My Heart Belongs to You (Medieval Romance Trilogy Book 3) by Leigh Bale Page A

hair.”
    His thoughtfulness pleased her and she stared at his retreating back as he went to saddle his stallion.
    After braiding her hair and binding it off with the leather cords, Ysabelle munched on a piece of bread and looked about for signs of Ada.
    In the crisp morning air, the men’s voices carried as clear as bell chimes. Ysabelle turned when she heard her handmaiden’s voice reaching from across the camp.
    “Hurry up and fetch me water. And bring me food,” Ada’s shrill voice reached her.
    Looking harried, three men rushed about to do her bidding. Ysabelle laughed to see the older woman giving them orders. Always efficient, Ada knew how to get things done and would not be denied. Praise the heavens for Ada’s comforting presence.
    “Good morning, fair Ysabelle,” Alex greeted her with a courtly bow.
    Turning, Ysabelle tried to frown, but it was difficult to be angry with such a charismatic man.
    “Good morning,” came her stilted reply.
    “Our lady looks beautiful this morning, does she not?” Alex asked Nicholas.
    With the reins of his charger draped over one arm, Nicholas scowled at his brother.
    Alex seemed not to notice. “How did you sleep, my lady?”
    “Fine, thank you,” she answered in a curt tone.
    “I hope your bed partner was not too boorish?”
    Ysabelle’s lips twitched. Alex’s humor took her off guard and she did succumb, barely swallowing a laugh.
    A low rumble came from Nicholas. Ysabelle wondered why Alex would purposefully goad his brother. Nicholas didn’t seem to realize Alex was playing a game with him. Or perhaps he knew, but didn’t like it.
    “Yes, quite loutish indeed,” she conceded.
    Nicholas glowered at them, his free hand clenched. Thinking she should not press the Ram, Ysabelle turned her head and ignored them both.
    Soon, Nicholas came for her. As she stood, his gaze swept over her, resting on her thick braid. She was woman enough to notice the admiration in his eyes.
    “Thank you for the leather cording,” she said.
    He gave an inaudible murmur and looked down, studying her slim feet and ankles. With little fanfare, he produced another woolen cloak she thought must belong to him.
    Lifting her, he placed her in his saddle. Then, he wrapped the voluminous cloak around her legs and feet so it wouldn’t come lose as they traveled. The warmth enveloped her and his consideration amazed her.
    When he anchored the folds beneath her legs, she made another request. “I would like my own horse, please.”
    “No, Maston told me no mon can ride better than you.”
    A fissure of pride enveloped her, but that wouldn’t get her what she wanted. “I have no doubt your men ride better than me.”
    “I willna give you your own horse and end up chasing you down when you try to escape. Maston said you ride astride, racing across the moors like a heathen when you should be home minding your needlepoint.”
    Shrewd man. “Why would my father tell you such things?”
    His lips twitched as though he resisted a smile. “He warned me that you’re a woman who speaks her mind and does just as she pleases. He said I should know what I was getting myself into before I agreed to wed you. He believed I might have better luck controlling you than he did.”
    Controlling her? By the saints, she was a wealthy heiress and needed no keeper. “My father taught me to run his estates whenever he was oft away, which I do quite admirably. I need no man to tell me what to do.”
    His head dipped in acknowledgement. “Yes, Maston also told me you have a head for numbers and keep an accounting of his flocks, herds, and supplies. No doubt I will also enjoy your many skills.”
    The last was said in a silky tone and she wondered if his praise was genuine. Most men didn’t appreciate her value, except for her efficiency in running her father’s hall. Perhaps the Ram was confident enough in himself that he didn’t feel threatened by an educated woman.
    Biting her tongue, she was more than aware