Haunted Knights (Montbryce~The Next Generation Historical Romance) by Anna Markland

slightly. She looked up at him and smiled, letting him see she was enjoying this new adventure.
    It was a relief that he did not have to hear what she said. But here he was with a stunningly beautiful and desirable woman rocking back and forth on his lap, and he felt—absolutely nothing!
    That was not strictly true. He had a strong urge to cup his hand under one of Rosamunda’s breasts—just to see how it felt! He glanced down. The bulky nightshift stretched her bliaut tight. Her breasts protested the confinement. He might not have the wherewithal to make love with his shaft, but his tongue could bring pleasure to those pouting nipples.
    Adam had prized his virginity, but that did not mean he was ignorant of how to please a female. He had learned much from Denis who was never shy to boast of his prowess in that arena. Tongues and fingers could bring great pleasure.
    Would a young woman be satisfied with that kind of lovemaking? Perhaps, but she would want children—an impossibility for him now.
    He was drawn to this muette . In different circumstances, he would have pursued her.
    But there was no future in it. Better to remain aloof. A man would come along who could fulfill all her needs.
    Perhaps he was drawn to her because she was mute and he was deaf.
    She turned to look at him again. She pointed to him, then pulled the edges of her mouth down with her fingers and frowned, rocking her head from side to side. “Are you angry?”
    He shrugged. Angry? The word seemed inadequate. Bereft? Lonely? Cheated? Useless? “ Non , I’m not angry, simply concerned about you and your sister.”
    She touched his face. “Thank you.”
    His heart beat erratically. He gathered her closer to his chest. “Rest. You must be exhausted. Nox will get us to East Preston safely.”
    She relaxed in his arms as they reached the boundary of the Kingston Gorse estate. He paused to wait for Denis before beginning the journey along the coastal path. He thought she had fallen asleep, but then a raucous seagull caught her attention. She sat bolt upright and became agitated, pointing to the edge of the cliff, gripping his arm.
    Nox pricked up his ears. Adam patted the horse, soothing him. Her efforts to get off the horse were making the stallion nervous. What was wrong?
    Her eyes bright with excitement, she pointed to the water. “Stop! Stop! I want to see the sea.”
    ~~~
    Rosamunda held her breath as Adam edged Nox closer to the cliff’s edge. At last she was about to set eyes on the waters whose waves she had heard lapping beneath her prison all her life.
    It was not what she expected. Not blue, grey. Not warm, cold. Not clear, murky. She could not see Normandie. She could barely see the wavelets breaking along the mist shrouded shore.
    Yet, it elated her. She inhaled deeply and turned to look at Adam. “The Narrow Sea.”
    “It’s known as the Narrow Sea,” he said.
    Of course he would not know what she had intended. She was used to her sister and brothers understanding everything she wanted to express, but it would be different with others.
    She mouthed back his words.
    He stared at her lips, then smiled. He did not smile often and the unexpected gleam it brought to his usually guarded eyes took her breath away. She looked back at the water.
    “On a clear day, you can see my homeland.”
    She took a deep breath. Homeland. The land of her ancestors. She longed to tell him of her wish to visit Normandie, but such an explanation would involve hand gestures and sounds that might make him think her demented. Paulina would have understood, but Adam de Montbryce had no experience conversing with a muette .
    ~~~
    It occurred to Adam that though Rosamunda was from a Norman family, she had been born in England and because of her incarceration had probably never been to Normandie.
    She leaned against him, seemingly content to gaze at the sea. He wished he could see her face instead of the top of her head. “Normandie is a beautiful place, though