Awakening His Lady Read Online Free PDF Page B

was on her knees sobbing, searching through the rushes. The ring was just a material thing, made precious by a once important moment in her life—and yet she could not bear the thought of living one day without it.
    Her effort futile, she wiped the tears from her cheek with the heel of her hand. Mother Mary, she missed the comfort of her brown veil and gray dress. After tonight, the peace she was certain she would find at Rotham Abbey was all the more appealing.
    â€œYou dropped this, my lady?”
    That voice.
    That soft, deep voice fell upon her like the warmth of the setting summer sun.
    She froze, unable to speak. She merely looked up to see the masked face of the dark knight, of the man who was surely Thomas peering down at her, his hand extended with her ring in his palm.
    Thomas!
    He smiled. “I believe this belongs to you, Lady Meriom.”
    Meriom attempted to clamp her mouth shut, aware that she sat there with her lips parted, as if she meant to speak but had suddenly been struck dumb. He set the ring in her hand, his warm fingers grazing her palm. She shuddered. Why did he not reveal himself? Did he think she would forget those beautiful lips, that strong square chin, that mat of dark hair that curled at the base of his neck?
    What kind of fool did he think she was?
    â€œMight I be of some assistance—again?” he asked. “You ran off during the dance as if you’d seen an ogre.”
    Her fingers curled over the ring and she rose. “No ogre, just a ghost, mayhap,” she quipped, forcing a tone of detachment. “But I thank you, sir, for my ring. I am tired. ’Tis time I go to bed.”
    He caught her by the elbow. “I will escort you, then. ’Tis not safe for a lady to wander ’round the castle alone in the dark.”
    She cast a glance from the corner of her eye. “Am I safe with you, good sir? You are a stranger, a guest at my father’s feast, arrived too late to be announced.”
    Not waiting for an answer, she turned and climbed the steps leading to her private apartment. Thomas walked beside her, so close she feared he could hear her heart hammering.
    â€œYou need not fear me, Lady Meriom. You are the lady of the house, your father’s noble daughter. Guards would come running if you called.” He smiled, his white teeth shining in the shadows.
    â€œHow is it that you know my name, and I do not know yours?” She walked slowly, noticing that he limped, giving him time to catch up with her.
    â€œI asked a servant when I saw you dancing.” His voice was tight.
    Meriom halted. So he’d seen her dance beneath the mistletoe with Lord Leeman and thought her besotted? Could it be that Thomas was jealous?
    Thomas offered her his arm, as if he thought her too fatigued to walk without him. She rested her open hand on his sleeve, praying he could not feel her trembling. Would that she could rip off his mask and cover his face with kisses.
    â€œAh yes, I danced with Lord Leeman,” she spoke softly, the rush torch at her apartment door sputtering its last light. “He is a worthy suitor, and wanted to kiss me beneath the mistletoe, but I fear I have offended him tonight.”
    â€œHow so?” By the twist of his beautiful lips and the spark in his eye, Thomas was bemused.
    Meriom slowed and held him by his sleeve.
    â€œI declined. I am a poor kisser, my lord,” she whispered, imparting seriousness to her tone.
    Thomas cleared his throat. “Mayhap I could help. Show me how you do it—our kiss under the mistletoe was too brief, and I’ll suggest improvements.” He steered her around and placed her back against the wall.
    Meriom quirked her eyebrow. What game was this?
    She shook her head, refusing to get angry, determined to play this scene as he appeared to want to play it.
    He shrugged. “Let me demonstrate how a man would like to kiss a woman, then you can show me how a woman thinks it should be