His eyes widening, he gave a mighty shriek of surprise.
The frightened hen squawked back in reprisal. It raised its wings and flapped about in Emily’s hands as it fought for freedom. Emily let go only to have it launch itself at Theodore who raised his arm to ward it off as her sister hens joined the fray. The hen he’d kissed pecked at his head, leaving tufts of his thin, greasy hair sticking straight up while the others gathered about his feet, tripping him up.
Both chicken and man tumbled backwards in a cacophony of curses and clucks.
With a curse to shame all others, Theodore stumbled into a water trough where he landed on his backside. Water splashed up all around him and she had to take a step back to keep from being doused. The chicken screeched, then shot to the edge of the trough where it buried its head in its feathers in an effort to smooth the damage Theodore had done.
As Theodore came sputtering up from the water, the chicken moved to rest upon his head.
Emily burst into laughter.
“The gentlest maid on earth? Hugh, your lies know no bounds.”
That deep, resonate baritone was not the voice of her men-at-arms. And the only man at Warwick named Hugh was her father. Her laughter dying in her throat, Emily turned about to see her father in a company of fifteen men. By his face, she could tell the depth of her father’s displeasure.
Still, relief overwhelmed her at his presence. At last, she would have to tolerate Theodore no more.
She took a step and her gaze went to the left of her father. On the back of the whitest stallion she had ever seen, sat a knight wearing a red surcoat emblazoned with a black raven. Even though she couldn’t see the man’s face, she could feel his gaze upon her like a blistering touch.
Emily stopped dead in her tracks.
Never had she seen his like. He sat tall in the saddle as if he and the horse were one creature, united in power and in form.
His mail armor draped most sinuously over a body rock hard from years of training. His shoulders were thrown back with pride, and the mail only emphasized the breadth of them.
This was a man who commanded attention. A man used to control and authority. It bled from every part of him.
As she watched him, her gaze unwavering, he reached up and removed his great helm.
Her heart stopped beating an instant before it pounded. Never in her life had she seen a man so handsome. Eyes so light a blue they seemed to glow stared out from a chiseled face surrounded by his silver chain mail coif. The black brows that slashed above his eyes told her his hair must be the color of a raven’s wing.
There was something mesmerizing in his gaze. Deep intelligence shone there along with a guarded look that kept his emotions well hidden. She had the impression that nothing escaped his attention. Ever.
For all his handsomeness though, there was a hardness to his features that told her a smile was all but alien to this stranger.
He raked her with a bold, assessing stare that set fire to her blood as he cradled his helm beneath his arm. She couldn’t tell what he thought of her, but as his gaze paused over her bosom, she felt her breasts tighten in response to it. A foreign warmth ripped through her, pooling its heat at the core of her body.
“What goes here?” her father demanded as he dismounted and moved to her side.
She jumped at his thundering tone, grateful for the distraction from the strange things the knight’s gaze had done to her.
Theodore shooed the chicken from his head and climbed out of the trough while trying to look dignified.
He failed miserably.
“I think you should ask your daughter if it is always her habit to attack any man who annoys her with a chicken,” the handsome knight said with a hint of amusement in his voice. His face, however, showed nothing.
“Silence, Ravenswood,” her father snarled. “You know nothing of my daughter, nor her habits.”
“That will change soon enough.”
Emily cocked a brow at the comment. Whatever did he mean by that?
If she didn’t know better, she would say it bespoke of a possible betrothal. But that was about as likely as her giving Theodore a long, passionate kiss.
Her father had always refused to have his daughters leave his home and had Joanne not been caught in the midst of naughtiness with Niles, she, too, would be forced to live out her days at Warwick.
A prisoner to their father’s fears.
