Sin and Surrender Read Online Free PDF Page B

eyes slid down his body with open possession, promising much when they were alone that night. She was making their disguise far easier than he’d imagined it would be.
    “Paul, my love, do you not see the children?” she asked.
    He was too busy thinking of an answering endearment to understand her intent. “Your pardon, my duckling?”
    She arched her brows, and he thought the corner of her lip twitched slightly, but all she did was point ahead of them. “The children? Perhaps you should wave?”
    And then he saw several scruffy children out for a day’s adventure. They gaped up at the closely formed entourage, eyes wide with wonder. Why was he supposed to wave? But he did so with gusto.
    “Do you have any pennies?” she asked. “Do offer some.”
    He gave her an appreciative smile, then reached into the purse on his belt and tossed a few to the children. They gasped and cried out, scrambling for them. And when one small boy was left with his hands empty, his lips trembling, Juliana reached across from her horse, plucked another coin, and tossed it to the boy. Wearing a new grin, he touched the brim of his cap and ran.
    The party reached the summit of the bridge, where another tower rose into the sky between the buildings. The road narrowed even further, until Paul’s and Juliana’s knees touched occasionally as they rode. They were now a spectacle, people gaping as they approached, a growing crowd following from behind. There was no way to escape down the crowded thoroughfare, no room to maneuver on horseback. There should be no reason for attack now, at the beginning of the mission, but it had been instilled in him to constantly prepare for any event.
    Over his shoulder, he could see Theobald bringing up the rear, leather jerkin rough and worn, bare bulging arms warning that he well knew how to use a sword.
    His craggy face, with its half mask promising to hide something fearful, was enough of a deterrent for many in the crowd. He guided two riderless horses, their panniers stuffed with garments, armor, and supplies for the journey north. In front of Theobald rode Roger, giving a gap-toothed grin at the children they’d just passed, and Joseph, drawing stares, but for the opposite reason as Theobald. His handsome face had many maids sighing and waving their handkerchiefs with delight. Timothy and Michael had the lead, weaving a path through the crowd.
    A fine retinue, Paul knew, but if they were attacked, he would have to sit back like a coward and allow them to defend him.
    And then there were the rumors his Bladesmen deliberately began to spread. He caught phrases as Michael and Timothy spoke too loudly to each other about “showing his face in London,” and “if the king hears of this.” Speculation should eventually spread through London and beyond, into the north, where enemies waited.
    Paul was glancing up at the three-story buildings rising high on either side of him, when he happened to notice an upper window open, and someone leaned out with a pot.
    In character, Paul shouted, “Anon, Michael, look above! Do hurry! I’m not about to be tossed with filth because of your crawling pace.”
    Juliana ignored him, as if she was used to his sudden flares of temper. He saw Michael’s back stiffen, but the Bladesman urged his horse into a trot, and more than one man on the street yelped as he jumped out of their way.
    Juliana found herself impressed with Paul’s mastery of his character. He’d been away from League duty for several years, yet he managed to focus on playing a spoiled, entitled man. There was an arrogance in his smile, a boldness in his possessiveness of her. As long as he didn’t think the latter was true …
    For herself, crossing the bridge as a spectacle was—exhausting. She wasn’t used to being gaped at, wondered about. There were no sneers, since for all the townspeople knew, she was his wife. The sneers would come later.
    She was so used to blending in, being unobtrusive, able