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Guy stood then, pushing away from the tree and extending his hand. And she knew from his slow smile that he actually understood how important it was for her to finish what her parents had started.
Not for the first time, it struck her that she was meant to overhear his conversation with the bishop.
“’Tis well we met,” he said, assisting her up. “And I readily accept your offer of assistance.”
She took his hand and was almost disappointed he let it go after helping her up. Perhaps she’d misjudged this husband of hers.
“And will gladly accept your other offer as well before we reach Noreham.”
“Other offer?”
When he looked back at her, Sabine chastised herself for entertaining such gracious sentiments toward the mercenary. Other offer indeed.
She would see that no such offer was extended. Ever.
The sound of his laughter echoed through the forest around them.
Chapter 10
“Married?”
Guy had almost avoided Licheford Castle for this reason. Unfortunately, he needed to speak to Conrad, and his friend’s holding was directly in Noreham’s path. But Conrad, of course, sought an explanation.
“I will explain later.”
He prayed Conrad did not press him. After two days of hard travel, Sabine was in need of a bit of rest. And a bed.
That thought immediately led to another. One that continued to assail him given the close proximity of his wife, the only woman he’d ever met who appeared immune to his charms. Unfortunate, that. Now that Guy knew her story, he no longer begrudged her for the way she’d waylaid him at Holybourne. The opposite, in fact.
He admired the hell out of her.
Conrad, ever the gentleman, had already made his way to Sabine. He saw her glance briefly at the scar that ran from his cheekbone to his jaw. An odd, unidentifiable sensation assaulted him as his friend assisted her in dismounting. The way she looked at him . . .
Of course, she’d admired the castle too, and he could not deny both the holding and the man were grand in every way. Conrad’s father had possessed an even more commanding presence. His handshake had been so vigorous, Guy could still feel his grip.
Dismissing the thought, he followed the earl and Sabine into the keep. They climbed a set of stairs, arriving in the great hall moments later. He watched Sabine’s face as she stared up at the wall hangings.
Conrad’s mother had a passion for embroidery and color. As a result, Licheford Castle had become known for her talent nearly as much as it was for the former earl’s temper.
“They are . . . spectacular.”
Conrad smiled as he did every time his mother’s work was appreciated. They were not all her doing, of course. But her handiwork could be seen throughout the hall. And the hardened knight, now an earl, could not be prouder.
“Thank you. My mother had an affinity for creating them. That one”—he pointed to a bright green banner hanging just behind the dais—“is our family crest. It was her favorite.”
It occurred to him then Conrad and Sabine had much in common. Like Sabine, Conrad had also lost both parents, in their case within a sennight of each other. Although the culprit had been more apparent in his case—his parents had succumbed to a mysterious illness that had nearly claimed him as well. A dark time in Saint-Clair history.
“’Tis lovely. You must have been very proud.”
Conrad studied Sabine just a bit too intently for Guy’s taste. “Indeed,” he said, pointing to her waist. “Your own creation?”
What the hell was Conrad pointing at?
“Indeed.”
Sabine’s hands moved to the embroidered belt around her waist. Leather with bits of ribbon hanging from the ends. He had noticed the unusual piece but had not remarked on it.
“My mother taught me, as her mother did before her. Though she is no longer with me”—she let go of the belt—“I very much hope to carry on the tradition.”
