A Lancaster. A Lancaster! He hated the name. They all did. Was she here for a reason as he said? Did it have something to do with her being a Lancaster? Was she supposed to confess her identity to him within the next few weeks?Few weeks.Forget it. Send her home right now because—
“Miss Locksley, I will see you out of the hall.” He didn’t wait for her response but rose from his chair and stood over hers.
She didn’t know what to do. Go with him or stay here with Reg. At least Elia was—
“Miss Locksley!” he commanded.
She threw her napkin on the table and stood up. She had to keep reminding herself that he was a fifteenth century oaf and if she went too far, he could throw her out. Or worse. Did the castle have a dungeon?
She bent to pick up her skirts and dress, but Elia beat her to it. “Go now, Miss. I will take care of this.”
“Woman, if you make me call to you one more time—”
Kes straightened and two more pins fell from her hair. “What?” she challenged with her hands on her hips. “What will you do?” She didn’t care if threw her out. There had to be a villager around somewhere who would take her in until she could find her way home or flung herself over the cliffs.
“Are you ready now?” he asked, controlling the tone of his voice.
“I seem to be,” she said, smoothing her kirtle with her palms.
When he offered her his arm, she looked into his eyes for a moment before she accepted it. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she found something different from what the men possessed at home.
Whatever was going on with him made his breath stop and his eyes shine from within.
Was it because of her, as Elia suspected?
What did she think if it was?
Chapter Six
“Miss Locksley?”
“Yes?”
They left the great hall and stopped outside the doors. She was dangerous, with her hair springing down her temples, Nicholas thought while his heart still pounded from the challenges she threw at him inside. In front of Reg.
Damnation, nothing had been so thrilling off the field in a long while now. She was dangerous and delightful, facing the beast head on, boldly and courageously. She said she was a distant relative of the Duchess of Glastonbury. He would send word to Glastonbury by the king’s couriers and ask if there was a record of Kestrel Locksley in their books. Even if she did descend from nobles in Glastonbury, it didn’t mean she was a Red. Glastonbury was one of the towns in Somerset that did not stand on either side.
“I’m heading to the stable. I have things to see to. The castle entrance is there.” He pointed over her shoulder. “I shall see you at supper.”
Did she appear disappointed? He couldn’t tell. She definitely appeared to be fighting some desire. He glanced down at her hands. They were balled into fists. He stepped back.
“My lord,” she called to him as he turned to walk away.
“Aye?”
“I don’t like being ordered around.”
That much was obvious, he agreed silently. “And I, Miss Locksley, am not accustomed to my every word being challenged.”
“Disappointing,” she said, looking him over. “I thought you could meet the challenge. I was wrong.”
Damn it, he would not chase her. He would not! He’d lain awake all night promising himself that he would step back from Miss Locksley. Now, was the hardest temptation so far. She’d sparked his blood and he had to walk away. Why, after he had trained himself not to be distracted by women, not while there were battles to be fought, did this oddling capture his thoughts?
Was she putting him under her spell? It certainly felt as if she were. He’d known after hours of contemplation last night what he had to do. She was too volatile. Hadn’t she just proven it? Shouting at him for all to hear?
Why did it amuse him? Why did he think her the bravest soul he knew?
She was dangerous. Aye. He had to detach himself from her. If that meant staying away from her, that is what he would do. He wouldn’t throw her out. He was no heartless savage. Despite what was whispered about him by campfires at night, he was only a savage when he needed to be.