Mary Gillgannon Read Online Free Page B

fancy a drink myself. Saving damsels in distress is damn tiring business.”

Three
    “I ’ve done it again, haven’t I?” Marguerite sighed as they rode toward Repton Abbey. “Papa will be truly wroth with me this time. I don’t know how I’ll ever explain.”
    Astra nodded, unsure whether to comfort her friend or scold her. Marguerite had accomplished one of her astounding changes of mood. At this moment at least she appeared contrite.
    “I truly didn’t mean to get us into such a plight. How was I to know those men were little more than criminals?”
    “Really, Marguerite,” Astra admonished. “I grew up in a convent, and even I knew they were untrustworthy. Why ever did you allow them to lead us into the woods, away from everyone?”
    “You could have said something, Astra. If you were worried, why didn’t you insist we return to our escort?”
    Astra pressed her lips together and didn’t answer. Why indeed?—she wondered. Was she so eager for an adventure she was willing to risk being kidnapped and ravished? Mother of God! She should never have left the convent if she was going to act like such a fool.
    “I’m sorry, Astra,” Marguerite said after a moment. “You are right. You trusted me to take care of you, and I failed you.”
    “That’s not true,” Astra protested. “You didn’t mean to lead me into danger. And the rest of the day was wonderful... the fair, the food, all the pretty things...” She couldn’t resist smiling at the memory of the delights she had experienced.
    Marguerite smiled back. “Speaking of pretty sights,” she teased. “Were those young knights not thrilling? I’ve never seen such shoulders as the one called Richard had. No wonder they call him the Black Leopard!”
    Astra’s smile faded. “I thought he behaved very oddly. He kept staring at me. I can almost feel his eyes upon me even now.” She gave an involuntary shudder.
    “Perhaps he was so bedazzled by your beauty, he could not look away.”
    Astra gave her friend a disbelieving look. Their plain gray bliauts and white wimples were spattered with mud and blood, and Astra’s face felt so sweaty and filthy she could hardly bear it. Compared to the stunningly attired women she had seen at the fair, it was inconceivable that any man would look twice at her. Still, Sir Richard’s interest in her had been unmistakable. He had watched her so intensely, his eyes seeming to burn through the slits of his helmet. And the way he held onto her arm—Jesu, she had been afraid he would never release her!
    “I couldn’t really see the other man’s face, but Lord de Lacy is certainly handsome,” she told Marguerite.
    Marguerite nodded. “Handsome, aye, but too pretty for my taste. I would have liked to have seen the other one, Richard, without his helmet. Odd that he didn’t take it off, even when his companion asked him to. You might think he was hiding something.”
    Astra shivered again. What did Sir Richard’s face look like? Was it as fierce and deadly as his battle epithet—the Black Leopard?
    * * *
    The rest of their journey was uneventful, and they arrived at Repton soon after sunset. The tranquil, quiet atmosphere of the priory filled Astra with relief. The bells announcing vespers, the quiet chant of prayers, the sense of order and peace—Astra felt as if she was coming home. They ate a plain, sparse meal and then an elderly monk led them to the guest quarters.
    “Mon Dieu, you would think we were back at Stafford.” Marguerite wrinkled her nose at the tiny austere cell they were offered. She poked one of the pallets on the floor with her foot and swore in disgust at its obvious hardness. “We are noble guests, not penitents, surely they could have offered us more comfortable accommodations.”
    “Prior Grosbert believes comfort is an enemy of the pure in spirit,” the old monk replied gravely. “He offers his guests a quiet refuge to examine their sinful lives and pray for