My Man Godric Read Online Free PDF

some time. Along with your brother, and one
or two esteemed generals often at my table, you are one of the few
I have met with a true claim to nobility.”
    Plainspoken and true, it hit Bertie like an
arrow, or perhaps that was Godric’s gaze. The towel fell right from
his hands but somehow he felt warm. Not warm, hot.
    “I… It’s well known that I’m a fool,
Godric,” Bertie whispered, not certain why he spoke, why he’d argue
if Godric had finally ceased to find him a complete nuisance.
Godric shook his head and then gently placed the cat on the floor
before standing up.
    “You are the brother of a good king and your
great father’s son, my lord,” he disagreed quietly. “You are noble
to your toes.” He paused, then firmed his lips. His face seemed to
grow darker. “There is food there, and clothes,” he waved at the
table, glancing over Bertie before politely averting his eyes once
again, “if you wish to visit with your people before I figure out
how to best get you all safely away, and in the meantime….”
    “Clothes?” Bertie looked over and saw fine
cloth. He wrinkled his brow.
    “The king, your brother’s.”
    “Why do you have my brother’s clothing in
your tent?” Bertie demanded sharply, shutting up only when Godric’s
expression filled with disbelief.
    “He left them here.” With hindsight, this
was obvious, and Bertie almost ducked his head at his jealousy. He
settled for a shrug and then a small smile when Godric went on
about how he did not think the clothes Bertie had been wearing
suited his soft skin. It was not an insult when Godric said it. “In
the meantime,” Godric finally finished, pointedly, “my tent is
yours, my lord.”
    “You….” Bertie’s breath left him. “Where
will you sleep?”
    Godric froze for one moment, then
inhaled.
    Bertie ignored his discomfort or Southern
prudery or embarrassment, whichever it was. “Your bed is lovely,
Godric, but I won’t push you out of it.” He wasn’t teasing, not
even a little. He would never push Godric out of any bed.
    Perhaps knowing that, or used to him,
Godric’s lips briefly turned up and he slanted a look at Bertie
that was surprisingly warm. “The ground is good enough for me, my
lord.” Then he half-turned away.
    “I’ve slept on the ground too, Godric
beloved, and I don’t care if you were a stable boy, the ground
isn’t fit for anyone, much less the man with a nation relying on
him. Sleep in your bed.”
    “Is that an order?” Godric returned quietly,
with all manner and respect, then scratched at his chin, which was
bare and clean-shaven, a fact that Bertie had so far nicely and
properly refrained from mentioning. He gave up that attempt in the
face of Godric’s stupid sense of honor due him.
    “I didn’t order you to do that!” Bertie
insisted, a touch shrilly, only to fall silent when Godric smiled
again. His smile was as stunning as it was unexpected.
    “We all have our reasons to do what we do,
my lord,” Godric offered seriously, even with that faint, warm
pleasure still in his eyes, and then left the tent while Bertie
stood there, stunned and naked, behind him.
     
    ~~~
     
    He
dressed as quickly as possible and was not ashamed of how fast he
stuffed the offered food into his mouth, though he did not eat so
fast that he did not taste the seasonings in the cold chicken or
feel the grains of flour on the crust of the hard bread. For once
he did not stop to make certain his hair gleamed or to straighten
his clothes, or even to shave the roughness from his jaw.
    He had matters to attend to, and, as it
happened, Godric had seen him look his worst and had not objected.
Godric, Bertie’s mind whispered dizzily, had found him noble . If Bertie could not have a declaration of love to
answer his own, then that would do. Besides, if being unshaven was
the look of peasants and soldiers, then it ought to do for the dead
king’s bastard.
    Outside the tent was much hushed activity—as
hushed as armored