WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,19

swinging himself onto Enbarr’s back. “Let us get on with this.”

He gathered his reins and prepared to move forward but a shout stopped him. Pausing, he turned to see the blonde in the magnificent red dress crossing the road towards him. She had something in her hand, lifting it up to him.

“Here,” she said, though it was forced. “I am sure you thought you were helping me, so please take this for your trouble.”

He could see that she had coins in her hand and, for some reason, that enraged him. Well, as much as anything could. He’d never been truly furious in his life, but the fact that she thought she was doing him a favor by rewarding him tweaked his already damaged pride. He leaned over, fixing her in the eyes.

“Keep your money,” he said. “And keep off horses you cannot control. What I did was not to save you. It was to save all of those people you were preparing to trample with that wild animal. The next time a man risks his life to save yours and so many others, it would be the well-mannered thing to thank him rather than lie to him and tell you that you did not need any help at all.”

She was red in the face by the time he finished with her. Lowering her hand with the coins in it, it was obvious that her prideful manner had taken a hit.

“I did not ask you to risk yourself,” she said.

He lifted his eyebrows. “That is true, you did not,” he said. “Nor did the townsfolk who were under threat from your unruly mount. But I am a trained knight and when there is trouble, I cannot stand by and not do anything about it. Had I known how rude and ungrateful you were, however, I might have changed my mind.”

With that, he directed Enbarr out onto the road and began to move away. Nat was already several paces ahead of him, uninterested in the lecture Tor was giving the lovely young woman. Tor could see Nat up ahead and he directed Enbarr through the villagers and farmers who had resumed their business now that the wild horse had been corralled. He wasn’t moving very quickly, but he did have the road south in his sights. He was looking up ahead when he heard a voice beside him.

“I am sorry that I was rude.” The woman in the red dress was suddenly walking beside him. She’d caught up to him and he never even noticed. “It’s just that my father will probably never let me ride a horse again if he has any sense that I nearly got myself killed. There were people standing around who might know him, as he is well-known in town, and word might get back to him. I had to pretend I had some semblance of control.”

He looked down at her, willing to accept her apology with shocking speed. Usually, he was a man to hold a grudge and he’d been known to hold them for quite a long time. But looking down at that sweet face, he was willing to forget the whole thing.

“Your father is popular in town, is he?”

“Well-known, anyway.”

“It must make it difficult for you to be anything less than perfect.”

“Exactly.”

“My name is Tor.”

She looked up at him, the dark blue eyes studying him. “I am Isalyn.”

He dipped his head. “My lady,” he said. “’Tis an honor to meet you.”

“And you. For what you did… you probably did save my life. Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

She forced a smile, just a little one, but it was the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. “If you will not take my coins, will you at least let me purchase a meal for the man who saved me from breaking my neck? It would be very bad manners of me not to thank you in some way.”

Tor had his day mapped out. Go to Featherstone, return de Featherstone’s body to his father, and depart for home. If he moved swiftly enough, he might even be able to sleep in his own bed tonight. Blackpool was about twenty miles to the north, so if he moved swiftly, he could make it home that night.

All of those things were going through his mind.

But he realized as he looked at her that he might not make it home tonight at all.

Tor wasn’t one to be influenced by a pretty face. For close to seventeen years, ever since the death of his