The Redeeming by Tamara Leigh Page A

young men sometimes sought the wood the same as Sir Matthew. Providing it was not done under cover of night, they usually went unchallenged.
    Reaching the cover of the trees where Sir Matthew had passed a short while ago, she paused to catch her breath. Though it was darker beneath the canopy of leaves, it was not yet so dark she could not see a good distance ahead. Still, she pulled her meat dagger as she ventured forward.
    Minutes later, she heard the softly rippling stream. She searched for movement among the trees that she might alert Sir Matthew to her presence should he prove unfit for her company, but all was still.
    At the bank of the stream, she looked in both directions. Had he gone farther downstream? Upstream toward the falls? Unfortunately, the dimming sky told that she would be foolish to continue on.
    Resigned to returning to the castle, she bent, scooped up a handful of water, and wet her mouth.
    “It seems this time ‘tis you who seeks me ,” a voice sounded from the left.
    Nearly choking on the water, she thrust to her feet and swung around to face Sir Matthew where he stood alongside a tree twenty feet downstream. Fair hair clinging to his head, damp tunic evidencing it had been pulled over a wet body, sword in hand telling the fate of any who might attempt to steal upon him with ill intent, he stared at her.
    “I neither saw nor heard you.”
    He smiled tightly. “Then Sir Everard is to be commended for teaching me well.” He reached down, retrieved his belt, and strapped it on. After returning his sword to its scabbard, he strode forward.
    Senses straining toward this man she had sought out, Gaenor returned her dagger to her girdle.
    Sir Matthew halted before her. “This is most unexpected, Lady Gaenor.”
    His tone was different, unlike their previous meetings when he had seemed pleased to see her. Was he angry? These past days, had he awaited her in the chapel she had avoided?
    “I thought it best that we not meet again,” she said. “Thus, I stayed away from the chapel.”
    “As did I.”
    Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “Then we were of the same mind.”
    “I still am, Lady Gaenor. You should not have followed me.”
    “This I know, but when I saw you go to the wood, I…” She drew a deep breath. “I wanted to see you one last time ere I depart Wulfen.”
    “Why?”
    The question was so curt, she snapped, “Truly, I do not know.”
    “Do you not?”
    Though she longed to salvage any pride that might be left to her, she did not turn away. What harm to tell him the truth? It was not as if she would see him again once she left Wulfen, and it would unburden her. Too, if he had similar feelings and declared them, it would be something for her to hold onto in the dark days ahead. “Aye, I know the reason I sought you out.”
    He arched an eyebrow.
    “I feel something for you that I should not, Sir Matthew, and with a foolish heart, I wished to feel it one last time.”
    Though she expected her honesty to soften him, his jaw remained hard. “You speak of the same foolish heart given to a man who does not return your feelings?”
    Were his words of iron, rather than air, she would have bled. What had she done to incur such wrath from a man who had first offended by listening in on her prayers? Who had first sought her out? And had continued to seek her out? She had but refused his kiss as a lady should, especially one betrothed to another.
    She raised her chin. “The same foolish heart that seeks a kiss it refused three days past.”
    Christian stared at her. Though he had hoped it was her reason for coming to the wood, he had not expected her to admit it. “What of this other man who claims your heart?”
    A smile, bordering on winter, touched her lips. “One does not lay claim to what one does not desire, Sir Matthew.”
    “You play with words, Lady Gaenor.”
    “So I do.”
    Holding his arms at his sides, Christian said, “Thus?”
    She sighed. “I have determined to take