Free The Knight and the Seer by Ruth Langan Page B

him to admit it, he needed this odd little creature. She was, to him, a calm port in a sea swirling with storms of lies and deceit.
    He lowered her hands, released them, and took a step back. “There is more to the tale my father told you.”
    “More?”
    “Aye. That same day my mother gave me this dirk.” Again he touched the jeweled hilt that winked in the sunlight. “It belonged to my mother’s father, and she told me that he had been a most kind and generous laird of his clan. She believed that, as the son of a laird, and the grandson of two, I would one day be a leader of my people.” His voice roughened. “This means much to me, because the one who gave it to me is always close in my heart. It has remained on my person since the day she gave it to me.” With his hand on the hilt he added, “I go now to the village, for I must tell the people that I accept the title they have thrust upon me.”
    “That will make your father and mother most happy, my lord.”
    He tried not to flinch at her use of that title. It would take a great deal of time to adjust his thinking of himself as laird of his clan instead of merely a warrior. “Is there anything I might bring you?”
    She shook her head. “I require nothing.”
    She could feel him studying her before he turned away. After opening the door he turned back. A hint of a smile touched his lips. “You won’t try any of your…spells while I’m gone?”
    She’d just begun to relax. Now the awkwardness was back. “Have no fear, my lord. I wouldn’t want to risk destroying your castle after all the work the villagers put into restoring it.”
    He was across the room in quick strides. He caught her hand between both of his. “You misunderstand. It isn’t my home I’m worried about, my lady. It’s you.”
    The fact that he would be worried over her had her blushing furiously. She was so startled by his concern, she could only stare. “I’ll be fine.”
    “Aye. You will. Very fine indeed.” He studied the high color, loving the way her lashes fluttered as she avoided his eyes.
    For a moment she thought he might kiss her lips once more. Her heart actually fluttered at the thought. Instead, he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed first one, then the other, lingering over them as though she were a great lady.
    A series of tremors sliced down her spine, leaving her feeling oddly disoriented.
    “My lord…”
    “My lady.” He lifted his head and captured her chin in his hand, brushing a butterfly kiss over her lips.
    She felt the quick rush of heat, and the way a pulse fluttered in her throat. What amazing powers he had, that he could so affect her with the simple press of his mouth on hers.
    When he lifted his head, he stared deeply into her eyes before releasing her and striding swiftly out the door.
    Minutes later she heard the sound of his horse’s hoof beats in the courtyard. And then silence closed in around her.
    She pressed a hand to her heart, wondering at the way it thundered. She could still taste him on her lips.
    How was it that such a simple thing as two mouths touching could create such a storm inside her?
    She dragged in several deep breaths, wondering at the sudden feeling of light-headedness. She felt as she often did when one of her spells went wrong.
    Squaring her shoulders, she decided that what she needed was to be busy. She would use this time alone to have a long visit with those who lay in the garden under their fresh mounds of earth. Perhaps it would be best if she began chronicling their requests, so as not to forget any. After all, this was so new to her, she was certain there would be plenty of mistakes made along the way. Especially in light of her history of missteps.
    Now if only she could keep her mind on her work, and away from a certain dark, dangerous warrior.
    “I was the cook at Ross Abbey for two score years, my lady.”
    Though the woman standing in the garden atop her grave appeared no more than ten and eight,