Silent Knight. Tori Phillips

downed its contents in one ferocious gulp. The Bordeaux’s unaccustomed tang smarted, making his eyes water. By Saint George, he hadn’t meant to drink her wine! Nor to eat her good cheese and sweet fruit. He had promised himself to dine only on bread and water, in penance for his wandering thoughts. He caught himself before he dashed the cup against the rocks. What injury had the cup done him? Nay, ’twas the little temptress’s spell that wove itself about him. A trill of her laughter brought him back to the present. With a quick prayer, asking for strength and forgiveness, Guy rose and ambled back to the group.

      “Eh bien!” Gaston grinned at the sight of the empty cup in Guy’s hand. “It is good you eat and drink well. Forgive my bluntness, Brother Guy, but from the looks of those shoulders, you would have made a better knight for your king than for the good Lord. Those hands were made to draw a bow, hold a sword or stroke a—” Gaston broke off with an abrupt fit of coughing that left his countenance even ruddier than before.

      Maintaining his composure, Guy stared over the sergeant’s shoulder, as if he had no idea what the remainder of Gaston’s observation might have been. The lady, either unmindful of the implied remark or choosing to ignore it, stood and brushed a few crumbs from her gown.

      “Do not tease the good brother so, Gaston,” she remarked mildly, attacking the th sound with a sharp thrust of her tongue. “His shoulders must be wide enough to carry the weight of all our sins with him when he prays for us. N’est-ce pas, Brother Guy?” A flutter of mirth danced on her lips.

      Inside the long sleeves of his robe, Guy clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms. His heart hammered against his chest. How long, O Lord, will I be able to resist her? When his breathing became more steady, he pointed to the sky, then to the horses.

      “Oui, he is right, my lady.” Gaston gave her his arm. “The sun does not wait for us. We must hurry on, if we are to reach a decent inn before dark.”

      “I hope the days to come are as pleasant as this one,” the lady remarked as Gaston helped her into the saddle. She arched one eyebrow at Guy when he settled himself once more on Daisy’s bony back. “I do enjoy such gladsome company. And so we shall make merry all the way to Snape Castle.” She urged her horse into a walk.

      I should be escorting you to my home, Lissa, and not into the maw of the Ormonds.

      That thought from nowhere seared his mind like a flaming arrow. Its sharpness and heat so amazed him, Guy reined Daisy to a halt and found himself sneezing in the dust of the mended wagon as the lady and her luggage ambled past him along the king’s post road.

      By the holy Book, was he fast losing his wits?

      Chapter Five

      

      

      “For shame, Brother Guy!” Celeste clucked her tongue at him. “Why must you frown on such a pretty afternoon? God saw fit to give you a...” She paused as she surveyed him intently. “A passable face, but you mar it with a sour look.”

      Guy could only grimace his frustration. Couldn’t she leave him alone? Why didn’t she talk to Gaston, or one of the other men? Guy squinted into the sun. Two more hours of good light before they would have to start looking for lodging. Surely she could do something else in that time besides concentrating her entire attention upon him. Where were her manners? Hadn’t anyone ever told her she shouldn’t make personal remarks, especially to men she barely knew?

      “Poor Brother Guy,” Celeste continued ignoring his unsociability. “Perhaps the wine at noon did not agree with his digestion. What think you, Starlight?” Leaning over her horse’s neck, she spoke into its pricked ear. All the while, her eyes twinkled with lavender amusement.

      What in the name of all the saints was a mere man supposed to do? She knew he wasn’t allowed to speak. Guy ducked to avoid her pretty eyes. A girl like that shouldn’t possess such winsome weapons. In truth, Guy could not recall another pair of eyes that had glowed with such a joy of life. One glance from her and a man could declare himself drunk from the experience. Her eyes were beautiful, so full of fire, so full of passion, so full of the promise of—

      God forgive him! What was he doing meditating on the eyes of a little black-haired temptress? No doubt his thoughts wandered because he had not been near a woman for over six months. In truth, women bored him, didn’t they? What was more, not one of his former dalliances possessed an ounce of virtue or honor. Nor did this lady, who was not only female—but French! Guy kicked Daisy in the flanks, much harder than he intended.

      The donkey snorted at the sudden command for more speed. Uttering an offensive sound not fit for polite company, Daisy lowered her head and dug her hooves into the dirt of the road. Before Guy realized her intent, she kicked out with her back legs, tossing her rider over her ears. Guy landed headfirst in a ditch. For almost a full minute, his ears rang with the chiming of a hundred cathedral bells and he saw swirling stars instead of the blue sky.

      As the clanging subsided and the heavens regained their correct color, Guy realized that his loose gown had fallen around his ears. The cold air blowing across his bare backside told him that a very private part of his anatomy had made an unexpected appearance. A rich peal of feminine laughter confirmed his worst suspicions.

      Rolling over, he struggled to sit up, despite the fact that the landscape tended to tilt sideways.

      “Magnifique!” Celeste laughed with unabashed humor. Gaston and the men-at-arms joined her. “Forsooth, Brother Guy, I have never seen such... such... ” Another fit of merriment overcame her.

      A string of dormant oaths crowded behind Guy’s lips as he pulled himself into a standing position. He clamped his teeth tightly together to keep back the tide of his righteous anger.

      “Such a beautiful moon in the middle of the day!” The chit managed to complete her sentence before erupting into another gale of laughter.

      The tips of Guy’s ears burned as a hot flush spread itself up from his neck. Perdition take the girl! For a farthing, he would haul the little vixen off her horse, turn her over his knee and soundly administer a well-deserved chastisement to her backside. How dare she laugh at him!

      Guy clambered out of the ditch. His fingers shook with suppressed rage as he snatched up the reins of the innocent-looking donkey. Turning his back to her, he slowly remounted the creature. Surely Father Jocelyn could not have foreseen this situation when he placed the novice under his vow of silence. Guy itched to let loose a torrent of words that would truly shock the brazen minx.

      “Peace, my lady,” Gaston hissed at her. “See? You have offended the good brother. What would your aunt say to this behavior?”

      Celeste managed to stifle her laughter in a series of hiccups before answering. “Gaston! You know very well what she would do. While she scolded me with her tongue, her eyes would have enjoyed the same view as much as mine. Perhaps even more so. In truth, I have never seen...”

      Gaston. cleared his throat loudly, then glared at the other men, who were still sniggering at the memory of the monk’s naked show. “You crawling vermin!” he shouted. “Are you paid to idle about? Be off with you!”

      He punctuated his order with several blistering oaths. Just listening to their richness and variety made Guy feel better. It pleased him even more to see how Celeste blushed at Gaston’s curses. Good! If the girl was going to act like a common serving wench, she deserved to have her sensitivities shocked in return.

      Holding his head high and squaring his shoulders, Guy nudged the now-placid Daisy into a walk. Laugh at his backside? No woman of his considerable experience had ever found his nakedness a rude jest! They had complimented his goodly proportions and firmness in all areas. They had squealed and giggled with delight upon personal inspection of his nether regions. Most particularly, their supple fingers had given pleasurable approval to his hindquarters. Not once had any woman, high-born or lowborn, laughed at the sight of his most sensitive area—until now.

      What a sweep of vanity!

      A