“I know you do not agree with me giving her the mare, but it was my horse and I wanted to help her. She did me a great service by coming here and placing herself at risk for me. Besides, none of us can truly understand the torment it is for her to be kept from seeing to the welfare of her son. I gave her the mare, and I only pray that she makes good use of the animal.”
“Which means she has stolen nothing except clothing.” It was Synclair who spoke again, the knight appearing to lose interest in everyone in the room while he glanced toward the window. “I understand why she left the armor behind now.”
Jemma felt her eyes rounding.
Of course Justina had left the armor behind. Armor was very expensive, and to steal it was a high crime.
“Then she is away and that is the end of it.” Curan spoke in an oddly light tone considering his past position on keeping Justina under his protection. “I will not begrudge her the clothing. Synclair, ready the men. We shall return to Amber Hill.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The knight spoke through clenched teeth but not from anger. He seemed abnormally pleased with his lord’s order and turned in a quick motion before moving out of the tower at a fast pace.
Her brother actually chuckled, drawing her attention. Curan lifted one dark eyebrow.
“Ah, perhaps you do not realize that Synclair has only this day left of his service to me.”
Jemma felt her eyes round. “This day?”
“Indeed, and then he shall have completed his service as his father made him swear to do. I will miss him, of course, but he has an estate to take in hand as well as the title that his father inherited from his uncle. The Baron Harrow died recently without issue. Synclair has much to do at court.”
“At court.” Jemma nibbled on her lower lip, contemplating what Lady Justina was about to have surprising her.
Curan offered her one of his rare grins. “Yes, Sister, recently I have become more tolerant of fate and her need to insist on gaining her way.”
“So have I.” She took a deep breath and allowed her worry to subside. Maybe Justina needed fate just as much as she had. In fact, Jemma was more sure of it when she considered the way the lady had looked the last time she saw her. She needed Synclair, and it appeared that fate was about to thrust them together again.
Her brother shared a long look with her and then aimed another at her husband. He offered his hand, and Gordon took it, clasping his hand around Curan’s wrist in a gesture that was considered as binding as written contract between knights.
“I place my trust in you, Barras. Take care of my sister, for the times are soon to become more turbulent.”
“Aye, that’s for sure with two children on the thrones of both our countries. In a way, ’tis a pity that they can nae be allowed to rule. There would be less bloodshed for they’d spend their time ordering their armies on adventures through the woods.”
“A charming thought, Brother. I can see you dancing with fairies and forest sprites even now.”
Curan offered her a frown, but it did not reach his eyes. “You have a husband now, Jemma, to deal with that tongue.”
He turned and walked through the doors that led to the yard. His men waited, the sound of horses and leather filling the morning air. Eagerness floated on the breeze, and a man brought her brother’s horse to him the moment he appeared. They were Englishmen who longed to return to England, but beneath that they were men who wanted to lay their heads beside their families. That wasn’t unique to Scot or English; it was a desire all men had.
Curan gained the saddle and placed his helmet on his head before raising one fist into the air.
“Ride!”
The group surged forward in a symphony of motion. Their action gave testimony to the years of training every man down to the squires had taken in the art of being who they were. A knight was not trained in a week; he began his toil at a young age and faced many years of obstacles before gaining the golden chain that would declare his rank. The days were long and the tasks too many to count, but they forged a man who was unbendable in spirit.
Jemma spotted Synclair; the helmet he wore sported two white feathers. The morning light shone off his knight chain that was perfectly polished in spite of the many things that he did to serve her brother. The reason was simple; it represented what he had dedicated his life to.
“Will ye miss yer brother very much, lass?”
Gordon stepped up beside her, standing just enough away from her body to maintain his position as head of the house. She turned and lowered herself, making the appearance of the perfect wife, but she lifted her eyes and shot him a look that was full of passion.
“Only if you prove to be boring, toad.”
His lips parted to show her a flash of his teeth a moment before he spread his arms wide and captured her. He tossed her up and over his shoulder and turned toward the stairs that led to their chamber.
“I swear to do my toady best, lass.”
IMPROPER GENTLEMEN are a lot more fun! Go get this sexy anthology from Diane Whiteside, Mia Marlowe, and Maggie Robinson, available now. Turn the page for a sample of Diane’s story, “Talbot’s Ace” . . .
Silver and black spun through the man’s fingers in deadly pinwheels of steel under the lead-grey skies.
Charlotte Moreland froze in front of the Silver King Hotel, unable to take another step even though the young man was more than a dozen paces away.
