Free Knight of Pleasure by Margaret Mallory Page B

could never understand how much she suffered. She did not want him to.
    “Come,” she said, taking his arm, “I will show you the way to the stables. Then I want you to meet Sir Robert, the kind man
     who has been looking after me.”
    She paused to lean her head against his shoulder and smile up at him. “I am so very glad you are here.”
    “He certainly took his time in coming.”
    The unexpected voice came from behind them. Isobel whirled around to find Stephen Carleton standing a few feet away, hands
     on hips, looking anything but his usual good-humored self.
    “What kept you?” Carleton demanded, his eyes hard on Geoffrey. “Your delay has been a grave insult to this lady.”
    She’d never seen Carleton angry before. With temper sparking in his eyes, he looked different. Dangerous.
    He turned his searing gaze on her. “I did not take you to be such a forgiving woman.”
    “I am sorry if I have offended you in some way,” Geoffrey said, drawing Carleton’s attention back to him. “I came as soon
     as I received the news my sister was here.”
    “Your sister?” The expression on Carleton’s face showed first surprise, then delight.
    “I thought you were that unworthy Frenchman of hers,” he said, coming over and clapping Geoffrey on the back. “Welcome to
     Caen! I am Stephen Carleton, a friend of your sister’s.”
    “You thought he was—” She choked on her words as anger, hot and dark, rose in her chest. “You thought I would embrace a man
     I did not know in the middle of the courtyard!”
    “Better in a busy courtyard than a quiet place,” Carleton said with a wink. “Luckily, I did not see you embrace him, or your
     brother would be dusting off his backside—if he could get up at all.”
    She wanted to slap him. “What concern is it of yours?”
    Geoffrey, ever the peacemaker, said in a soothing voice, “He was only being chivalrous, trying to protect you.” He took hold
     of her arm and began pulling her away. “Come, Issie, it was a hard ride, and I’ve not eaten in hours.”
    When she glared at Carleton over her shoulder, he blew her a kiss. The man was maddening.

    What madness, Stephen asked himself, had taken hold of him? When he walked through the keep’s gate and saw her clinging to
     a stranger’s arm, her face lit by a rare, radiant smile, he stormed across the yard intent on beating the man to a bloody
     pulp.
    Good God, he could hardly credit it.
    Nay. He knew damn well what made him do it. Mindless, raging jealousy. He thought the man was de Roche and that Isobel was
     looking at him the way she looked at Stephen the day they met.
    And he simply could not bear it.
    He did not want to contemplate what that meant. Regardless, he intended to get to know her brother.

    Isobel drew her cloak close against the early morning chill. “I was afraid you would forget your promise to practice with
     me before breakfast,” she said, squeezing Geoffrey’s arm.
    “And risk my big sister’s wrath?”
    They walked in companionable silence, their feet crunching on the frozen ground.
    When Geoffrey spoke again, his tone was serious. “Have you been going out alone, Isobel?”
    There was only one person who could have told him. “Did that Stephen Carleton say something to you?”
    “Aye, Sir Stephen gave me quite a lecture on the risks,” he said, “and on my duties as a brother.”
    “How dare he!”
    “There was no mistaking the man’s message, but he was quite cordial,” Geoffrey said. “He is an engaging fellow. Both he and
     his nephew seem to be good men.”
    She snorted her disagreement. “Stephen Carleton lacks all seriousness of purpose.”
    “He seemed quite serious about wishing to kill me yesterday,” Geoffrey said, fighting a smile.
    She remembered how dangerous Stephen had looked. Dangerous, and impossibly handsome.
    “A vile temper does not improve a frivolous man.” She sounded insufferable, but she couldn’t stop herself. “He is, by all
     accounts,