Lord Of Danger by Stuart, Anne (android based ebook reader .TXT) 📕

The heated water was a blessing, and she dismissed her sudden suspicions. He didn’t want her, he’d made that clear. She must have been wrong about her monthly flow.

She leaned back in the tub, letting her long hair soak up the water, and she shut her eyes, resting her head against the linen covered wood. She felt wonderfully peaceful, floating, almost ready to sleep some more.

She let her drifting mind go chasing down the odd dreams that had plagued her, and the caress of the water against her skin reminded her of other caresses, touches, strange and dangerous delights that enticed and frightened.

She sat up abruptly, splashing water over the floor and her discarded clothing. “Madlen!” she shrieked.

As expected, Madlen was hovering, her plain face alight with avid curiosity. She glanced at the pile of clothing on the floor, but fortunately no blood stains could be seen. What a fool she’d been, Alys thought bitterly. So innocent and so trusting.

“Bring me fresh clothing at once,” she said. “And send my sister to me. I have need of her…” Her voice trailed off as she saw the look of utter panic on Madlen’s plain face. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. “Has something happened to Claire? Where is Sir Thomas? Has Richard been near her, harmed her… ?”

“In truth, my lady, I do not know,” Madlen said miserably. “We went for a walk in the courtyard earlier today and she just… disappeared.”

Alys rose from the bath, oblivious to her nudity, the chill in the air, and Madlen’s curiosity. “Is her horse gone as well?”

“I don’t know.”

Alys tried to still her rising panic as Madlen helped her into dry clothes. “And what of Sir Thomas? Did he go after her?”

“Sir Thomas isn’t here. Oh, my lady, forgive me, but I didn’t know what to do, and I thought she would return sooner or later!” Madlen wailed.

It was almost full dark outside, and the rumble of thunder was ominously close. “Does my brother know she’s missing?”

“No one does. My lady, where are you going?” Madlen’s voice rose, but Alys had already fled.

She had no idea what she was going to do. Turning to Richard for help was out of the question—Alys trusted him no more than Claire did. Nor was she particularly eager to turn to her husband. Not if he’d done what she suspected. And if she was wrong it would make things even worse. She was only dimly aware of what had passed between them the night before, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to ask for his help. Sir Thomas was gone, Madlen said, and Alys trusted none of the other knights who filled Richard’s hall.

She had reached the bottom of the east tower stairs when she barreled into a strong male figure, so intent on her sister’s whereabouts that she didn’t look where she was going.

“Lady Alys.” The voice was grim, cool, but blessedly welcome as she looked up.

“Sir Thomas!” she cried, and without thinking flung her arms around him. “Thank God you’ve returned! I need your help desperately.”

Sir Thomas was not dull-witted. “Your sister. Where is she?” he said in a sharp voice. “Has anyone laid a hand on her?”

“She’s run away. I was asleep, and that fool Madlen didn’t watch her carefully. I haven’t checked to see if her horse is missing but I’m certain it is.”

“If the horse is gone, then so is your sister,” he said. “I knew something was amiss.” He spun around and headed out into the courtyard, with Alys scampering along behind him, trying to keep up.

“You’ll go after her?” she pleaded. “You’ll try to find her?”

“I will find her,” he said sharply, and she believed him. She had no other choice. He paused and looked down at her, taking her small hand in his large, gloved ones. “Your sister will be safe with me, I promise. I will bring her back to you safely.”

Alys found treacherous tears filling her eyes. “I know you will,” she said, and flung her arms around him, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek.

She stayed where she was, alone in the storm swept courtyard, watching him as he disappeared into the stables. The wind was tossing the heavy skirts of her gown about her ankles, whipping her long, wet hair against her face, and she pushed it back with an absent hand. There was nothing she could do now but wait.

She turned, and froze. Simon of Navarre stood there in the courtyard, dressed in black, watching her, his face cool and distant.

“How long have you been there?” She wondered at the calmness in her voice.

“Long enough to watch your touching farewell to your brave champion. You forgot to give him a love token to wear into battle.”

She ignored his taunt. “My sister has run away.”

Simon nodded. “I assumed it was something like that. And du Rhaymer is going in search of her?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose he deserves your kisses,” the wizard said idly.

She moved closer to him, flinching as lightning sizzled in the sky. “My lord, you have no cause for jealousy.”

“My lady, I am not jealous.” He said it with simple honesty, and she should have felt relief.

She didn’t. She felt a slow building rage, curdling deep in her belly, she who had always avoided anger and passion. She came up to him, close enough that his long black robes caught and mingled with her gown in the swirling wind. She pushed the hair from her face to glare up at him, and her last ounce of proper behavior fled in the wash of emotion.

“Of course,” she said bitterly. “You have to care about someone in order to feel jealousy. And you’ve already given me leave to take a lover. I would think Sir Thomas would do very well. As a matter of fact, that’s what we were doing before we reached the courtyard. We had an assignation in my room, and he… and he…”

He smiled down