Chapter 3
“See what we have here,” Sir William wiggled his eyebrows at her and tossed her a sack. “I’m going to try and get a fire started while you put out the food.”
They’d found a spot where the earth had cut away under a rock ledge. An uprooted tree in front of the opening provided further protection. The horses were hobbled at a nearby creek, and had been given oats. It was as good a place as any to make a camp for the night.
While he worked his flint into a handful of tinder, Juliana pulled items out of the sack. A loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese were wrapped in cloth. A skin of wine. Knives. Cord. Candles.
At the bottom of the sack, she found a small, velvet pouch. Inside was an orange stone wrapped in filigree. “What’s this?”
He blew on the tinder, which then burst into flame. Tucking the glowing bunch into the kindling, he looked up briefly. “My good luck charm. I never go into battle without it. The chain broke.” He stood up and slapped his thighs. “That’s better now, isn’t it? A nice fire.”
“What would you do if you found yourself going into battle and had lost it?”
He frowned and knitted his eyebrows. “What else could I do but carry on and hope my opponent also lost his, so ’twould be a fair fight?” He gave a half-smile. Was he teasing her?
“But, don’t you think you might actually be hampering yourself by relying on a good luck charm?”
“You are a strange girl.” He shook his head. “I have not once been injured in battle. Not once with my good luck charm on me!” He squatted down before her.
“Mayhap that means you’re a strong warrior.”
“Well, I am. ’Tis true, which is why I’ve been chosen to protect you. But all the same...And, as I recall there were objects you were most anxious to retrieve from your home before we set off—aside from saying goodbye to your father, there were things you were desperate to collect.”
Juliana reached into the pouch hanging from her belt. “A book. And I’m not dependent on it, nor desperate. I just like to have it with me to pass the time.”
He reached for the slim volume. “What is it?”
She snatched it back before he could touch it. “Poetry.”
“Poetry? Love poems?” He rested his chin on the heel of his hand, elbow braced on knee, and broke into a broad grin.
Her cheeks flooded with warmth. “’Tis precious to me. It belonged to my mother.”
“Ah, I see. And, she is—”
“Dead.”
“I’m so sorry.” He looked on her with soft eyes. Then brightened. “Shall we dine? Did you find the provisions?”
“Oh, yes!” she handed him the bread, which he broke, giving her a piece.
“The cheese is exceptional. You must try it.” He took the knife off the cloth she’d laid the food on and cut off a slice of cheese, which he held in front of her mouth until she took it. He watched her reaction as she chewed. “Good, isn’t it?”
Juliana swallowed the morsel. It was surprisingly tasty. “Mm, Yes, ’tis good.”
“’Tis made at a monastery near my home.”
“Is that where you’re taking me? To your home?”
He looked startled, and then his eyes grew dark. “Nay, but what pictures that puts in my mind.” He spoke in a husky voice, drawing in air through flared nostrils.
She had been almost at ease, but now remembered the position she was in being so far from anything with this strange man. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied his long legs so close to hers, his broad shoulders almost filling the space. He could easily overpower her.
“Why aren’t you married, at your age?” he asked suddenly.
She bristled. “’Tis the second time you’ve mentioned my age—like I’m an old spinster. I’m only twenty.”
“Still, you’re of an age you should’ve been married years ago.”
“I’m the youngest in the family.” She shrugged. “’Tis my place to be the daughter who doesn’t marry but stays home to take care of Father.”
He frowned. “That’s a great pity. What a waste of a good woman.”
“Not everyone is made to marry.”
“Nay, ’tis not true. Maybe not everyone is suited to marriage, but everyone is made for marriage—if you take my meaning. Like a key fits into a lock. ’Tis exactly what we’re made for.” He made a rude gesture with his hands to illustrate the point, leaving no doubt of his meaning.
Juliana pulled her knees into her chest. “You are too bold for my taste, Sir William. I beg you to remember your mission. You are here to watch over me.”
“Oh, that’s right! I forgot for a moment, sitting here out in the open on the frozen ground, why I was here with you. With that in mind, I’m going to sit here by the opening to guard you while you sleep.”
“Are you going to protect me from ogres?” She bit her lower lip to stop giggling.
“Don’t be daft. If an ogre attacked, we wouldn’t stand a chance.” When she glanced over at him, his teeth flashed white in the firelight. A big grin on his face. “But, you should try and sleep. I put a blanket down to keep you off the cold. Wrap up in your cloak as best you can. I don’t expect you’ll sleep a wink, but try and rest.”