Three French Hens Read Online Free PDF

seeming startled out of his reverie. For a moment, Brinna thought he might have to turn away for another coughing fit, but he managed to restrainhimself and murmur, “Aye, well, then we must not let her play the harp. Mayhap something less strenuous on her
pricked
finger. Chess perhaps?”
    “I am sorry, my lord,” Sabrina answered. “I fear chess is out of the question as well. Joan has … a … er … tendency to suffer the … er … aching head.” At his startled glance, she nodded solemnly. “They come on any time she thinks too hard.”
    Brinna closed her eyes and groaned at that one. She couldn’t help it. Really! It was hard to imagine that the girl was supposed to be on Lady Joan’s side.
    “So, thinking is out of the question?” she heard Lord Thurleah murmur with unmistakable amusement.
    “I am afraid so.”
    “Aye. Well, it must be a family trait.”
    Brinna’s eyes popped open at that. She was hardly able to believe that he had said that. To her it sounded as if he had just insulted Sabrina. Surely he hadn’t meant it that way, she thought, but when she glanced at his face, he gave her a wink that assured her that she was brighter than Lady Sabrina would have him believe. He had just insulted the girl. Fortunately, Sabrina obviously hadn’t caught on to the insult. Making a sad grimace with her lips, she nodded solemnly and murmured, “Aye, I believe the aching head does run in the family.”
    “Ah,” Lord Thurleah murmured, then gestured up the path to where the others were now disappearing around a curve in the lane. “Mayhap we should catch up to the others?”
    “Oh, dear.” Sabrina frowned. “They
have
left us quite far behind, have they not?”
    “Aye, but my man and I can take the two of you on our horses and catch up rather quickly, I am sure,” he said gently, taking Sabrina’s arm and leading her the few stepsto where his man waited by the horses. Brinna followed more slowly, her gaze dropping of its own accord over his wide strong back, his firm buttocks, and muscled legs as he assisted Lady Sabrina onto his mount.
    At least she had assumed it was his mount. Sabrina apparently had, too, Brinna realized as he suddenly stepped out of the way to allow his man to mount behind the girl and the brunette gasped anxiously. “Oh, but—”
    “Lady Joan and I will be right behind you,” Lord Thurleah said gaily over her protests, nodding to his man, then slapping the horse on the derriere so that it took off with a burst of speed, carrying away the suddenly struggling and protesting Lady Sabrina. She was squawking and flapping her arms not unlike the chicken Cook had held by the legs while talking to her the other day, and Brinna bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud at the wicked comparison. Lord Thurleah turned to face her.
    “Now,” he began, then paused, his thoughts arrested as he took in her amused expression.
    “My lord?” she questioned gently after an uncomfortable moment had passed.
    “I have heard people speak of eyes that twinkle merrily, but never really knew what it meant until today,” he said quietly “Your eyes sparkle with life and laughter when you are amused. Did you know that?”
    Brinna swallowed and shook her head. This must be the rough wooing Joan had spoken of, she realized, but for the life of her could find no fault with it. His voice and even his words seemed as smooth as the softest down to her.
    “They do,” he assured her solemnly, reaching out to brush a feather-light tress away from her cheek. “And your hair … It’s as soft as a duckling’s down, and seems to reflect the sun’s light with a thousand different shades of gold. It’s, quite simply, beautiful.”
    “Gor—” Brinna murmured faintly enough that he could not have caught the word, then paused uncertainly and swallowed as his eyes turned their focus on her mouth.
    “And your lips. All I can think of when I peer at them is what it would feel like to kiss