Wings of the Storm Read Online Free PDF Page B

steps away from the dais. One of the dogs came up and sniffed at him. Impatiently he pushed the animal's head away. "Another time," he answered. "I just wanted to bring the baron's request to you." He gave a vague nod in Jane's direction. "Lady."
    The single word sounded more like a sneering dismissal than a mere farewell. Jane wondered if she was expected to make some gracious answer when she'd much rather say something rude. She held her temper and racked her brain for mild words. Fortu-nately she was saved from trying out the Medievalist Society's idea of courtliness when Sir Daffyd spun around and marched out as swiftly as he'd entered.
    She discovered after he'd disappeared through the screen that her knuckles had gone numb from grip-ping the arms of her chair. She didn't know why he made her so nervous, but she was very glad he hadn't stayed for dinner. She forced herself to relax, made herself think about something other than the abrupt appearance of the lion-maned Welshman. She had to swallow hard to relieve her dry throat.
    "Hugh of Lilydrake?" she asked as Stephan took his chair again.
    He ran a hand through his silky black hair. His eyes snapped with anger as he answered. "The fool's going to try to kidnap Sibelle. He knows I'd storm his keep to get her back."
    She removed the veil from across her mouth and coughed lightly when she took a breath. "How romantic," she said.
    He gave her a sardonic look. It was the sort of expression his eyebrows were made for. "Isn't it?" A delighted smile suddenly squared his wide mouth. "Sibelle will think I'm wonderful, won't she?
    "I'm sure," Jane agreed. Her estimation of Stephan's age dropped to about seventeen. Then she shook her head in confusion. "But the country's under interdict. What good will it do you or this Hugh to have Sibelle if you can't get married?"
    He laughed loudly, the sound filling the hall. "It's having the heiress that counts," he told her. "Whoev-er holds the girl when her father dies will get her lands."
    "Right. Important point. How could I have forgot-ten?" It was the land they wanted, not the girl. She'd tumbled into the time that had seen the birth of the romantic ideal, but when love had nothing to do with marriage. Marriage was a business transaction;
    romance was a ritual you conducted with somebody else's wife. She tucked her hands in her sleeves and added primly, "I'm glad I'm soon to be away from such worldly matters."
    "Of course you are, Jehane," he agreed with a humorous glint in his dark eyes. "You'll make a fine nun.
    In the meantime you'll make Passfair a good chatelaine."
    She sighed. "Yes, I suppose I'll have to try." It was a living, she thought. She supposed technically Sir

    Stephan was her liege lord, and she owed him service. Besides, where else could she go? What else could she do?
    Her eyes stung from the smoke. Or maybe they stung from an effort not to cry as the hopelessness of her situation tried to overwhelm her.
    No,she told herself firmly. You can cry all you want if you ever have a moment alone. Things aren't all that bad. You could have ended up with Sir Daffyd. Survive, she told herself. Survive so you can strangle David Wolfe if you ever see him again.
    The idea of somehow getting revenge on David Wolfe had a bracing effect. She smiled and sank down on the high-backed chair. Almost every verte-bra creaked with exhaustion. All she really wanted was to go to sleep. Waking to find out this was all a dream would be nice, too. She didn't think that was going to happen. So forget being tired, she ordered her weary limbs.
    She stretched out her legs, levered herself to her feet, and looked around the dismal mess of Passfair's great hall. Hands on hips, she surveyed its dogs and smoke and stinking rushes. Lord knew what the rest of the place was like. It wasn't going to be easy. She glanced at the eagerly smiling Sir Stephan.
    "When do I start?"
    4
    "Now," the boy said, and went off, shout-ing for his guard sergeant as he left