Free Rebellious Love by Maura Seger Page A

people who showed themselves quite willing to cooperate with him, given the single proviso that he not harm their beloved mistress.
    And all that was due to the lady he could not bring himself to face. All the last week, since that debacle in his bedchamber, he had studiously avoided her. Yet not for an instant did he manage to think of anything else. Beautiful, seductive, tantalizing Verony haunted him day and night. In the keep, he was eternally conscious of her graceful movements, the scent of her perfume, her soft laughter as she moved among the servants, competently overseeing every task.
    Outside in the fields, where he finally sought refuge, her name was on all lips. He could no more force her from his mind than he could stop his body's incessant yearning for her. Having recovered from bis embarrassing failure to compromise her, he was increasingly desperate to repair his botched proposal.
    His men sensibly kept away from him. His temper was strained to breaking and he was liable to lash out at the slightest provocation. Only Sir Lyle maintained a patient watch over him, unobtrusively seeing to it that he ate and slept regularly. In this he was aided by Verony, who quietly instructed the kitchens to prepare Curran's favorite dishes, added fresh clothes to his wardrobe and did a multitude of other small things for his comfort.
    Between the old knight and the young girl a ready friendship had sprung up. They understood each other perfectly without any need for words, and they worked together smoothly out of love for Curran. His manor might have been the happiest of places, but for his own aching frustration.
    Perhaps he could go fight somewhere, Curran thought hopefully, only to immediately reject that idea. He could hardly flee his own lands because an exquisite woman held him in thrall. But neither could he do what his body demanded and take her to his bed. In all honor, she deserved better.
    The village elder coughed discreetly, recalling his lord's attention to matters more immediately at hand. "The children, sir, are waiting to welcome you."
    A cluster of boys and girls, briefly freed from their duties in the fields and workshops, stood before him. Under the proud eyes of their parents, they chorused thanks for the meat Curran and his men were supplying to the village. Recognizing that Verony's claim of great hunger among his people was not exaggerated, he. had set himself to remedy that condition as quickly as possible. Dozens of deer, boars and smaller game fell before their lances, some designated for the manor kitchens but most shared among the serfs.
    Already a bloom of health could be seen on faces that had been pallid. Everyone moved with greater energy, the children in particular. They found the constant chores no hindrance to their eager games, their happy shrieks penetrating even Curran's gloom.
    He smiled at them indulgently, encouraging the little girl chosen to offer the villagers' gift. In a tiny voice that gained strength as she realized the lordly giant would not harm her, she said: '"Twas carved by my father, sir, from wood my brothers found. My mother did the polishing, but I helped. ..." Small hands thrust the cloth-wrapped package at him.
    Curran opened it carefully. He was prepared to graciously accept whatever might be inside, but the first sight of the villagers' offering took his breath away. The statue of a woman glowed warmly in the sunlight. So precise was the work that the beautiful features, the set of the head, even the carriage of the slender, proud body were all unmistakable. The peasant artist had perfectly captured the face and form of Lady Verony.
    "Do you like it?" the little girl whispered, daring greatly.
    "Y-yes," Curran managed to get out. Unconsciously he turned the statue in his hands, almost as though he was caressing the woman herself. An idea began to form in the back of his mind,
    "I hope you don't object, my lord," the village elder said cautiously. He thought he