Read Lyon's Gift for Free Online Page A

either? “Rotten Sassenachs
don’t the meaning of the word friendship!” she muttered
crossly.

 
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER 4
     
     
    “ Lyon was determined to
keep his borders well defended.
    After his last raid, he wasn’t taking
chances. Those damned Brodies were as devious as London thieves,
and just as bold, raiding in the broadest light of day. This last
round had been his victory, and he was damned well going to keep it
that way.
    He swore to God they must sprout limbs and
leaves, playing like bloody trees to his face, and then when he
turned his back they scurried away like rats with their stolen
cheese.
    Damn, but they were good.
    Only, he intended to be better.
    He and Baldwin were now appraising his land
to determine the best course of defense.
    “ Well now!” Baldwin
exclaimed, sliding back down the flank of his steed after another
failed attempt to mount. “Do you see what I see, Lyon?” He shielded
his embarrassment behind a mask of interest and stepped away from
his horse in order to better see through the lush woodland
foliage.
    Lyon had spied the approaching woman long
before Baldwin had turned his attention from his struggles, and her
presence did, in fact, engage him, but his concern for his friend
overrode his curiosity for an instant. “I do indeed,” he answered.
“But do you realize that these bare-arsed Scots would have easily
overtaken you just now?”
    Baldwin’s ears turned red.
    “ I’ve given you leave to
ride free of your armor,” Lyon said. “I think it best under the
circumstances. These Scots do not battle as we do; they fight free
of the restraints of armor. What good will your mail do you if your
movements are so sluggish that they’ve a blade to your throat long
before you can manage to mount your horse?”
    Baldwin set his jaw stubbornly. “It took me
years to earn this armor, Lyon,” he said, facing Piers.
    Lyon understood what the small defiance cost
him, for Baldwin was ever dutiful, ever faithful. He would badger
Lyon on occasion, as any longtime companion might, but when it came
to matters of war, he obeyed Lyon’s every word.
    “ I shall practice
swiftness, but do not ask me to cast away my honors,” Baldwin
begged.
    “ As you will
it.”
    Baldwin smiled. “I shall exercise more,” he
swore. “You have my word.”
    “ I’ve little doubt you
will.” Lyon offered a reluctant smile in return.
    “ Thank you, Lyon.” With
that settled between them, he once again peered out through the
covert, watching the woman make her way toward them down the narrow
lane. “I wonder who she is,” he remarked as she came into clearer
view.
    “ I’m certain I’ve no
idea,” Lyon answered, bending low over his mount to peer beneath
the overhanging limbs. With his height, he was afforded a clearer
view, but the forest was overgrown with vegetation. “She’s coming
from our direction, it seems.”
    ““ From our land, do you
mean?”
    Lyon didn’t answer; his attention was
completely engaged now by the approaching woman.
    His first impression of her was of willowy
limbs and shimmering hair: she was tall and thin, with a lithe,
slim form that swayed with feminine self-assurance as she walked.
And that hair—a wanton mass of coppery ringlets—ignited like the
biblical burning bush as she passed through a nimbus of light from
above.
    And then she neared enough for him to see
her face, and his breath caught.
    Christ, but she was an angel incarnate!
    That face... it was a face he imagined
belonged to Helen of Troy... or to the Aphrodite of legend.
    Her delicate features were nothing less than
perfection—her nose not tiny and upturned, like that of a child’s,
but straight and lovely.
    And her eyes... He could not see their color
at this distance, but they were almond-shaped and exotic like those
of the Saracen women he’d encountered in his travels.
    And her mouth... it was full and sensual...
A mouth that demanded to be kissed... A mouth formed by