length skirts every time she took a step.
    “There you are!” Inés called out to Günter, and her tone sounded faintly accusatory. “Where have you been for so long?”
    Günter turned his beautiful green eyes on Inés.
    “Had I known you wanted me with such eagerness, I would have come at once,” he offered, his smile the ultimate of charm.
    The flustered woman’s cheeks became pink beneath Günter’s regard. Fritz’s eyes narrowed and a dull flush rose up his neck. It seemed as though he would say something, but he bit his lip and looked down instead. Alonsa felt certain her own eyes had turned green with jealousy, and she glared at Inés, wondering if she had ever lain with Günter the way she had with Martin.
    “I brought your gear, Günter,” Fritz announced, and unceremoniously cast it upon the ground.
    The corners of Günter’s smile rose and fell as though he struggled to prevent an outright laugh.
    “Thank you,” he said, his simple words proving he intended to ignore the deliberate insult. “Now, if you would just place those carefully in the cart for me, the Señora and I will be on our way.”
    “What?” Alonsa squeaked.
    “Genoa, I believe you said?” He went on without awaiting her answer … not that she would have been able to speak regardless, so stunned was she.
    “I suppose we may find a reverend there who can be trusted to perform a simple wedding. Still, I would have preferred to have the announcement made in my own home of Wittenberg first,” he said with a heavy sigh.
    He threw back his cloak and shrugged his shoulders.
    “Pity. Ah, well, Genoa it is, then. Of course, if you insist on a priest, we may have some difficulty convincing him I am a faithful Catholic, but I’ll risk damnation for you.” He examined the cart with a critical eye. “I’d even be willing to locate a cleric here in Lombardy if you did not wish to travel so far, and the journey wouldn’t be nearly as dangerous. We could use the extra time for our honeymoon.”
    He glanced at her and winked, ignoring her drop-jawed stare.
    “But I will not deny you anything you wish,” he finished, and went to assist a newly mobilized Fritz in putting his bundles into her cart.
    Her cart.
    “What madness is this?” Alonsa demanded after staring open-mouthed at him for some moments.
    Günter had his back to her. As he fussed with the cart, he arranged his bundles beside hers and retied the ropes.