Midnight Eyes by Brophy, Sarah (well read books .TXT) 📕

“Sir Gareth. It is my pleasure to meet you,” she said softly as she dropped into a very proper curtsy.

Gareth bowed again over her hand with a small flourish, “No, my lady, I can honestly say that the pleasure is all mine.” He kept hold of her hand, enjoying the texture of her soft hand in his larger one.

Imogen couldn’t stop a small giggle from escaping. “I suspect, Sir Gareth, that you might be something of a rogue.”

“One does one’s humble best.”

“I’m sure one does,” she murmured. “Well, thank you for the entertainment, it really has been most enjoyable. Sadly, however, I have need of that hand you are holding so tightly, and must be on my way with it.”

“May I enquire as to your destination?”

“Certainly you may enquire, and I may even answer.” She paused a moment, her cheek dimpling with humor. “Lucas was escorting me to the tower. I have a pressing desire to see it,” she said finally, carefully avoiding any mention of any similar desire she might have to see Robert. Gareth heard the need there all the same, and was a little surprised by the small grief it caused. He quickly shook it off, not prepared to waste time dwelling on impossibilities.

“And they send a boy to do a man’s job?” he scoffed.

“Actually, they send a boy to do an old woman’s job. Mary normally acts as my eyes but she thought the journey might be too great and cold for one of her advanced years, so she nobly nominated Lucas in her stead.”

Gareth paused a moment. “Act as your eyes?” he asked gently.

She smiled again, but this time her earlier easy amusement was missing. “To act as my eyes, as my eyes can no longer act on their own.”

His own eyes narrowed on her, hoping for a moment that what he thought she meant was a lie. Instead, her empty eyes just missed meeting his.

He recovered from his shock quickly. Well, there had to be something wrong, he told himself rationally, the rumors about Lady Deformed had to have come from somewhere. That it was a gross exaggeration didn’t stop it from being some kind of twisted reality.

And what did it matter? Why dwell on such a thing when in everything else she was beyond such sterile concepts as mere perfection?

“Well, let me offer you the use of my own, rather attractive, sky blue eyes. Not only are they exquisitely beautiful, they are also exceptionally keen and you can consider them at your disposal.”

“Very prettily said,” she murmured, enjoying his easy acceptance of her problem very much.

He leaned confidentially closer, trying to ignore the fact that he liked a little too well just being near this woman. “For you, I will even be pretty. Of course if anyone else said such a thing, I would slice them in two.”

“I must remember that. It would make you interesting to clean up after, I must say.”

Gareth opened his mouth to reply in kind but was stopped by Lucas’s piping voice from the doorway. “But I was told to look out for my lady.”

Imogen found it strange that she had nearly forgotten his presence. Normally she kept very firm in her head the mental map needed to see her world. Perhaps, it had been so long since she had last been able to just be silly that she had forgotten all else in the pursuit of it. There was no denying that she also enjoyed the man who shared his silliness with her.

Gareth might not produce in her the rush of strange emotions Robert did, but his simple, easy manner was a balm to her badly battered pride.

“Lucas, you must learn to give up a lady gracefully,” Gareth said with mock severity. “Especially when your rival is several times your size.”

“But Mary said I was to go with her.”

“Well, now I say I have to.”

“I’ll tell Mary on you.”

“Well, I’ll tell Robert on you,” Gareth countered, flourishing the winning stroke with relish.

“Stop teasing the boy,” Imogen said sternly, but a smile gentled the words.

“Who was teasing?” Gareth growled threateningly. “The boy certainly wasn’t when he threatened to set that harpy on me.”

“Mary’s not a harpy,” Imogen said with a smile, “anymore than I am, despite how we both might appear from time to time.”

She turned toward Lucas’s voice. “Of course you can come along if Mary said you must. How about carrying the basket and making a path through the snow for us to follow?”

“Making a path?” he pondered. “That’s kind of like being a scout, for an army, isn’t it?” He was still deeply suspicious, but his excitement at the thought of being near food and having a status was evident.

“You bet it is,” Gareth said, with the authority of many wars behind him.

“And you can feel free to liberate a titbit or two from what I suspect is one of Mary’s overstuffed baskets,” Imogen said coaxingly, reluctant to be parted just yet from a man who simply made her smile.

Lucas considered every aspect of the deal for a moment. “All right,” he said, then ran to see what exactly Mary had put in the basket.

Gareth smiled as he hooked his arm through Imogen’s and they followed slowly.

“Do I get to sample from the basket too, even though I don’t get to be a scout? Or do I just get stuck with the beautiful lady?” Gareth asked innocently, his voice full of guile.

“You may sample the delight of the basket only if you are a very good boy,” she said with mock hauteur.

“Oh, I’m always a good boy,” he said nicely, his face splitting into a decidedly wolfish grin. “Always.”

Chapter Six

Robert stepped gingerly over yet another fallen stone.

“…or we could always just paint it in your colors and stuff your banner on top…” Matthew said gleefully.

And while his face might have appeared serious and earnest, Robert was only too well aware that his eyes were dancing. When he