Free If My Heart Could See You by Sherry Ewing Page A

changed afore her eyes, making him appear as though several years younger than the age of a score and eight she guessed him to be.
    His armor was molded to his skin and showed the ripples of his stomach muscles like a Roman gladiator’s, and she had the notion that beneath the metal frame his form would be just as true. His body was all powerful, exuding pure vigorous physical strength from years of training and fighting to stay alive. Amiria could only admire his dedication to exercising himself, his guards, and the male members of the MacLaren clan.
    As she continued reflecting on the man who stood beside her, she came to the shocking realization she had watched him most intently for these past many fortnights. When the hatred and loathing she had first felt for Lord Dristan, relating to the death of her father and clansmen, had subsided, she could not say. He trained relentlessly; there could be no doubt of that, she mused. However, she had also been privy to times when he listened to the village people who came afore their lord to pass judgment on matters of dispute amongst themselves. She saw his anger rise many a time, but she also concluded he was fair in dealing with all under his protection. There could be no question in anyone’s mind he guarded well all within his care.
    Amiria, had begun to perform duties of squire, although Dristan seemed, for the most part, more concerned with furthering her training with a sword than teaching her other knightly responsibilities. She had given a sigh of relief more times than she could count and was thankful she had not been ordered to perform more menial tasks, bringing her into closer contact to Dristan within his chamber. She had been asked to join him, in what was now his solar, whilst he taught Patrick his letters several times. She had wisely declined, stating she had other matters to attend to. ’Twas better to keep herself, at a distance or in the shadows, than to have her true gender be found out when not in her armor.
    Perchance, ’twas just such a night, whilst Dristan sat afore the hearth in the Great Hall, that had begun her heart’s downfall. She had been hovering in the shadows of the stairway and watched as the flames of the fire brought out the richness of his hair. He had been idly strumming the strings on his lute when he had begun to sing an all too familiar tune. The deep rich vibrato of his voice called to her soul and had sent her heart beating rapidly in a sorrowful reminder that she was indeed a woman dressed as a boy. As she still pondered that evening, her cheeks flamed beneath her helmet and where her thoughts had taken her.
    The dark green of his tunic had been slightly open at the neck, and she had glimpsed his furred chest whilst watching the muscles of his arms as they hugged the instrument to his chest. She could almost imagine the feel of his warm calloused hands touching her instead of the lute. Even from her hiding place, she wanted to go closer to him in order to see the blue specks, usually hidden in the grey of his eyes, sparkle from the candlelight of the room.
    Devilishly handsome could only be her description of him. For all his reputation of fierceness and usual gruff exterior, she observed a softer side to his disposition. He may not have shown this side often, but ’twas there all the same, if one cared to take notice.
    The sound of clanging steel ringing in her ears brought her out of her reminiscences with a jolt. Amiria shook her head, as if to clear the memories and the thought that madness must surely have overtaken her to have such imaginings coursing through her head. Better to concentrate on pleasing her lord with her sword arm than thinking on him in a womanly way. She had already witnessed Sabina’s growing infatuation of Dristan with her constant fawning over the man. ’Twas wiser to exceed acting the boy and be praised for her masculine deeds than to receive the rejection her lord was wont to give her feminine