Lindsay Townsend Read Online Free PDF

did. “I fear not.”
    Had she trembled then? “You have no need to fear. May
I take you home, Isabella? That is, if you will admit to me where you live?”
    She nodded once, then worried at her lower lip, her
bright eyes as blue as cornflowers. No longer shaken, she still looked
surprised, but then she could not be any more surprised than he himself. He had
not done this kind of jesting for over two years, when he had gently teased
Cecilia. For an instant he felt disloyal, yet where was the harm? “Show me,” he
coaxed.
    ****
    Stephen was not smiling. yet nor did he frown. He
looked patient and quiet, his black eyebrows faintly raised as if he guessed
and was amused by her confusion. “Point my horse, then,” he said, while she was
wondering what to say. When she nodded so he would not consider her entirely
witless he grinned, his teeth a flash of white in his tanned face. She felt him
urge his horse forward and the narrow shop fronts changed as they plodded on,
passing a few stragglers in festive demon masks.
    Be witty, amusing, available , threatened Sir William in her head, all traits that
had been crushed in her by Richard. What would amuse a royal armourer, who
mixed with princes and kings? But he likes me . She knew that from the
way he held her, from his swift admiring glances whenever he thought she was
looking elsewhere, and from his kiss. She wanted to bring her fingers to her
mouth and trace where his sweet mouth had lingered.
    I shall have much to reflect and dream on tonight, but
I must not day-dream now.
    Amice had been right, though. He tasted of mint and
smelled of leather and a faint whiff of sulphur, perhaps from his time by the
forges. What did he do as royal armourer? Did he ever use gold? That would be
something in common between them. She opened her mouth to ask, then remembered
just in time that he had not told her what he was or did, only his name. If she
asked anything too close he might suspect her of seeking him out, of laying
traps for him. Which is exactly what I did and must do again.
    “Yes, my lady?” He must have sensed her question,
possibly by her face. Richard had always mocked her for being too expressive.
    They had reached the end of the alley and she pointed
left. He turned the horse along another narrow lane, this one filled with
stacked firewood and smelling of fish.
    “Are you of London, Sir Stephen?” That was surely a
safe inquiry.
    “Not me, and no knight, either.” He admitted this
without a seeming care, tucking his loose glove into his belt. He still wore
the other, perhaps to keep the golden flower he had caught safe— she could only
hope.
    “I am of Kent,” he continued. “I miss the orchards and
fields there.”
    “We have apple trees,” she began, stopping as it hit
her afresh that Matthew was somewhere in Kent. Surely the family will let me
visit Matthew now? They must!
    “Isabella of London,” Stephen went on, in a musing
way. He leaned around a low-hanging jetty and tightened his grip about her
waist as the horse ambled past a rooting pig. “You like London? Of course you
must, for you are of the goldsmiths and they live richly.”
    “And you do not?” she replied, stung by his implied
criticism. “Your tunic is very fine, embroidered silk, I think, though you have
burst a seam on the shoulder. I can mend it for you if you wish.”
    What have I said? she thought desperately, as Stephen's piercing eyes narrowed and she
braced herself for a set-down or worse, a blow. But even as she stiffened she
realized he was laughing.
    “A most generous offer, mistress! Should I remove it
now?”
    Her easy blush, which she so detested, roared up her
face, stinging in her cheeks, but she was determined not to be overcome. “Not
for me, sir. Your wife might not approve.”
    Abruptly, like a candle being snuffed out, the light
in his face vanished and he looked older, grimmer. “I have none now—no wife, I
mean. Where next?”
    They had reached another junction