The White Lord of Wellesbourne Read Online Free PDF Page A

had
a substantial wound on his thigh, but none of that seemed to matter. He
practically fell off of the charger, ripping his helm off and tossing it to the
ground as he went to her. He thought the blood was hers and horror filled him.
    From the road heading south, they
could hear what sounded like thunder. As Matthew fell to his knees beside her,
Alixandrea did not realize that the roll of thunder signaled reinforcements
arriving from Wellesbourne.
    “My lady,” Matthew demanded
hoarsely. “Where are you hurt?”
    She shook her head, sobs bubbling
up until they spilled out all over. “He..,” she gasped. “He did not hurt me. He
tried, but I… I killed him. My God, I killed him.”
    Matthew let out a sigh so heavy
that it was as if his entire body suddenly deflated.  He put his hands on her
shoulders to steady her; she was quivering violently.
    “Let me see,” he lifted her hair
and checked her neck, shoulders and arms for damage.  When he was convinced the
blood wasn’t hers, he met her still-terrified gaze. “Forgive me for leaving you
unprotected. I did not realize Luke had left until I saw that his horse was
gone.”
    She did not know what to say. 
All she knew was that she had killed a man and she could not shake the horror
of it.
    “He is dead,” she whispered. “I
killed him.”
    Matthew could see how shaken she was.
Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her into his arms.
    “You were brave, my lady,” his
lips were against her forehead. “Had you not killed him, he would have surely
killed you. There is no shame in defending yourself.”
    She sobbed uncontrollable and he
pulled her closer, perhaps just because he wanted to. “I did not want to do
it,” she wept. “He forced me to. I did not want to.”
    Matthew did not know what to say.
He’d been in so many battled and had killed so many men that the act, the sight
of it, did not bother him in the least. Such were the perils of war.  But the
lady was different; this was something new and horrifying and he felt
tremendously remorseful for it. He should have been here to protect her, but he
had left that duty to Luke, unaware his brother had run home for help.  Then he
had been caught up in his own mortal struggle. It took him some time to realize
that the lady had been left unprotected. He was an idiot.
    Behind him, he heard a growl and
turned in time to see another opponent bearing down on him. On his knees with a
woman in his arms was not the best position to meet an adversary.
    Matthew unsheathed his sword with
his right hand, turned to face his attacker and shoved Alixandrea behind him
all in one clean motion.  His foe was one of Dorset’s finest and dispatching
him was not as simple as a three-stroke kill.  It took considerably more of
Matthew’s strength to slay the man that was trying very hard to kill him.  The
fight was brutal but eventually Matthew’ skill and strength won out.
    When the assailant lay dying on
the ground, Matthew turned his attention once again to the lady. She stood back
against the carriage, clutching Jezebel and struggling for composure. Strode
had regained consciousness by this time and sat at her feet, nursing a sore
head.  As Matthew made his way back over to her, a knight suddenly roared up on
a big red charger.  The horse kicked up clods of earth, spraying it in all
directions.
    “Matt,” the man demanded. “Are
you well, man?”
    Matthew paused, glancing down at
his body, remembering the gash to his thigh. He nodded with some weariness.
    “Well enough,” he said. “How is
Luke?”
    “Fine,” the knight said. “He rode
back with us. Looks like Dorset’s men again.”
    “I know.” Matthew continued on
towards Alixandrea. He reached out a hand to her, gently pulling her away from
her frightened servants. “My lady, this is my brother, Sir Mark Wellesbourne.
Mark, this is the Lady Alixandrea Terrington St. Ave. Take her back to the
castle and make her safe.”
    Mark was in fighting mode but