Denise Lynn - The Warrior's Runaway Wife

‘What about you? It will do little good for you to catch a chill.’

‘I won’t get sick from a little rain.’

She looked up at the animal next to her and, even though it was the smallest of the lot, she wondered how she was going to scramble up on something that tall. Before she could ask, Elrik wrapped both hands round her waist and lifted her up on to the saddle.

Avelyn swung a leg over to the other side and tucked the long edges of his cloak beneath her legs. She took a deep breath before taking the offered reins in her hands, then stated, ‘I am ready.’

She could only hope her words sounded more confident to him than they had to her own ears.

‘You will be fine.’ He patted her knee before mounting his own horse.

* * *

By the time they stopped a few hours later, the rain had ceased and now the clouds had begun to part allowing the stars to twinkle against the darkening sky.

Avelyn shivered on her log seat before the fire and barely tasted the food in her mouth. She was tired and stiff from riding. Her hands ached from holding on to the reins so tightly the entire time and her thighs burned from clamping them against the saddle in an attempt not to fall.

Her rescuer, Lord Elrik, had said nothing, but she’d felt him watching her the entire time and had feared that at any moment he was going to pluck her from her horse and plop her in front of him on his. She had to admit that there had been a couple of times when she’d not have argued with that arrangement. Times when they’d ridden too fast, or when the road beneath the horse’s hooves seemed to rise too steeply as they’d climbed a hill.

To her amazement, she’d managed. But right now, she was most thankful to be planted firmly on solid ground. Her only desire was to curl into a ball and give over to the beckoning sleep teasing at her sluggish mind.

Elrik leaned against a tree and watched Avelyn sway and then quickly jerk upright as she stopped herself from falling asleep right there on the log. It was obvious the woman was exhausted. It’d been more obvious that riding a horse was not something she’d been taught.

They’d lost a few hours due to her inexperience and that was something he couldn’t afford to let happen tomorrow. She wasn’t going to be pleased, but they needed to make up some time and would only be able to do so if she rode with him.

The thought of holding her before him, his arms around her, his chest a platform for her back, didn’t seem as unappealing as he might have expected. Granted, she would argue and put up a fuss at first, but she would soon become accustomed to the feel of his body against hers. After all, it wasn’t as if they would be doing anything unseemly.

He groaned softly at the image that thought had conjured.

Elrik shook the vision from his mind. What was wrong with him? Had a comely body and pretty face made him suddenly lose the ability to reason? She was Brandr’s daughter. Hadn’t that family already caused him enough trouble?

Besides, a woman was the last thing he needed in his life—no matter how attractive he’d found her. Experience had taught him that women were not worth the time, expense or heartache they brought along with them.

Hadn’t Muriel given him enough grief to last two lifetimes?

No. Holding her in front of him would not do. He needed to come up with some other way of keeping her securely on the horse.

Avelyn swayed on her seat again, but caught herself with a jerk that brought her upright once again.

When she once again swayed on the log, she’d been slower to jerk herself awake.

Elrik pushed away from the tree, knowing that this next sway would not be stopped as successfully. He caught her in his arms a heartbeat before she hit the ground.

Cradling her against his chest, he carried her to the makeshift pallet spread out not too far from the warmth of the fire and placed her on the blanket. Without waking, she instantly rolled on to her side, curling into a relaxed ball with a hand beneath her cheek.

He grabbed his mantle, which, after it had been dried by the fire, had been laid alongside the pallet, and covered her with the fur-lined garment. After tucking the edges tightly around her, he rose and stared at a wayward ebony lock of hair resting against the paleness of her cheek.

He had to give Brandr credit for one thing at least. The man could be a traitorous viper at the best of times, but he had produced a very lovely daughter.

Elrik joined his men near the fire.

Just as he stretched his legs out to get comfortable, Fulke asked, ‘How are you going to deliver her to King David if she falls from her horse and breaks her neck first?’

Not one to let a question go without comment, Samuel said, ‘It isn’t her neck we should be worried about. At the rate we are travelling, it’ll be our own necks in danger.’

Sometimes, like now when complaining seemed the current activity of choice, Elrik had to remind himself that these were more than just childhood friends, they were his two best men—they could both sleep in the saddle while still retaining control of their horses, both were handy with a blade be it a sword or a dagger and both men would always protect his back if the need arose. So, enduring their complaints was usually bearable.

This was not one of those nights. ‘The pace will pick up tomorrow and she’ll not break her neck.’

When Samuel opened his mouth, Elrik glared at him. The dark look gained him the result he’d desired—the man closed his mouth without saying another word.

Chapter Three

To Avelyn’s relief, she’d slept well on the hardness of the ground. It was more like her old pallet at her mother’s than the over-soft, lumpy mattress in her shared chamber at her father’s keep. For the first time in what seemed ages, she’d awakened feeling rested, although a bit stiff, and ready to continue their journey.

She did wish, however, they could do so on foot instead of on the back of a horse.

Well aware that her wish would not be considered, she studied the horse being led in her direction. It was the one she’d ridden yesterday, the smallest of the four, but as far as she was concerned the only difference size made was in the distance to the ground—the fall would still hurt as much.

What did catch her attention was the saddle. The one she’d used yesterday—with the shorter pommel and cantle—had been placed on Roul’s animal, while his saddle, with the high front and back meant to help keep him seated during a battle, was on her horse. Lashed to the inside of both the pommel and the cantle was a rolled-up blanket.

That wasn’t the only difference. The stirrups had been cinched higher so that she’d be riding with her knees slightly bent, instead of hanging straight down, and a lead string had been secured to the reins.

Roul held his hand out. ‘Come, we need to make up for lost time.’

She hesitantly took a step forward and grasped his hand.

The fingers closing around hers were warm and a smile curved up the corners of his mouth, lending Avelyn a small amount of courage as she joined him alongside the horse.

He stroked his free hand the length of the animal’s nose. ‘I didn’t properly introduce you yesterday as I should have. Avelyn, this is Little Lady and she’s helped train more guards than I can count.’

‘You brought her along to train a guard?’

With his fingers still woven between hers, he raised their hands to the horse’s head. ‘No. I was uncertain if the runaway I sought could ride or not.’

He stroked the animal’s neck with their entwined hands. ‘And since I’ve discovered that she cannot, I am giving Little Lady here a task she is well suited to perform.’

From the way the animal eyed her, Avelyn got the impression she was not exactly a welcome task.