Free Always by Lynsay Sands Page B

reins of her mount from her suddenly slack grip with the other. Urging his horse forward, he tossed the reins of the now riderless mare to Robert, then set off at a gallop. Rosamunde, emitting a surprised gasp, said nothing, much to his relief. He had no desire to make explanations or to argue. He was tired and likely to be much more so ere he reached Shambley.
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    Rosamunde swallowed and shifted carefully within her husband’s arms until she was comfortable. Part of her wanted to protest riding with him, wished to retain her mount, and with it her independence. The other part, mostly her bottom, was grateful. Her husband’s horse seemed to have a much smoother gait. It seemed Marigold was a very poor mount. On top of that, the jostling just seemed to irritate the residual tenderness shewas feeling between her legs.
    Recalling the promise to obey that she had made to her father, she decided that this was an instance where she should and relaxed, her back easing unconsciously against her new husband’s chest. It was not yet the supper hour, yet she was already terribly drained. She was tired enough to sleep as they rode, she realized with surprise, then recalled that she had been up through the night midwifing a mare. That explained her exhaustion. She could only hope that they would stop soon for the night, else she very much feared that she might fall asleep where she sat.
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    Aric slowed his horse at Robert’s whistle and waited for him to catch up. The trio had been riding for many hours now, and it was well past the supper hour. The sun was setting, night creeping in. His wife had been asleep since shortly after he had taken her onto his horse. She lay nestled in his arms, her head resting beneath his chin, her hands tangling themselves in his cloak. The dying rays of daylight were dancing in her fiery tresses, casting shadows on her ivory skin. She felt warm, like sunshine in his arms, though, and smelled faintly of roses.
    â€œShe did not last long.”
    Robert’s words drew Aric’s gaze to his friend. Weariness rimmed the man’s eyes and had brought a pallor to his face. Still, he smiled slightly as he commented, “If possible, she seems more exhausted than we are.”
    â€œSo it would seem,” Aric agreed, glancing down at Rosamunde’s slumbering face. Even their voices were not making her stir. She was as still as death. If it were not for the fact that he could feel the heat of her, he might have feared for her life. “It would seem that she has not inherited her father’s energetic fortitude.”
    â€œMayhap,” Robert murmured, then added, “But as I recall, she did tell our king that the mare had been in labor for two days and a night. Mayhap she was up through the night in attendance.”
    Aric nodded thoughtfully. That was quite possible, and would explain both her weariness and the costume she’d been wearing when first he’d seen her.
    â€œThink you we should stop for the night?”
    Aric glanced at his friend sharply, startled by the question. He had expected to ride out the night. His bride could sleep in his arms the entire way, if necessary. He knew Robert wished to return as swiftly as possible.
    â€œI, too, am tired,” his friend explained wryly. “Too many nights spent by my father’s sickbed, or worrying the twilight hours away pacing below stairs, combined with the two-day ride to the abbey, are beginning to wear on me. I am ready to drop off in my saddle as well, and I know I am not as alert as I should be to guard against attack.”
    Aric glanced down at his bride once more. Truth be told, he, too, was exhausted, and he supposed that he was not very alert either. A night of rest might be better than risking being attacked while they were both in such a depleted state. Glancing back at his friend, he nodded. “We shall stop at the first spot that looks a likely haven.”
    Smiling wearily,