Besotted (The Fairest Maidens #3) - Jody Hedlund Page 0,31

times. Even when in my private chambers, I’d always had servants along with knights and their squires lingering nearby. I’d long since learned to carry on as if they weren’t present. But of course, Rory wouldn’t be used to being a public figure and having minimal privacy.

She leaned in slightly. “Perhaps I can find ways to amuse you and take your mind off the pain.”

“Your presence alone is all I could need or wish for. But if the amusements afford me more time with you, then I shall not object.”

Chester snorted even louder this time.

“Chester, please.” Rory cast pleading eyes upon him. The technique worked better than anger, for his eyes softened with what I could only describe as affection. Did Chester have feelings for Rory? Though she’d referred to him as being like a brother, perhaps Chester saw her as much more than a sister. Maybe that’s one reason why he disliked me so much.

“Do you like chess?” she asked.

“I do play, although I’ve been told I lack strategy.”

“Then I shall teach you.”

My thoughts returned to when I teased her about teaching me to braid flowers in exchange for dance lessons. “I suppose you do owe me—”

She cut me off with a rapid shake of her head and the darting of her gaze toward Chester. She didn’t want him to know about our dancing?

As if hearing my unasked question, she shook her head again in warning. “What about reading? I can read to you, if you would be agreeable.”

“I would be very agreeable.” Was she able to read? I didn’t know of many women who had any learning, much less a peasant woman. Perhaps Aunt Idony was educated and had passed her knowledge along to Rory.

Whatever the case, it was becoming clearer with each day that this was no ordinary peasant’s home, at least not like any others we’d visited during our time in Inglewood Forest. The furnishings, the food, and even the atmosphere had the feel of nobility. Perhaps once they’d been wealthy but had fallen onto hard times.

I shifted so I could see her better and held back a wince at the pain that shot through my leg. “Perhaps I shall teach you Tafl.”

“And what exactly is Tafl?” She studied my face, her attention drifting to my brow, nose, cheeks, chin, and then my mouth. The innocence in her expression told me she didn’t realize she was observing me so openly.

I couldn’t hold back a pleased smile. “Tafl is a game like chess, with a king and army and war strategy.”

“Very well. But I must warn you, I am a competitive game player and rarely lose.”

“And I must warn you, I’m not in the least competitive but somehow manage to almost always win.”

The hint of a smile graced her lips. “Then we shall be evenly matched.”

Evenly matched? We were far from evenly matched, but I couldn’t tell her that. Not now. Not after the way we’d parted that day in the woods. If she hadn’t thought we had any hope before, she’d think so even less if she knew I was a prince. She’d likely run from the chamber and never return.

“Time is up.” Chester stepped into the room.

She lifted her chin almost defiantly. “A few more minutes.”

“I’m passing along Aunt Idony’s instruction.” Chester’s gaze connected with mine for an instant, but it was long enough to let me know he’d listened carefully to our every word and still didn’t like me. Not one bit.

Rory didn’t move from her spot but reached for my hand where it rested near the edge of the bed. “Please do not feel you are imposing. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need.” Her squeeze was amiable, but it sent a shimmer of warmth up my arm regardless.

Chester stiffened as his gaze locked on our connected hands.

I brought Rory’s hand to my lips and kissed her fingers. At the gentle contact, she drew in a breath but made no move to pull away. Chester, however, growled his protest, and his boots clunked on the floor as he approached.

Jorg intercepted him, pushing himself to his full height, and the two men stood face-to-face, their chests almost touching.

With a shy smile, Rory rose and extracted her hand from mine. Then without a glance at Chester, she strode from the chamber.

Jorg didn’t budge. And Chester finally took a step back. “You’re not woodcutters, that much is obvious. The question is, who are you and what are you doing here in Inglewood