Chapter One
1298, October, Dillyglen Castle, region of Kelso, Scotland
Sir Geoffrey Eton, stalwart, undaunted and invincible in battle, was not easily thunderstruck. Yet, entering the stable, he froze in his tracks. A petite woman stood outside the stall rubbing foreheads with his cantankerous and deadly destrier.
He gaped while trying to get a handle on his emotions. Heather was her name, a friend of Ahna who recently arrived from Selkirk. His heart pounded in his throat to near gag him. His breath caught as if he had been punched in his gut. His limbs went limp as sweat seeped down his neck. It was the worst shock he had ever had to bear.
She pulled back, barely separating them. “Ye be wanting another bit of apple would ye now, my handsome laddie?” When she chuckled and bent down to grab a slice from a small bucket at her feet, the horse nodded his head twice and whinnied as if in answer. Geoff had never seen such a sight. Not with his warhorse.
He fought to gain his senses, to protect the foolish woman. He took a deep breath and bellowed, “Darktonian, hold!”
The horse instantly responded, arching his neck which pulled him back away from her. He held perfectly still to the command. “Step back away from him.”
Expecting her to follow the curt order as if she was one of his men he captained, he planned to approach her and give her a harsh reprimand for endangering herself so foolishly. Instead, she turned her head, graced him with a wide smile and followed it with a husky chuckle.
“He will no’ harm me. We be the best of friends as long as I bring him a wee bit of apple ever’ day. He loves it when I pet or cuddle him too, he does.” Disregarding his words, she reached up to pat his muzzle and cheek. Thank the good Lord, Darktonian remained a statue. Geoff thought he might swallow his tongue at her blatant disregard for her safety and his order.
Pet or cuddle? Lord grant me strength not to strangle the irresponsible, foolish woman.
“He is a warhorse, trained to bite, strike with his hooves and batter or ram to kill. You are foolish to think otherwise.” His bellow shook the rafters. “He could remove your head in one split second if he felt like it. Now, step back so I may approach. Now!” She would suffer much more than her lopsided limp if the horse became skittish.
He felt like an oaf, an ignorant oaf, yet she needed to understand the danger of her coddling such a temperamental, huge beast. He sighed in relief as she took several uneven steps back. He also noted how her lips tightened and her glare threatened to cook him to a charred cinder if she had any witchy powers in her control.
After stroking Darktonian and reassuring he was not agitated, Geoff surprised himself when she asked to give him some apple.
“Go ahead and give him a few apple slices.” He was astonished by how her soothing words to the beast gained another round of whinnies and nods as if the two held a regular conversation. Geoff shook his head from such fanciful musings.
“It is bad enough you try to ruin my horse, I have no intention of you continuing to put yourself in harm’s way.” He gave her a curt nod to let her know he meant what he said. After several lengthy discussions, he extracted her reluctant promise to neither feed nor even visit Darktonian unless he or his groom was present. He had to hold back a grin while she had put up quite a good resistance. She was strong-willed and stubborn, no doubt about it.
“Tis true he be a big beastie, but that be what drew me to him, ye ken? That be why he be so verra precious and special.” Her merry chortle arrowed a direct hit deep in his chest, in the heart area where he thought most feelings remained hardened.
Precious and special? God grant me strength. He found a laugh almost escape before he hid his smile. He did not like the fact she had touched something within him, so he stiffened his easy reaction to her and forced himself to paste on a dour scowl. His rebellious eyes focused on her bright smile, how those gorgeous turquoise eyes twinkled. How her long, wavy hair glistened gold as if they were outside in the sun. She was on the thin side, yet she had all the right curves, quite nice in fact. He swallowed.
Though her gait was a bit staggered, his gaze followed the gentle sway of her hips as she exited the stable. Heather had been ill and unable to fill Ahna’s request to be in her wedding to Royce, or even attend, for that matter. Ahna had promised to fetch her after she recuperated so she could come to live at Dillyglen.
If he remembered correctly, over several years the two women, both Scots, had become best of friends while working and helping out at the abbey in Selkirk. Ahna had supported her widowed, ailing mother while Heather had been an orphan, left on the convent’s doorstep after birth. He knew no more than that or what exactly each had done at the abbey, other than Ahna teaching harp and working with the children. Hell, he did not even remember Heather’s last name, if he had ever heard it.
Both women were pretty, soft-spoken, tender-hearted and ambitious, but where Ahna was a bit reserved, Heather seemed to have a bit more mischievousness in her. At least, that was what he surmised from observing her work or play with the children, with others, or in the hall at meal time. Surprise registered at just how often he had noticed her. He now watched her limp away and felt the urge to offer to carry her. His anger had dissipated just as fast as his need to protect the foolish woman from any harm had grown.
Where had that illogical notion hailed from? He prided himself as a knight, a hardened warrior, and captain of Royce’s regiment. He would protect any woman, yet knew better than to ever trust any woman with his heart. Ahna, however, was the exception. She could be counted upon to be honest, trustworthy and reliable. And her love for Royce held strong and solid.
He headed for the lists for a work out with his men. No matter what he did or how hard he worked out, the vision of Heather rubbing Darktonian’s forehead with hers, her gentle whispers to the animal, her bright smile and cheerful laughter, stayed with him the rest of the day.