![Susan King - [Celtic Nights 02]](https://fs.collectorofbookboyfriends.com/573340/thumbs/152x264/susan-king-celtic-nights-02.jpg)
young knight lifted a hand toward her.
Artan lashed out and bit him. Robert leaped back, shaking his hand.
"Watch, pup, and see how 'tis done," another knight called, this one a broad man in a blue surcoat. He shoved Robert aside and grabbed Juliana's hand. He kissed her fingers, his lips hot and repulsive.
"Sweeting, let me show you the pleasures of captivity." He stroked her feathered cap. "Come with me, and discover delight."
Juliana jerked away from his touch. Artan lurched at him. Swearing, the knight stepped back.
"With that devil swan and a black knight to protect her, no man can gain the lady," he muttered. "Avenel, see if you fare any better!"
The dark knight came toward her. He reached out, as had the others. Juliana expected Artan to lash out and bite him.
Avenel opened his closed fist and sprinkled bits of bread inside the cart. Artan snatched at the food.
The knight cocked a brow and looked at Juliana. "Are you hungry?" he murmured. "I can fetch something more appealing than bread crumbs, if you wish."
Surprised, she shook her head.
"I imagine you would like to leave all this nonsense behind," he said quietly.
She nodded, looking up at him.
"Come with me, then, and all will be well."
She shook her head. His calm manner was reassuring and soothing, but his intent was no different than the others.
"Lady Juliana," he murmured, "this competition to win you will go on all night, unless you surrender to someone."
She narrowed her eyes. How had he known her name? The king had not announced it. He must be close to the king, or in league with the guards who watched over her. As for giving in to English will, she would rather live in a prison cell than surrender her body and her will to a king's man. She conveyed her refusal with a haughty angle of her chin.
Avenel reached into a pocket and took out another piece of bread, which he tore into pieces for the swan. "Not all these knights share my agreeable temper. A wring of the neck, a twist of a dagger, and your swan will not protect you for long. The only risk is the crime of harming a swan in England. Apparently 'tis no crime to mock a Scotswoman. You will have to cooperate with me if you would be safe." He spoke low and urgently.
She slitted her eyes. He leaned close, resting a hand on the cart. Artan, busy nibbling, did not even lift his head.
"The king makes a show of his chivalry, but he detests any Scot. If one of those drunken fools wins custody of you, no one will ensure your safety."
Frightened, she watched him with wide eyes. She had to put her faith in him. He had proven himself capable of decency at least, even if his intentions toward her were no doubt sinful.
"Show the king that I have tamed you. Then I can help you."
She would never submit to him just so he could gain favor with his cruel king. Anger flaring, she turned away.
"Better to be tamed by me," he murmured, "than one or more of my drunken comrades. Lady, tell me... did you remember the Swan Knight in your prayers, as you promised?"
Gasping, she stared at him. Only the Swan Knight himself would know of that promise.
She looked at him speculatively. Years had etched his face and made it leaner, harder, but she recognized him now. His eyes were just as she remembered, dark brown, deep and warm, framed in black lashes and serious, straight brows. This was indeed the man who had saved her at Elladoune.
He tipped his head and smiled. "I see you are still in need of a rescue, Juliana Lindsay."
Heart quickening, hope rising, she nodded in answer.
"Give me your hand." He opened his fingers, and she reached out. His grip was warm, dry, and strong. "Now do as I tell you," he murmured. "Act heartstruck for love of me." He lifted her hand and kissed it.
A thrill spun through her at the touch of his mouth. Her knees buckled, and he caught her arm under the elbow. His smile was unexpectedly boyish, tilted, and full of easy charm.
Heartstruck was not so difficult to pretend. She felt
Artan lashed out and bit him. Robert leaped back, shaking his hand.
"Watch, pup, and see how 'tis done," another knight called, this one a broad man in a blue surcoat. He shoved Robert aside and grabbed Juliana's hand. He kissed her fingers, his lips hot and repulsive.
"Sweeting, let me show you the pleasures of captivity." He stroked her feathered cap. "Come with me, and discover delight."
Juliana jerked away from his touch. Artan lurched at him. Swearing, the knight stepped back.
"With that devil swan and a black knight to protect her, no man can gain the lady," he muttered. "Avenel, see if you fare any better!"
The dark knight came toward her. He reached out, as had the others. Juliana expected Artan to lash out and bite him.
Avenel opened his closed fist and sprinkled bits of bread inside the cart. Artan snatched at the food.
The knight cocked a brow and looked at Juliana. "Are you hungry?" he murmured. "I can fetch something more appealing than bread crumbs, if you wish."
Surprised, she shook her head.
"I imagine you would like to leave all this nonsense behind," he said quietly.
She nodded, looking up at him.
"Come with me, then, and all will be well."
She shook her head. His calm manner was reassuring and soothing, but his intent was no different than the others.
"Lady Juliana," he murmured, "this competition to win you will go on all night, unless you surrender to someone."
She narrowed her eyes. How had he known her name? The king had not announced it. He must be close to the king, or in league with the guards who watched over her. As for giving in to English will, she would rather live in a prison cell than surrender her body and her will to a king's man. She conveyed her refusal with a haughty angle of her chin.
Avenel reached into a pocket and took out another piece of bread, which he tore into pieces for the swan. "Not all these knights share my agreeable temper. A wring of the neck, a twist of a dagger, and your swan will not protect you for long. The only risk is the crime of harming a swan in England. Apparently 'tis no crime to mock a Scotswoman. You will have to cooperate with me if you would be safe." He spoke low and urgently.
She slitted her eyes. He leaned close, resting a hand on the cart. Artan, busy nibbling, did not even lift his head.
"The king makes a show of his chivalry, but he detests any Scot. If one of those drunken fools wins custody of you, no one will ensure your safety."
Frightened, she watched him with wide eyes. She had to put her faith in him. He had proven himself capable of decency at least, even if his intentions toward her were no doubt sinful.
"Show the king that I have tamed you. Then I can help you."
She would never submit to him just so he could gain favor with his cruel king. Anger flaring, she turned away.
"Better to be tamed by me," he murmured, "than one or more of my drunken comrades. Lady, tell me... did you remember the Swan Knight in your prayers, as you promised?"
Gasping, she stared at him. Only the Swan Knight himself would know of that promise.
She looked at him speculatively. Years had etched his face and made it leaner, harder, but she recognized him now. His eyes were just as she remembered, dark brown, deep and warm, framed in black lashes and serious, straight brows. This was indeed the man who had saved her at Elladoune.
He tipped his head and smiled. "I see you are still in need of a rescue, Juliana Lindsay."
Heart quickening, hope rising, she nodded in answer.
"Give me your hand." He opened his fingers, and she reached out. His grip was warm, dry, and strong. "Now do as I tell you," he murmured. "Act heartstruck for love of me." He lifted her hand and kissed it.
A thrill spun through her at the touch of his mouth. Her knees buckled, and he caught her arm under the elbow. His smile was unexpectedly boyish, tilted, and full of easy charm.
Heartstruck was not so difficult to pretend. She felt
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