“And what do you think of that, my lady?”Sir Hew asked.
She knew better than to voice her actual thoughts in front of her father.
“Interestin’,” she said, giving him a noncommittal smile.
Then he gave her another knowing wink, and she glanced away before her blush could betray her.
Meanwhile, her thoughts churned like a raging river.
Equal power.The idea was intoxicating.If she married into the Rivenloch clan, would she be endowed with such power?Would she be free to make her own decisions?
Sir Hew had made it clear.He was destined for the church.But could he have an unmarried kinsman?One who was more ordinary, even-tempered, and predictable than the axe-wielding warrior monk?Perhaps a brother?Or even better, a twin who shared Sir Hew’s good looks, captivating gaze, muscular body, broad shoulders, powerful hands, firm buttocks…
She must find out.
If there was another eligible Rivenloch bachelor, she could direct her father toward him.If they suited and eventually married…
She might be able to follow her dreams.
Keep a menagerie of animals.
Finish her bestiary.
Steer her own fate.
Chapter 11
The Laird of Dunlop believed Hew was a well-connected noble in need of a wife.
Lady Carenza believed he was a man about to devote himself to the church.
Keeping the threads of those two narratives separate required the skills of a master weaver.But Hew was accustomed to doing that.He’d had to appease cuckolded husbands and contrite mistresses enough times that he knew how to keep them from becoming an inextricable knot.
What was challenging was keeping his heart out of things.
This evening he could feel it thrumming every time he glanced down at the lovely lady supping beside him.Every time he glimpsed the delicate curve of her wrist.Heard the breathy murmur of her words.Inhaled the floral scent of her hair.
These things were impossible to ignore.And he didn’t necessarily want to ignore them.After all, if the circumstances were different, he would leap at the chance to court the laird’s daughter.And he couldn’t rule out the appealing possibility that the king would approve such a match in the future.Keeping in Dunlop’s good graces was essential.
But Hew had already declared to the lass that he was monastery-bound.What kind of scoundrel would she think he was if he made improper advances?
He was accustomed to women familiar with the reputation of the warriors of Rivenloch.Who trusted in their honor.Their loyalty.Their decency.Who took them at their word and believed what they said, simply by virtue of their clan name.
But Carenza questioned his chivalry at every turn.
For the first time in his life, he had to prove his worth to a woman, not by his reputation, but by his deeds.Beginning with being true to what he’d told her.He had to act as if he intended to become a monk.At least until he solved the monastery’s thefts.After that, he could conceivably and reasonably change his mind about the church.
Only then would he be free to pursue Lady Carenza with all his heart.And he was almost certain she would return that love in full measure.After that, all he’d need to do was get his aunt, Laird Deirdre, to secure the king’s permission for him to wed the Laird of Dunlop’s daughter.Then the two of them would live blissfully ever after.
The thought made him smile as he cut another bite from the slice of roast in his trencher.
“Ye like the boar, aye?”the laird guessed, nudging him with a companionable elbow.
“Aye,” he agreed, shoving the succulent morsel into his mouth.Then, reconsidering, he stopped mid-bite and inclined toward Carenza, muttering, “’Tisn’t one of your friends, is it?”
She smiled and shook her head.
That sweet expression instantly convinced him of two things.One, that he’d gladly give up meat and dine on peat roasts and smoked plaster if it would make her happy.And two, that the beast rousing in his braies was more starved than his belly.
