Page 31 of To Desire

“You are deep in thought?”

They’d crested a ridge that, had Darien not spoken to her, Liana may not have noticed stretched out to a most lovely view before them. Sunlight touched the open countryside, a mountain range on their right and open fields to the left and before them. She could easily see their path ahead, an old Roman road that continued unfettered with the forest having opened up earlier in the day.

“’Tis beautiful.”

“Very much so.” He was looking at her.

“The countryside,” she clarified.

“Is also beautiful.”

Liana’s mount danced beneath her, as if sensing the sudden racing of her pulse at his words. If she had any doubt after their almost kiss, there was none now. “Was that a compliment, my fair knight?” she teased, unsure how to respond.

“Simply the most obvious of statements. Surely, you’ve been told as much many times.”

Never from someone like you.

“Many thanks for the compliment,” she said instead.

“Many thanks for accompanying me. I know ’tis not been an easy journey thus far, but if we continue at this pace, we should reach Stanford Manor easily by nightfall. Shall we?”

“Aye,” she said, following him down the incline. True to his word, they kept a difficult pace, but manageable nonetheless. Though they met more travelers the closer they rode toward the village, none paid them any mind.

As they approached Brackenford, the fading light of dusk cast long shadows over the approaching village. Smoke rose from thatched rooftops, blending into the twilight. Lanterns flickered outside cottages as dirt kicked up on the road as they passed. Villagers hurried to finish their tasks—herding sheep into pens and closing market stalls. A distant bell chimed, signaling the end of the day as the manor house came into view.

“Lord Alistair Devereux is loyal to our cause, and will ask a few questions,” Darien said as they climbed the hill that made the towering walls surrounding the manor house appear even larger. “However, he is shrewd and pragmatic, though rarely diplomatic.”

Liana was not certain she understood. As Darien slowed before the gatehouse, she was about to ask for him to clarify his words. Before she could, he made a face that could only be described as apologetic.

“In other words, while we will find comfort and safety here . . . Lord Devereux will not believe our story, that you are my scribe. I’ve thought on the matter and see only two solutions. We tell him the truth, that you are a seer. Or . . .” He grinned. “My paramour. Your choice.”