Page 42 of A Knight for Gwenllian

“I was sorry to have to tell her ladyship you were not here, my lord. But I see you met her on the road.”

“Yes.”

Did the man suspect that they had done a lot more than simply “meet?” He hoped not. The last time Gwenllian had been here, she’d only been a guest, they had not yet slept together, so he hoped no one would guess things had changed between them since then.

“You resolved the matter, then?” Peter asked innocently. “I wondered what had the poor villager in such a state.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Alexander muttered. “And now if you’ll excuse us, her ladyship is in need of a drink.”

“Of course, I’ll send Emelie to you straight away. Let me get your horses.”

Alexander led the way to the great hall, where moments later, refreshments were served. Once they had drunk their fill of spiced wine and eaten a few wafers, he took Gwenllian’s hand.

“I actually have something to show you. Come.”

Looking intrigued, Gwenllian followed him to the stables. Alexander smiled to himself. He had not imagined he would get to show her the surprise so soon, and he was looking forward to it. As soon as she saw the gray mare, she would have feared never to see again, she started to run.

“Gwlithyn!” she cried, wrapping her arms around the animal’s neck.

“I guess she really is the one? Master Simon was not certain, never having seen her.” And he, of course, had only caught a glimpse of the mare before the ruffians rode away. Still, her coat and allure were distinctive enough that he’d been confident they had the right horse.

“Yes, it is her. But how did you— Where was—? Is she all right?”

“Perfectly all right. We checked.”

Gwenllian could barely talk for relief and emotion. Something within Alexander melted. He rarely, if ever, had the opportunity to give gifts, and he was finding out just how pleasurable it was.

“But I don’t understand. Peter didn’t tell me anything when I came to hand Buttercup over.”

“No. Everyone was under strict instructions not to mention her until I could tell you myself. I wanted to be the one to do so.”

He had wanted to see the expression on her face, witness the pleasure it gave her to be reunited with her horse. And he hadn’t been disappointed. This, more than anything else, told him that he was starting to feel dangerous things for her. And, undeniably, it worried him. That he desired her was understandable; she was just too damn alluring for any man to resist. That he wanted to please her just for the pleasure of seeing the wonder on her face was less justifiable. Alexander swallowed. Was he really losing his mind over this woman he could never have? It was not just his decision never to marry that stood in his way, it was her conviction that she would live in Wales in her brother’s castle. Whatever future they might have had been doomed from the start. For a wild moment, overcome by his joy at seeing her again, at giving her her horse back, he had forgotten all those barriers.

It was time he remembered them.

“Where was she?” Gwenllian asked, giving her mare another caress. Mercifully, she seemed oblivious to his musings.

“I had left instructions, as you know, for my men to investigate and recover her while we went to Scotland. They found her in the stables of a local lord named Sir Roland Pomeroy. He had only just bought her from a villager.”

“So, your men found my attackers?”

His face darkened. “Alas, they did not. Believe me, I would have liked nothing more than to see them punished, but the man Sir Roland had purchased the mare from was a young lad who could barely string two words together. It was obvious he did not know what he was doing or that the horse had been stolen. My guess is that the bastards who took Gwlithyn sent him to do the dirty work so as to avoid punishment. They were right to be wary, as simple villagers being in possession of such a horse would have raised suspicion and questions would have been asked.”

Gwenllian nodded slowly. “In any case, I suppose you bought her? Sir Roland would hardly have given her back to you just for the asking.”

Indeed, Alexander had given instructions that no expenses should be spared if the men did locate the horse, which was fortunate, because Sir Roland had seized this opportunity to ensure he was well compensated for the inconvenience of having to find another mount for his daughter. The sum he had named had been exorbitant, no doubt more than twice the price he had paid the poor lad. Still, Master Simon, the steward, had agreed without comment, knowing Alexander would have paid three times that amount to see the lady reunited with her mare.

“Yes,” he told Gwenllian. “But ’tis no⁠—”

“It is. I will repay you. For her and for the new saddle I see you had made for her, and the new shoes,” she added, nodding to Gwlithyn’s hooves.

Alexander arched a brow. My, but the lady had a sharp eye.

“Very well,” he agreed, already deciding that he would give a plausible but lower price than what Master Simon had actually paid. He understood that she didn’t want to be in his debt, but she had already repaid him tenfold. Money he had, the joy she gave him he had rarely, if ever, experienced.

“I have something else to show you. Or rather, someone else. The new farrier. He is the one who took care of her hooves. He did such an excellent job that we offered him a place to stay here.”

Gwenllian did not comment, but she wondered what made Alexander think she would be interested in meeting Audley’s new farrier, even if he had done an excellent job of shoeing Gwlithyn. Still, she was pleased that he thought she would, because it meant that he was not only interested in the pleasure her body could give him, but also in her as a person. He wanted to share more than a purely physical release with her.