KIND EYES AND A
LION’S HEART
Chapter One
Part Three
“Where am I?” Melvin muttered as his eyelids
fluttered open. He was flat on his back
and staring at a canvas ceiling.
“You’re
in the tent for the wounded,” a familiar female voice replied.
He
turned his head and sure enough, there was the serving wench with the lovely
eyes sitting beside him, regarding him with a little smile playing about her
full lips. He also realized there were
several more wounded men in the tent with them, some lying on the cots, others
sitting, most with bandages around their limbs or heads.
Oh,
God. He remembered now. The man with the broken leg. The sound of the bone crunching. The screech.
He’d swooned. And now this calm,
competent young woman would know what a shameful coward he was.
He had to get out of there.
“Sorry
to be a nuisance,” he said, starting to sit up.
Only then did he realize he wasn’t wearing either his surcoat or his
chainmail. He looked at her
questioningly while patting his chest as if searching for them beneath his
padded gambeson.
“Your
squire helped us remove your surcoat and mail when you swooned,” she
replied.
“Alphonse?” Fool. Who
else would it be? “Oh, I see. Of course.”
He swung his legs over the side of the cot away from her. That way, his back was to her and she
wouldn’t see how ashamed he was. “I’ll
be going then.”
“If
you’re sure you’re up to it.”
“Certainly. Just a bit woozy. Nothing serious. Best free up the cot for someone who really
needs it,” Melvin replied. He hoisted
himself to his feet. “Sorry to be a
nuisance when you’ve got such a lot to do.”
“Oh,
you weren’t much trouble,” she said. “I
wish all the men who needed help would be so easy to assist, and so kind to
their squires.”
She
sounded so kind-hearted and sincere, he risked facing her. Remarkably, she was still smiling and there
was no mockery in her expression.
The
blood rushed to his face and for once, he couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“Good
God, Melvin, what the devil are you doing here?”
At
the sound of his cousin’s voice, Melvin closed his eyes and silently uttered a
curse at the unfairness of life.
This work is protected by copyright. See sidebar for notice.
Note: This novella is
PG13. With the exception of GWYNETH ANDTHE THIEF and THE WASTREL, my books are usually steamier.
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