Page 5 of A Knight for Gwenllian

“You were lying in a patch of buttercups when I found you, and your hair matches their shine, so I suppose I could call you Buttercup,” he said eventually.

Gwenllian smiled to herself. Really, she was having a wonderful time, riding on a beautiful day, cradled in a strong man’s arms. And he had just told her he would call her Buttercup because her hair was shiny. To hide her pleasure at this choice of name, she attempted a jest.

“’Tis lucky I did not land in a muddy puddle, I guess. I dread to think what you would have called me then.”

Instead of laughing, Sir Alexander growled. He didn’t seem half as relaxed as she was.

“You should not have landed anywhere, that is precisely the problem. Who were those men? Why were you alone with them? Do you truly not recall anything?”

She sobered. Thrilling as her meeting with the dark knight was, there was no denying that this afternoon could have ended very badly.

“I don’t know who they were, and I doubt I know them. I remember stopping to let my horse have a drink when they— Oh, wait, my mare!” Gwenllian cried out, sitting up in alarm.

How had she not thought before that the animal was not with them?

“I’m afraid the men rode away with her,” Sir Alexander told her. “As I could not stop them and see to you at the same time, I had to let them go. But I’ll have my people look for the mare. She is of a rather distinctive gray hue, and evidently well-bred, so she should attract attention.”

Yes. The mare was beautiful, and very precious to her. And now she was gone.

Just like that, Gwenllian’s good mood evaporated. She had almost been raped, her beloved horse had been stolen, and there would be people at Sheridan Manor worrying about her disappearance. A twinge of guilt wrapped around her heart at the idea of her cousins wondering where she was. What was she doing, playing games, hiding her identity, getting light-headed at the proximity of a man? She should just tell Sir Alexander who she was and ask him to take her home.

But… But the problem was, she didn’t want to.

Nestled in his arms, she felt like she had never felt before, desired, beautiful, mysterious.

Aroused.

This man seemed to have been created to appeal to her and awaken a lusty side of her she hadn’t known she possessed. His voice, deep and rich, made her insides vibrate with longing. His mouth, full and wicked, made her want to kiss him. His hair, so thick and shiny, made her…

She blushed all the way to her toes, because she was imagining running her fingers through his hair while he feasted on her intimate parts.

Where had that shocking thought come from? Though she knew about this particular caress, she had never before imagined a man doing that to her, much less imagined herself holding him in place so he could lick her with all the urgency she was suddenly desperate for.

Yes… It would seem that her meeting with the dashing Sir Alexander had turned her into a wanton.

She was wondering what to do about that shocking development when a voice pierced through the forest.

“Help!”

“Oh, Lord, not again,” Sir Alexander groaned, steering his horse in the direction of the cry. Though he seemed put out by a second incident following her rescue so closely, he had not hesitated a moment in going to investigate.

To Gwenllian’s relief, the sight meeting their eyes a moment later was nothing as frightful as the attack on her person had been. A little girl was standing by a slope, looking down at a small pond. Her face lit up when she saw them ride into the clearing.

“My pup, Patch!” she cried, running up to them. “Please, help him. He’s fallen in the water. He can swim, just about, but he’s too small to climb the muddy banks and I fear if I go myself, I will not able to⁠—”

“It’s all right, I’ll go,” Sir Alexander said, jumping down from the saddle. Though it was obvious he could have done without the interruption, he placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder. “What’s your name?”

“Margery, my lord.”

“Well, Margery, don’t worry. I will get your Patch back. He’s not going to bite me, is he?”

Gwenllian could tell he’d only asked the question to distract the girl from her anguish, but, far from reassuring him, Margery made a face. “I don’t think so. But he doesn’t know you so I cannot say for sure…”

“Wonderful,” Sir Alexander muttered under his breath.

Gwenllian pinched her lips to stop herself from laughing. The unlikely scene had made her see another side of the handsome protector, an endearing one. That he had come to her aid had not been extraordinary. Rescuing innocent women from assault was nothing less than what was expected of a knight. But he was now agreeing to go into a muddy pond to fish out a pup belonging to a villager he didn’t know. She knew many men of less importance than him, who would have told the girl to manage the rescue on her own and gone on their way. He had not, and it pleased her.

“It will be all right,” she soothed, while Sir Alexander, forgoing all pretense of dignity, decided to slide on his backside all the way down to the pond. She agreed with him that, given how steep the slope was, it was probably the easiest and safest way to reach the pup.