“Long enough.”
“And you sure that you are not a knight?”
He gazed down at her, an ironic snort coming from his lips. “I am sure.”
“But you are a warrior. You must be in order to live in the barracks.”
“I am a soldier.”
“For the king or do you serve a House?”
“I serve the king.”
She nodded in understanding, though she could not imagine a man of his size and obvious skill not being some manner ofnoble knight. Moreover, he was fairly mysterious, and possibly bitter, in his short answers. Having nothing more to say, she lowered her gaze and continued along her path. She hadn’t taken two steps when she suddenly yelped with pain.
She would have fallen had Brogan not reached out to grab her. She was holding her right foot.
“I stepped on something,” she hissed. “Ooch, I cannot see it in the dark.”
He did the only thing he could do. He picked her up. Startled, Avalyn’s arms instinctively went around his neck. He held her with absolutely no effort whatsoever. It was like being held by a tree; strong, solid, unbreakable.
“You should have let me carry you to begin with,” he sounded a good deal like he was scolding her.
Avalyn’s eyebrows rose. “You should have given me back my shoes.”
He looked at her, then. Their faces were a few inches from one another and a very odd spark seemed to ignite. It wasn’t tangible, or even describable. But it was something that suddenly made the moment, from this point on, different.
“You did not have any shoes on when I found you,” Brogan’s voice wasn’t quite so gruff.
She didn’t have anything to say to that. She tried to ignore the feeling of him all around her, his strength enveloping her. It was a completely new awareness, bringing unexpected thoughts of safety and comfort. Brogan carried her the rest of the way across the ward until they reached the entry to the Beauchamp Tower. There, he stopped.
“Inside?” he asked.
“Inside.”
He took her into the cold corridor. An iron sconce burned low, spitting out thick black smoke near the stairs. Avalyndirected Brogan up the stairs to the second floor. When they reached the landing, she pushed herself from his arms.
“I can find my way from here,” she told him. “But I thank you very much for your chivalry this night. I am sure I owe you a great deal.”
He was sorry she was no longer in his arms. Furthermore, he was uncomfortable with her thanks and had no idea why. Then he realized it made him feel good, and he was unused to such a thing.
“It was nothing,” he said, almost brusquely. “I just happened to be in a place where I was needed.”
“Fortunate for me that you were,” her lips formed a sweet, curvy smile. It positively lit up the corridor. “If there is every anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to call upon me. I would be honored.”
To his horror, Brogan’s heart began to beat just a bit faster. Something about the way the woman smiled made his heart race. She was such a lovely creature. He would have had to have been both dumb and blind not to realize her beauty. And her voice was sweet like honey, a purring tone that felt more like a caress than a sound. It flowed over him, across him, through him, like a warm breeze.
He must have been standing there like an idiot for an inordinate amount of time, because she bid him a good eve and began to limp away on a foot that still had a burr in it. Brogan felt very strange watching her turn from him; he didn’t want her to go. He wanted to continue talking to her. He’d never had that reaction before in his life and wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. Maybe it was the emotions of the night, the anguish he had been feeling before the lady plowed into him. She had distracted him from his pain and he was glad for it. Before he could think it all through, he heard himself speak.
“My lady,” he said. “Your horse… if you would like me to help you search for it…”
She paused, her delicious features bathed in a golden glow from the softly burning hall torch. “I hope that will not be necessary,” she said. “I am fairly certain he will have gone back to the stables. But I thank you just the same.”
He didn’t say another word. He didn’t want to sound any more like an idiot than he already did. But she stumbled on her injured foot and fell right to her buttocks. He was on her in an instant.
She was holding her foot up, wincing as she tried to locate the burr that was paining her. Brogan took her little foot in his hand. It was a bold move and she should have yanked her leg away, but she didn’t. Perhaps it was a test of trust, curious about this man who rescued her from the Thames and carried her with such strength. She wanted to see what he was going to do.
“Hold still.” He almost looked around to see who had said that. It was a tone far gentler than he ever knew himself capable of. He spied the prick immediately. “There it is.”
