The lord of the castle

chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

"We leave in the morning."

"Do you mean it?" She turned toward the sound of his voice.

She had been counting the days, almost the hours, waiting for this moment.

"Aye. 'Twill be a dangerous journey. And long."

"Yes, my lord."

"Ye are not afraid?"

"Oh, aye, a little. But sure and I would do anything to have my sight back."

"I will do my best to protect ye," he said. "We leave at first light."

She nodded, her smile brighter than the sun at midday.

He left the room, pausing just outside the door to watch her.

Thinking herself alone, she clasped her hands to her breasts and lifted her face upward in an attitude of prayer.

He did not have to divine her thoughts to know what it was she prayed for.

They left early the following morning.

Excitement rippled through Channa Leigh as Darkfest lifted her onto the back of a horse.

Leaning forward, she patted the animal on the neck, loving the silky feel of the horse's coat.

"Have ye ridden before?" Darkfest asked, adjusting her stirrups.

"Never anything so large."

"Well, dinna worry. Clover is a fine beastie, well trained. She will carry ye safely."

He gazed up at Channa Leigh.

She was prettier than a fresh spring morn.

Sitting there, with her skirts spread over the mare's rump, a midnight-blue fur-lined cloak around her shoulders, she looked like a fairy queen going calling.

Gathering up the reins to his own great stallion, he swung into the saddle and settled his own cloak about his shoulders.

He clucked to the stallion, and the horse moved forward with a shake of his great shaggy head.

The mare moved up beside the stallion.

A pretty little gray pack mule followed the horses, the bell around her neck tinkling softly.

The path that led down from the castle was a long and winding one, the narrow road lined by windblown trees and squat shrubs.

He watched Channa Leigh carefully.

She held the reins lightly in one hand, the other hand resting on the pommel.

She seemed at ease in the saddle, her body swaying with the movement of the mare.

The early-morning sun danced in Channa Leigh's hair, making it glisten like spun gold.

His gaze moved over her face and form, delighting in the line of her profile, the sweet curve of her breast.

He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as his body responded to his lustful thoughts.

With an oath he looked away.

This journey was a mistake, he mused ruefully.

In the castle, he could leave her alone when he needed to escape from the havoc she played on his senses.

There was nothing within its walls that could do her harm.

But out here…

there were wild animals that could tear her to shreds, deep ravines she could stumble into, rivers that could sweep her away.