Free The Maiden and Her Knight by Margaret Moore

out?”
    â€œThey quarreled. He is fortunate he was only sent home, and not arrested for treason.”
    From what she had heard of Richard, she thought so, too, even as she wondered what the quarrel had been about. “You read all the licenses of the attendant knights, and apparently saw nothing amiss. Therefore, I assume there was no objection raised when he paid his fee to the court to participate in tournaments, and so is entitled to enter any he wishes. Perhaps he left the king of his own accord. Or have you made an error?”
    Rennick’s heavy, dark brown brows pulled together as he frowned. “You question me close, my lady. Is this the gratitude I get for helping your father?”
    â€œNaturally I am grateful, Baron,” she lied, quickly forcing another bogus smile onto her face. “It is just that I am trying to understand how this man came to be here if he is unworthy.”
    â€œI didn’t know about his past until recently.”
    â€œWho told you?”
    â€œDo you doubt what I say?”
    â€œNo. I am simply trying to grasp why he was worthy yesterday, but is not today and why, although he has every right to participate in the tournament, you believe it would be better for my father to risk being considered an ungracious and miserly host than to allow the man to stay a few days until his wound is mended.”
    â€œThere are more things to consider than that, my lady.” His knuckles grazed her cheek, but she felt no tingle of pleasure. She saw only his fist. “I suppose I cannot expect a woman to understand, beautiful and clever though she may be.”
    She gazed up into the baron’s face, felt his breath hot upon her and saw the lust shining in his blue eyes. How she wanted to spit into his face! To tell him exactly what she thought of him. But she couldn’t—he had too much power over them.
    So she must be a hypocrite. “Forgive me if I have inadvertently insulted you, Rennick. I thought my future husband would want to maintain the good opinion of the nobles of the realm. I didn’t mean for you to be angry with me.”
    With an eager, hungry expression, he roughly tugged her to him, and his voice seethed with lechery. “When you beg my forgiveness, how can I be angry?”
    He could have spouted poetry like a minstrel of the king’s court, and she would still be disgusted by his desire. As for being in his arms, a snake’s embrace would be more appealing. She splayed her hands on Rennick’s chest and subtly tried to back out of his hold. “We might be seen.”
    â€œSo what of that?” he muttered as he bent down to kiss her. She turned her face so that his mouth met her cheek. He pulled back and glared at her.
    She feared he was going to strike her, but whatever burst of heat his anger unleashed seemed to cool. “Stop this coyness, Allis. Everyone knows you will be mine one day. Our estates join, and so should we. I will protect you, and your family.” He smiled as his grip tightened. “I’ve waited long enough for you. I can’t wait much longer.” His gaze intensified, and she sawthe rage surging within him, strong enough perhaps to overcome his patience, and his lust. “You make me mad with jealousy.”
    Despair, like a dark cloud of fog coming down the river valley, began to blight the small blossom of happiness she had dared to feel when she was with Sir Connor. Worse, this could be the confirmation that they had been seen in the garden. If so, more than she and her family were in danger of suffering Rennick’s wrath; now she must protect Sir Connor, too, the man who had wanted to make her smile.
    She knew how, and although her very soul rebelled against the method, there was no alternative. “A lady likes to be pursued, and not have her affections taken for granted, Rennick,” she purred as she wound her arms about his neck, “otherwise she might do something to