Her Banished Knight's Redemption--The follow-up to award-winning story the Rebel Heiress and the Knight
Page 26
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After half an hour and having ridden some distance from the castle, she toyed with the notion of turning back, then dismissed the idea. Thomas’s funeral loomed like a dark cloud over the day ahead of her and she wanted to enjoy her ride a bit longer. Taking a path that would lead her up into the hills, she decided to ride as far as the lake, which was a thin ribbon of water in a thickly wooded valley. Taking a downward path, which was thickly choked with briars, deftly her horse picked its way along. Catherine knew that when she broke through the trees the view would be well worth it. She was not mistaken. It was a view she had seen many times and revelled in its beauty in all the changing seasons.
Abruptly the foliage parted. From where she stopped a stretch of clear ground cut a swathe some twelve feet in width. To her left, further along the lake, large rocks protruded out of deep water. Dismounting, she took the reins and quietly made her way along the edge of the trees, her gaze fixed on the rocks ahead of her, certain she had heard the soft whicker of a horse. About to step around the rocks forming a sequestered cove screened by a tangle of willows, she quickly stepped back, having seen a horse nibbling the grass and a pile of clothes on the rocks. Moments later there was a splash, followed by the lesser sound and sight of a body, like a dark, sleek blade, cutting its way just below the surface of the water with slow, controlled strokes.
Catherine took a wary step out of the covering willow tree to watch as the swimmer ploughed his way into the centre of the lake, his strokes powerful and sure. She shuddered, thinking that whoever it was would surely freeze to death in the cold November waters of the lake. A thin mist floated just above the surface. She drew back when he turned and swam back to the rocks, then rose ghostlike from the water. His dark hair hung in wet strands about his head and neck. Without even seeing his face Catherine knew he was John Stratton. The water level dropped from his chest to his waist, to his thighs and—she wanted to turn and run, but did not, held in place by the sight of the primeval, glistening form, naked and powerful.
Spellbound, Catherine let her gaze rove over the firm muscled chest and legs, lingering on the patch of dark hair and his manhood protruding there. Despite the coldness of the morning her body became heated, her face red, yet she could not tear her eyes away. Unaware that he was being watched, he began to dress. Rooted to the spot. Catherine continued to watch, her breath ragged and her heart beating loud in her ears. She was careful not to make a sound lest he heard, having no idea how she would explain her presence. How she managed to keep herself hidden until he’d mounted his horse and ridden off she couldn’t say, but she was relieved when the sound of his horse’s hooves could no longer by heard.
Only then did she leave the lake and ride back to Carlton Bray. When she rode into the courtyard she didn’t see the figure standing watching her, no more than a silhouette in the shadows—tall, physically imposing, arrogant even, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
Copyright © 2021 by Helen Dickson
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ISBN-13: 9781488071737
Her Banished Knight’s Redemption
Copyright © 2021 by Maryam Oliver
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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