Page 41 of To Desire

Liana blinked. Surely this woman was not real. Knowing there were few women at Castle Blackwood, and by her description, she guessed at the woman’s identity.

“Lady Elara?”

“Indeed.”

Liana looked from the spectacularly beautiful woman to Darien. He’d told her the men had all been half in love with their Strategies instructor, and she could understand why.

Had Darien too?

“Come. We have much to discuss.”

Walking into the hall with Darien on one side of her and Lady Elara on the other, in Evelina’s gown . . . it was as if she were a different person. One that was not forced to hide in the shadows but who could be seen, and maybe even accepted.

Their table was filled already. Darien’s friends, their wives. At first, she remained quiet, listening to their tales of training and lessons. Of Matilda and Stephen.

“FitzCount has captured William Martel,” Lady Elara said. “If our scouts can be believed.”

“The king’s chef steward?” her husband, Alden, asked.

“Aye. And put him in the prison FitzCount built within the keep for that purpose.”

At Liana’s expression, Darien leaned in to whisper, “Wallingford Castle. Its lord, Brien FitzCount, declared for Matilda and the king has been building countercastles nearby to attack from. It has become the center of much activity of late.”

She appreciated the information. And could have been content to listen all day, the men’s training having been cut short by the rain that continued to fall, if the state of newcomers to the mid-day meal were of evidence.

She was so busy thinking of Darien’s reaction upon seeing her, and of his kiss afterward, she realized belatedly that all at her table waited for her to respond. But she hadn’t heard the question.

“Apologies,” she said. “My mind was elsewhere.”

“I asked if you would like to visit with me tomorrow, at my herb shop,” Lady Amalia said.

“Of course. I would very much enjoy that.”

As the others continued their discussion, Darien leaned toward her once again.

“Do you know what I would very much enjoy?”

She took a sip of wine to hide her expression.

“Nay,” she whispered back. “I do not.”

“I will tell you this eve.”