Free Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) by Kathryn Le Veque Page B

prospects?”
    Chloë shrugged. “None that she
approves of,” she said. “Father told her that she could approve of her husband
but, so far, she had not approved of anyone because she is smarter than most
men. She does not want a husband who cannot match her wit. Moreover, Father
wants her to marry someone of rank because of our royal bloodlines, but she
wants to marry someone she can tolerate, rank or no.  They do not agree but my
father will do a she wishes in the end.”
    Keir’s eyebrows lifted. “Royal
bloodlines?”
    Chloë  nodded.  “My mother is a
daughter of Henry the Third.”
    Keir was shocked. “Your
grandfather was King Henry?”
    Again, she nodded as if
completely unimpressed. “She is a daughter of the king from his liaison with a
woman of minor nobility.”
    “And your father? Surely he must
have bloodlines in him as well.”
    “He does,” she told him. “His
father was Viscount Narbonne, a title that passed to his older brother. Along
with lands in France, my father owns all of the land from Exelby east to the
Pennines, north to Langthorne and south to Ripon. Why do you think Ingilby
wants so badly to make a match? He will be an extremely influential and wealthy
landowner.”
    Keir was still lingering on her
surprising royal relations that she seemed so casual about. “But Cassandra is
older and presumably the heiress,” he pointed out. “Why did he not seek her
hand?”
    Chloë turned up her nose.
“Because Cassie does not like him just as I do not,” she sniffed. “Father told
her she could choose her own groom to make her happy and she will.”
    Keir wriggled his eyebrows in
disapproval. “He should have never given her permission to approve her
husband.  I can already see she is a woman accustomed to speaking her mind. Not
many men will tolerate that trait.”
    Chloë shrugged, only noticing at
that moment that her feet and the entire bottom of her shift were caked with
mud.  She groaned softly.
    “Oh, bother,” she gingerly
touched the hem of her shift. “Look how dirty I am.”
    Keir was in the process of
untying his tunic as he glanced over at her. “That is why I sent for hot
water,” he told her. “It should be here momentarily.”
    Miserable, exhausted, she sat
there wrapped up in her cloak, shivering, as Keir proceeded to pull off his
tunic and toss it into a corner.  Chloë was looking at her hands, glancing up
at the man to suddenly notice that he was naked from the waist up. After she
got past the shock of seeing his magnificent nude chest, she was very
embarrassed. Startled, she bolted to her feet and scurried to the door.
    Keir heard her feet hit the
ground, turning just as she reached the chamber door.  He called to her.
    “Where are you going?”
    Chloë paused, her hand on the
latch, turning to look at him with a guarded expression.  “You… you are
dressing, my lord,” she explained haltingly. “I should not be here.”
    He looked down at himself, not
quite seeing her problem. “I am not troubled by it.  You may stay.”
    Chloë dared to look at the man’s
naked chest; he was broad and muscular, with the muscles of his stomach clearly
defined.  She could see all of them, rippling across his tight belly.  His arms
were massive, his neck thick.  In all, he was a striking example of male
perfection, something that made her cheeks flush hot and her hands sweat. She
began to think that it was extremely improper for her to be here, alone with
him.  Confused, embarrassed and titillated, she lowered her gaze and opened the
door.
    “I cannot,” she said as she quit
the chamber.
    The only other option was the
room with the nightmare child.  She hadn’t taken two steps out of Keir’s
chamber when she came to a halt, her big brown eyes wide on the dark and
shadowed room beyond.  As she stood there and gazed into the room as if it was
going to jump out and bite her, she could feel a body behind her.  Without even
looking, she knew it was Keir. She