Page 36 of A Knight for Gwenllian

Yes, she knew that.

“Is Alasdair going with him?”

“Cameron’s squire?” Alexander arched a brow in surprise. “I don’t think so. Why would he?”

Gwenllian shook her head. “No reason.” She hadn’t told anyone what she had seen, even if she had a feeling that Bethan and Cameron knew about the bond between the two men.

“So, you see, I’ll be quite safe. Sir William is a formidable knight, able to hold his own against two men at a time. I’ve seen him spar.”

“Yes. And so are you. I’ve seen you spar as well.”

There was nothing else she could answer. Alexander had thought of everything, and he was not asking for her permission. He didn’t owe her anything. They had never talked of a future, she had known from the start that this was not destined to last. Their folly, if folly it was to sleep together, was destined to end the moment they went back to their normal life. Which would happen as soon as he left, in two days’ time.

She nestled back into his embrace, mind whirring.

“I won’t be coming with you. I told Bethan today that I would travel with her and Cameron in a few weeks’ time. I cannot change my mind now.”

It was perhaps for the best that Alexander left, because she had come to suspect that, if he let her, she might start seeing him as more than an exciting adventure. That had never been the plan.

“Yes.” The finger resumed its idle caress on her arm.

Gwenllian brought her lips to Alexander’s mouth and traced the bottom lip with her tongue, hoping to fan his desire anew. If the groan she heard was any indication, she succeeded.

“Love me, Alexander, while you can.”

It was when she used the word love that she realized it was already too late. She already saw the handsome knight as more than a pleasant diversion, a memory destined to help her deal with a lifetime of solitude.

Worse, the look in his eyes told her he might well feel the same.

“Yes. I will love you while I can.”

There was no more talking that night.

Chapter Twelve

Everyone watched in silence as the two Englishmen galloped away.

Instead of searching for comfort in her friend, Gwenllian found herself shuffling closer to Alasdair. The poor man looked as if his heart had been wrenched out of his body with red-hot pincers. Gwenllian thought she understood how he felt. Except that it seemed to her as if her heart had simply vanished—her chest was hollow, rather than aching.

Either way, it was a most horrid sensation.

Once the riders had been swallowed by the forest, there was nothing else to do than go back inside. It had started to rain, a light drizzle that promised to evolve into a deluge before long. Shivering, she thought of Alexander and William on the road, wet and cold. Couldn’t they have delayed their departure another day?

Apparently not.

“I would like Alasdair to accompany us when we go to Wales,” she declared that evening, while she, Bethan and Cameron ate a simple meal by the fire. The squire would no doubt welcome the opportunity to spend a few days with Willian while they stopped at Sheridan Manor.

Bethan exchanged a knowing glance with her husband.

“Aye, we had already decided to ask him to come,” Cameron said eventually. “A man as strong and skilled as he is will be a real asset on the road. I fear, however, that he will not make it all the way to Esgyrn Castle, so we will take Angus and Murdo with us as well, for the remaining part of the journey.”

“Not make it all the way to Wales?” Gwenllian was surprised. “Why not?”

“It is time he was made into a knight and found his own place to live. I have a feeling he might well decide to settle in England.”

With William.

The words were left unsaid, but she had the feeling that was what he meant. And she agreed. The kiss she had seen had been too passionate, the sadness in Alasdair’s eyes this afternoon too deep. The men were not just sleeping together. They were in love.