Lord of the Blade Read Online Free PDF Page A

coax her to speak. She sensed the
competition between the two men when she saw Corbett's jaw twitch
beneath his cool facade.
    "Get us that wine, wench." Malcomn
straightened his garments and strutted around the room like a
rooster.
    Devon sighed deeply but didn't move. Why
bother telling the fool her name if he still planned on calling her
wench?
    "’Tis on the table.” Corbett’s soft voice
was a combination of urging her to cooperate and warning her not to
defy them.
    "Aye…my…lord." Devon slowly pushed each word
from her mouth with reluctance as she acknowledged Corbett. This
was the first she had talked to him, but why was it so difficult?
Could it be because secretly beneath her repelling attitude toward
the man she thought he was ruggedly handsome? Could it be because
when he touched her arm a moment ago she felt a warmth flow through
her body that she couldn't explain?
    Confused, she blindly walked to the stand
and retrieved the two goblets of wine. Delivering the first one to
the red-haired man by the fire, she continued on her way towards
Corbett who was once again staring out the window. In order to gain
his attention she had to talk to him again. For some strange reason
she thought he had planned this, knowing how hard it was for
her.
    "My…lord?" Devon spoke in a voice no louder
than a whisper.
     
    Corbett pretended not to hear, wanting her
to say it again. He liked the way his title sounded coming from her
mouth. And he liked the hidden softness in her tone that belied her
hardened composure.
    "My…lord?" repeated Devon a bit louder this
time.
    He faced her, giving her his undivided
attention.
    " Devon, " he pronounced her name very
deliberately. She lowered her eyes and nodded her head to
acknowledge him. Accepting the goblet, he purposely touched her
fingers wanting a reaction from her, but getting one of his own
instead. A wave of excitement swept through his body. As she tried
to let go, he held his fingers over hers, wanting her to stay. She
stared at his hand in disbelief and he could feel her fingers
tremble. Then she slowly raised her emerald eyes to meet his. He
found himself mesmerized by their clearness, drawing him back to
his dreams. Enchanting they were, as well as stubborn, with a hint
of childlike innocence. Her long lashes flickered once, and then
twice, but she didn’t turn away.
    Eyes interlocked with eyes, the action
lingered longer than he originally intended. He'd only wanted her
to look at him, but now found himself having a hard time looking
away. Her eyes were clearly what his cousin, Brother Ruford, would
call windows to the soul.
    He found himself lost in her eyes, lost in
her confusion, her abandonment, her pain. He didn't know who she
was or from whence she came, but he planned on finding out soon.
Her presence in his dreams was disturbing. Her presence in his life
was mystical, magical and somehow a quest he knew he had to embark
upon even though his practical mind warned him not to get
involved.
    "That's all I wanted." He spoke softly so
Malcomn wouldn't hear. Satisfied for now with the raising of her
eyes to meet his, he released her fingers and tried to pay
attention to whatever it was Malcomn was rambling on about from
across the room.
    "I only turn my back, and already you try to
steal my wench!" joked Malcomn. "Well, I have plenty others from
which I'm willing to share.” And with a clap of his hands, several
pretty servant girls appeared from the adjoining wardrobe.
    "I'd be willing to trade any or all of them
for that one." He approached Devon as she stood at Corbett's side.
He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, raising it to
caress his own face. Devon shuddered.
    "How noble of you to offer me one of my own
servants in exchange," said Corbett. "But as I told you, this one
is off limits to all but me."
    "Remember whom you are addressing," warned
Malcomn without even looking up.
    "Nay," answered Corbett. "For 'tis you who
should remember I am lord over