Page 9

Local sweet treats, she no doubt meant, treats she was unable to resist. “You will have to try the honey cakes later on. Siaspar’s cook makes the best ones I have ever tasted.”

For the first time that evening, Johanna’s eyes lit up. The mention of the cakes had done what he’d hoped. At last, he had broken through the awkwardness between them. And so from that point on, the conversation remained on food. Though he sounded more like a cook than a warrior, Cadell had no choice but to make his peace with it. At least he didn’t insult or snap at her. He had to be happy with that.

Once Siaspar and Katherine indicated that the meal was over, he stood up. Johanna rose at the exact same time, so he took a step back to give her space. Unfortunately, the person behind him, a rather portly woman, chose that moment to stand up as well, preventing him from doing what he’d meant to do. In the confusion, despite his best efforts not to, Cadell ended up stepping on Johanna’s toes.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, mortified. “Forgive me, I⁠—”

“It’s not a problem,” she cut in smoothly, glancing over to the other woman, who seemed oblivious to what she had done. “These things happen.”

Was it his imagination or was her smile forced? No. Perhaps not. She thought him a rude fool, and after his performance that evening, who could blame her?

“Lady Johanna, would you join me in a game of gwyddbwyll?” Katherine called. “I discovered it recently. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Of course.”

Cadell watched her go with a sinking heart. This meeting he had waited years for, had been a complete disaster.

3

Cadell tightened the girth on his stallion’s saddle with decision.

This would be difficult but it had to be done. He could not allow what had happened the night of the banquet to be the last image Johanna had of him. She would have thought him either a rude boor or a clumsy idiot. Or both. It could not be borne. And anyway, regardless of what had happened, he couldn’t not see her again. There was no telling how long she would remain in Wales now that her Welsh husband had died. It was already a miracle that she had come back when nothing obliged her. No matter how hard it was, he would not let another ten years pass before he saw her again. Another ten days would already be too long.

So go to Bryn Glas he would, and find a way to make amends.

He nudged Haearn into a comfortable canter as soon as he reached the open fields. From his home by the sea it would take him the best part of the day to reach Johanna’s castle, but perhaps that was not such a bad thing. Hopefully, by the time he got there, he would have put some order to his thoughts and found an adequate way of explaining his behavior the other night.

That decision made, he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the feel of his horse moving under him.

Eventually, Bryn Glas appeared at the top of the familiar heather-covered hill. In the first few years after Johanna and Rhun’s wedding, Cadell had often come lurking around, in the hope that the couple would visit their Welsh estate. But it appeared that, if Rhun often came, Johanna had elected to live in England, not Wales.

He was starting to get nervous at the idea of facing her again when he spotted movement in the distance. A woman was walking on the path ahead, leading an elegant black palfrey by the bridle. The mane on her head was an exact match for the horse’s coat. It was shiny in the sunshine that had just pierced through the clouds, and appeared just as smooth. How many nights had he stroked himself while imagining running his fingers into that luscious mass of hair? How many days had he spent imagining the inky strands spread over his bed while he caressed every inch of her body? Far too many.

She didn’t need to turn around for him to know this was none other than the woman he had come to see.

He called out to her, surprised she had not yet seemed to hear his approach. But perhaps the sound of her horse’s hooves squelching in the mud had blocked out any other sound.

“Lady Johanna?”

Hearing her name caused her to skid to a halt. When she turned and saw him, she let out something half way between a whimper and a sigh. It was clear that, despite her shock at being called out, she was glad to see him, which reassured him in turn. He had dreaded to see her scowl at him. But apparently his appalling behavior of the other day had been forgotten.

“Cadell. Thank God.”

Thank God? Surely, even if she had forgiven his curtness, she shouldn’t be so relieved to see him? Unless…

Allowing his gaze to roam over her, he noticed she was holding her left arm straight, in an odd, unnatural manner. And why was she leading her horse, instead of riding? The mud made the going heavy, nothing like a pleasant stroll a lady might take. He jumped from the saddle and took the bridle from her right hand. Something was wrong, he was sure of it.

“Has something happened to you?” he asked when she winced. “Are you injured?”

His heart gave a lurch at the thought. Was that why she was walking? Because she had been thrown from the saddle and hurt herself? Or was it even worse? Had she been attacked? But she appeared unscathed, even if her dress was muddy.

“A stupid accident, nothing more,” she said before he could lose his mind in worry. “I slipped in the mud when I dismounted from Blossom to let her have a drink. I fell backward and hurt my wrist when I landed. It’s not broken, I don’t think. But as I cannot hoist myself into the saddle and ride, I had no other choice but to walk.”

She nodded at her left wrist and made a face. Though he hated knowing she was in pain, Cadell was relieved to know she had not been set upon by ruffians or thrown by her mare.

“Is it very painful?”

“N-no.”