Another of the Steering the Craft exercises…
Mellisande sat in the arbour of the castle’s rose garden, pretending to work on a delicate piece of embroidery. In truth, she was watching her guard. Why she was under the direct protection of one of the castle commander’s most trusted deputies was a question she dearly wanted an answer to.
It was unlikely to be forthcoming, at least from this man, he was about as talkative as the carved stone she sat on, and as yielding as well. Still, he was good to look at, even in stolen peeks. Tall, broad-shouldered and muscular from years of military training, he stood to one side of the entrance to the little folly, his vivid green eyes scanned the garden beyond in a constant movement.
Those eyes. They skewered her every time she found the courage to meet them, brilliant as jewels against the tanned darkness of his face and deep brown hair. It annoyed her that she found the courage so seldom, she was not normally a shrinking violet, she was the daughter of Lord Wolfsbane of Southhold and as bred to command as her brothers.
Her spine straightened and she turned her head to the object of her thoughts. “A question, Captain.”
~~
Mellisande sat in the arbour of the castle’s rose garden, pretending to work on a delicate piece of embroidery. In truth, she was watching her husband. Why he had put aside his commitments and duties as Duke of Northhold to see to her protection personally was a question she dearly wanted an answer to.
He would not volunteer the information. In this mood he was about as talkative as the stone she sat on, and as yielding as well. She gave up all pretence of stitchery and studied him as he stood to one side of the entrance to the little folly, his vivid green eyes scanning the garden beyond in a constant movement.
She smiled a little. Those eyes. They still made her heart skip a beat every time she met them. They moved to her now, a question in the tilt of the dark brows above in response to her stare.
She liked having him with her, liked knowing she was important to him, but she wanted to know why he was there. She summoned her best flirtatiously level stare. “A question, My Lord.”
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