Free Suzanne Robinson by The Legend Page A

ground beneath the chest’ nut tree. Her arms wrapped around him, and he kissed his way from her lips to her cheek and down her neck. In the space between one breath and another he forgot any outrage that lingered within him. His fingers laced through curls softer than the velvet on a queen’s robe. He felt Honor begin to tremble as he kissed the hollow of her throat. She made a tiny noise that sounded as much like surprise as pleasure. Whatever it was it spurred hiscraving. His mind afire along with his body, he paid no attention when someone cried out.
    “My lady!”
    Something bashed Galen’s ear. “Ow!”
    He looked up to find a waiting woman standing over him.
    “You get off her at once, or I’ll box your ear again, sorcerer or no.”
    He looked down at Honor. She was hiding her face in the crook of his arm. The waiting woman drew back her fist, but Galen gave her a stern look and pulled back from Honor, noticing that her face had grown crimson. Feeling guilty for taking advantage of a widow, even if she was annoying, he gently released her and stood. He offered his hand, but that harpy of a waiting woman bustled between them and took charge of her mistress.
    “Be you well, me lady? Thanks be to God I returned before he—well, thank God is all I will say.”
    Galen watched the two as they walked across the ward. Honor had yet to speak, in spite of her maid’s solicitous questions. Pent-up sensations whipped through his body, and Galen set his jaw in an effort to gain mastery of them.
    “Turn back,” he whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear him. “Turn and look at me.”
    The two women kept walking. They neared the gatehouse, moved toward the shadows between the towers.
    Galen held himself still and murmured, “Look at me.”
    As she stepped into the shadows, he almost turned away, but at the last moment, Honor Jennings hesitated. He glimpsed the curve of her cheek as she turned, and their eyes met. Something hot and vital jumped across the space between them.
    Under his breath Galen murmured, “Honor.”
    Then she turned and disappeared into the darkness of the gatehouse. As if released from a spell Galen sagged, then dropped to his knees on the spot where they’d lain.
    “Dear God.” He stared at the earth, at the root that had tripped Honor. “You lackwit. You tried to take her in the dirt in the middle of the ward.”
    “Lordship?”
    Ralph was hovering over him. “Lordship, she just appeared with those dolts and began measuring the place for her manor house. I couldn’t stop them.”
    “Not now, Ralph.”
    “I told her you’d be back, but she heeded me not.”
    Galen jumped to his feet. “Quiet, I charge you. Or I’ll toss you in the moat.” He stomped off to find his horse. Ralph’s plaintiff cry resounded after him.
    “But the moat’s dry, lordship.”

S EVEN
 
    I n the solar at Castle Stafford Honor stared out an open window. It was a clear June morning, crisp with the coolness of winter’s lingering grip, but Honor wasn’t interested in the day’s beauty. She glared in the direction of Durance Guarde; things were not going well. Her latest attempt yesterday to force Galen de Marlowe out by building a house around him had been a disaster, and now there was more unhappy news. She glanced at the letter in her hand. It had come by messenger this morning. Her lovely new printer’s press sat at the bottom of the English Channel in the ship that had been carrying it. The Italian merchant who owned the ship had insured the cargo, but delivery of a new press would take many months, perhaps a year.
    “Mayhap old Leekshanks cursed the vessel,” Honor said aloud.
    Dagobert entered carrying a basket of mending, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Who, my lady?”
    “Never mind,” Honor said. “Jacoba said Father had a visitor. Who is it?”
    Dagobert set the basket down. “Oh, my lady, such a great lord. Came on a giant black destrier, he did. As I passed through the hall I saw