WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,42

father’s bedchamber and one of them hanging on the wall in the great hall. When she walked the floors of Featherstone, her feet never touched the floor because of all the rugs and hides.

Her father always insisted on that.

She was thankful for the floor coverings this morning because it had dawned cold and misty. She made her way over to the hearth to see that a thoughtful servant had put a pot of water over the flame to heat and it was already steaming. Hissing with the cold, Isalyn removed her sleeping shift and washed with the hot water and a soft, white bar of soap that smelled like flowers. She was quick and vigorous in her grooming because today was going to be a busy day.

She had things to attend to.

It seemed to be a rather strange deviation from her usual routine because her thoughts this morning were not of returning to London. As long as she had been at Featherstone, she had awoken every morning thinking that this was going to be the last day at her father’s manse. She very much wanted to return home and she had made no secret of that, so nearly every day since her arrival, she had thought that this particular day would be her last.

It hadn’t worked out that way.

This morning, her thoughts lingered on Tor and not her return trip home. After the distasteful shock of her brother’s death yesterday, she and Tor had retreated to the great hall for the remainder of the day and into the night. It was clear that he was trying to be kind to her because of what had happened and, truth be told, she was going to let him. Tor de Wolfe was beginning to grow on her, just a little, and she was starting to appreciate his company.

Provincial knight or not.

In fact, she had come to see that he was no backwards knight. He watched her with a gaze so intense that surely it could have driven nails through stone. He missed nothing, remembered things she said from yesterday to the last detail, and generally seemed to be one of the smarter men she’d ever met.

Their conversation in the hall had been a continuation of their other conversation from the tavern in Haltwhistle. That conversation at the Crown and Sword had been a little stiff and perhaps even a little uncertain given the circumstances, but the continuing conversation in the great hall had been anything but stiff and uncertain. Tor was becoming more comfortable with her, so the conversation had been more animated.

And that’s when Isalyn figured out just how smart he really was.

Even so, she realized that she had done most of the talking while he had done most of the listening, but it seemed to her that he’d had a smile on his face the entire time. That enormous, handsome, rural knight had her attention and she had no idea why. She wasn’t even really sure if she liked him. Well… that was a lie.

She did like him.

That was why she traveled to Haltwhistle on this misty morning. She had departed Featherstone just as the sun rose and headed north to the village. Suspecting that she would never see Tor de Wolfe again after this day, there was something inside of her that wanted the man to remember her. Perhaps it was feminine vanity and nothing more. It wasn’t often that she met a man she could converse so easily with and who was so attentive when listening to her speak of her silly hobbies or independent opinions, but Tor had done both of those things. He had listened to her spout off and he had never said a word to the contrary.

That took a special man.

Therefore, she was determined to get something for that special man that she had seen in town the day before. There was a metalworker near the eastern end of town who specialized in unique things. He was more than a blacksmith because not only did he fashion beautiful weapons, but he also fashioned other objects made out of steel, including women’s hair pins, combs, and she even saw a pair of beautiful metal bracelets on display. But the one thing that had had her attention was a lovely steel dagger with a dog’s head on it. Set within the dog’s head, as it was a profile of a dog, was one big sapphire blue eye. She thought the weapon had been rather strong and