Knight Errant Read Online Free PDF Page B

shoulder,” he instructed from where he stood beside her. Then he started walking. The horse paced along next to him.
    “Is he dead?”
    “Not if someone comes along to help him.”
    Anyone coming near the large man was more likely to finish the job and rob him for what little he had. Was she wrong not to insist they return to help? Wrong or no, she could not bring herself to even suggest the idea. She would simply have to pray for God’s mercy on them all.
    Still a bit nauseous, Juliana wished Sir Robert rode with her in his arms. She was chilled. She would welcome the heat of his body, and being held would be a comfort. Obviously he thought she needed no heat or comfort. She supposed he was right. She was whole and suffered more from nerves than any real injury.
    Before she could think more, they reached the square where the rest of the caravan waited. Robert lifted her from the saddle. Berthild and Gretle swarmed to comfort her. “Are you all right? We were so worried. What happened? Here, have some water.”
    Around them the caravan assembled itself.
    Robert spoke briefly with Berthild.
    “Come, Juliana.” The elder Beguine helped her to stand. “’Tis time to be on our way.”
    Juliana said a silent prayer of thanks. She’d acted foolishly. The violence done to her attacker horrified her, but honesty forced her to admit that she’d been very glad to have Sir Robert interfere.
    • • •
    Several days later, Juliana stepped out of the line of merchants and pilgrims trudging the sun-baked road toward Palermo. She wanted a few restful moments in contemplation and to give thanks for the quick healing of her arm and shoulder, as well as Sir Robert’s timely rescue from the beggars. A roadside shrine to the Madonna offered the perfect opportunity.
    “Hail Mary, full of grace . . .” The beat of approaching hooves sounded at her back. Sir Robert Clarwyn. None of the other travelers rode a horse.
    “Lady Juliana, surely you know by now not to leave the caravan?”
    She rose from her knees, giving him a tight-lipped smile. She was heartily tired of Robert’s constant harping on her safety. She’d been careless once. Did he imagine she could not learn better?
    “’Tis the Madonna’s shrine. I offer prayers, and the caravan passes close by.”
    Robert dismounted, keeping the reins in one gloved fist. Beyond him, the last of the caravan moved away.
    “I can see whose shrine this is,” he ground out. “But you continue to take foolish chances. You risk life and limb to save a child. You hazard your virtue and more by wandering alone among strangers. Now you place yourself within danger’s grasp, simply because you wish to pray.”
    His face grew red, and tendons bulged in his neck. His grip tightened on the reins, and his destrier sidled.
    Such visible restraint did him credit. But Juliana knew how easily control could slip.
    “Nay. I did not believe any would assault me here.”
    “Shrine or cathedral, even holy places are no defense against men with lust on their minds.” His flush subsided a bit, but his eyes continued to glitter.
    She drew back from that fiery gaze. She wished that his statement shocked her, but she knew, perhaps better than he, what sort of evil could lie in wait even within chapel walls. Had she not chased Fra Basti from the skirts of a young girl when he, the priest of their local church, should have been protecting those in his flock?
    “You are right. I should take greater care, but my mistake in that street lay in allowing myself to be cornered by several men. I have handled a lone man on my own before.”
    “Think you that numbers truly make a difference? I am a lone man. Could you
handle
me?” Dropping the reins to the ground, he walked forward, forcing her back against the shrine until her body was prisoned between the cool stone and Robert’s male heat. She could neither move nor fail to see his fury.
    Juliana gulped but smiled valiantly. “You would not dare,” she