Page 20 of Ella’s Desire

He popped his head back in the sweet-smelling room. “I beg your pardon?”

“Ella.” Leila scratched Hardy under the chin. “She’s always loved the idea of heroes in stories.” She shrugged. “Be her hero and you’ll have an easier time winning her heart.”

Her hero?

Bronson offered his thanks and slipped from the hut. He’d always been one to win over people, and Leila had just given him the key to unlocking Ella. If being a hero would be what was necessary to win her over, then he would become a damn hero.

7

Since Ella’s determination to soften herself to Calville, she hadn’t seen him. She’d wanted to thank him for his generosity in allowing them both more time.

Though she doubted she’d find him in the solar, she entered and discovered Cat sitting perched on the end of the window seat with a square of unfolded parchment in her hands.

“Have you seen Lord Calville?” Ella pulled Moppet from the little bag at her side. He tended to display a temper when she carried him about too long. He scampered out, drawing several acorns with him from the bag’s depths.

Cat beamed at her. “It’s from Geordie.” Her shining gaze skimmed over the missive and she elicited a laugh. “The knights told him they’ve never seen a bowman more skilled than he. And he said when he told them about me, they didn’t believe a woman could handle a bow like that. He wishes I could join him to show them all.” She sighed wistfully “I wish I could be there.”

It was still a strange thing to see Cat without Geordie, like the sun without a summer day to shine upon. It had been a long two years since Sir Richard had retired and Geordie had gone on campaign with the king’s knights for the rest of his training.

Cat hadn’t been the same without him.

“Not much longer now,” Ella offered hopefully and put Moppet into Cat’s hands.

Cat offered a sad smile and rubbed at Moppet’s belly. “It’ll be another winter at least until he’s home. Why did Papa have to send him away?”

“To give him the experience he needs to become a knight.” Ella softened her tone and ruffled a hand over Cat’s silky hair. “You know that. You supported it too.”

“I did.” Cat traced a finger affectionately over Geordie’s looping script. “I still do.” She sighed. “Lord Calville was in the courtyard when I saw him last. It was not too long ago, and I imagine he could not have wandered far.”

Ella watched her younger sister for a moment. It was a rare thing to see Cat fall prey to melancholy. Rare and sad.

Wordlessly, Ella pressed a kiss to her sister’s smooth forehead.

Cat smiled up brightly at her. “May I read you the whole missive tonight as we ready for bed?”

“I’d love nothing more,” Ella replied affectionately. She missed Geordie; they all did. Though he’d entered their home as prisoner years before, a sacrifice for his father’s lies, he had become one of the family. He was a good young man with a good heart, always eager to please, quick with praise. He’d been Cat’s closest companion.

“You can leave Moppet here, if you like,” Cat offered. “His company is pleasant.”

As if understanding what Cat had said, Moppet snuggled into a tight ball in her lap and his beady eyes slid closed.

Ella embraced Cat, careful not to disturb the sleeping squirrel, then navigated her way out of the castle and into the courtyard. Several of Werrick Castle’s soldiers passed this way and that, but the bailey was otherwise empty. She turned to go back into the castle when she heard a familiar voice.

Calville.

“I suspected that was the case,” he said. “When can we expect them?”

She followed his rumbling baritone all the way to the stables and stopped. The familiar sweet scent of hay mingled with the mustiness of horse sweat. An ache settled in her chest. She hadn’t been to the stables in several days. Not since…

Shame heated through her. Not since she’d thrown herself at Peter and been rejected. Her hesitation to enter made her grit her teeth with frustration. This was her home. She ought to feel comfortable going anywhere. Even the stables.

“They’ll be along in a month or so, I suspect,” Peter said.

Ella’s heart slapped her ribs at the familiar sound of his deep, smooth voice and her feet refused to pull her forward.

She glanced inside at the two men. First to Peter, who made her stomach flutter with the same giddy excitement he always had, but there was something else sitting heavily within her—a rock of regret. Next, she studied Calville, who stood slightly taller than the Master of the Horse, his back straighter, prouder.

Calville’s body was bulkier, his arms thicker, his shoulders wider, and his features were not so fine as Peter’s. Nay, they were hard angles and those soft, soft lips. Her pulse quickened and the memory of their gentle kiss flitted into her thoughts.