Page 62 of My Warrior
Her ears burned, but she stilled. The gauntlet sliding back down her thigh made her shiver.
“Guy!” Holden called.
“My lord,” Guy boomed smugly. “I regret I’m the one to bring news of your wife’s treachery to your notice.”
Holden lifted a brow. Guy didn’t sound sorry in the least. In fact, Guy hadn’t trusted Cambria Gavin since the day she’d allied herself with those Scots rebels to take him hostage.
“She admitted she missed her mark when she hit Owen,” Guy added. “I believe, my lord, she was aiming for you.”
“She did miss her mark.” He grimly nodded his head. “But her arrow wasn’t meant for me. She was aiming for Owen. She intended, I’m sure, to pierce the bastard’s black heart.”
Guy sputtered like a sail with the wind knocked out of it. “Owen?”
“Aye. He’s your traitor.”
“The one who had you waylaid in the forest?”
“No doubt. Since that failed, he was apparently trying to kill me on the battlefield.”
The others who heard began to mutter amongst themselves.
“Then she shot to save your life, not to take it?” Guy scowled, as if he’d been told he’d just swallowed a bug.
“Aye,” Holden answered, loud enough for all to hear.
For the sake of the Gavin name and the name of de Ware, he had to assure the accuracy of the account. Gossips were probably wagging their tongues in the king’s ear even now. He pulled Cambria up to sit before him, while his steed danced in protest at the movement.
“My brave wife acted to save my life,” he announced. “The Gavins have truly shown their loyalty this day.” A cheer arose from the soldiers. In the uproar, he leaned down to Guy and gave a quick command. “Take two others and see if you can find Owen. He can’t have gone far with that wound. And someone alert the king.”
Guy nodded and, drawing his blade, left to comply.
Holden wheeled his mount to duck into a more private section of the wood. He said nothing as they traveled the winding path, too wounded by Cambria’s disobedience—nay, not only her disobedience, but her mistrust. Didn’t she think he could defend himself against one attacker? He flinched as his new injury gave him a stinging reminder of what a single attacker had just cost him. Damn the wench, she unmanned him with her lack of faith.
He reined in abruptly, and Cambria nearly fell against Ariel’s neck. This spot seemed secluded enough, he thought sardonically, far from the eyes and ears of those who might object to him thrashing his wife.
Then he sighed. He wearily slid the mail coif back from his head. He was fooling himself. He’d never lay a hand on Cambria. True, the short ride hadn’t cooled his temper much, but he was capable of confining his violence to his own imagination.
“I commanded you to stay in camp,” he said, turning her face toward him.
“You’d be dead now if I had,” she argued, jerking away.
He swore. “Don’t you think I can defend myself? I knew Owen was there. I’ve fought him a hundred times. I know his weaknesses. I saw the blow before it was struck. If you’d left it to me, I would have easily turned his blade aside. And he wouldn’t have escaped.”
“What? You allowed him to escape?”
His eyes narrowed as quickly as clouds gathering for a storm. “In my concern foryou, milady,” he bit out, insulted, “I understandably let my attention slip.”
After a moment of fuming silence, she grumbled, “The arrowwasmeant for his heart.”
“You missed by more than a foot,” he replied, raising a brow. “I suppose I should be thankful to be alive.”
“It was a flawed shaft. It was the fletcher’s fault.”
He refused to be distracted by her flimsy excuses. “Your fletcher isn’t the only one to blame. You disobeyed me and—“
“I saved your life!” she cried. “You said it yourself.”
“Youendangeredmy life!” he roared back. Ariel bristled at the sudden noise.
