Claiming the Forbidden Bride. Gayle Wilson

      ‘At no risk to myself.’

      His gaze left hers to survey the compound. Despite the fact that the normal morning activities were ongoing, more than one pair of eyes had been focused on the two of them.

      The Englishman smiled and nodded a greeting to those who seemed interested in their conversation. As he did, most had the grace to turn their attentions back to the daily tasks at hand.

      Andrash, who had helped carry the Englishman back to camp, lifted a hand in response. The ex-soldier responded in kind before he looked down at her.

      ‘At no cost to yourself?’

      She laughed. ‘If you’re imagining that my position here is in jeopardy because I choose to take you in, you’re mistaken.’

      ‘At least one person objected rather strongly to your kindness. And, although I have no way to verify his claim, he said he had the authority to enforce his displeasure.’

      He meant Stephano, Nadya realized. Given their proximity to the caravan when her half-brother had issued his ultimatum, she shouldn’t be surprised to find that her patient overheard them.

      ‘Is that why you’re up? Because you felt…threatened?’

      ‘I’m up because I felt well enough to try.’

      ‘And well enough to succeed, it seems. Congratulations.’

      ‘You may hold your applause until I can do more than sit in the sun.’

      ‘Granted, your bay will prove more of a challenge.’

      ‘My brother’s bay,’ he corrected softly.

      There was some issue there. A rivalry? Or simple envy of the firstborn’s rights under English law?

      ‘Shall I ask Andrash to bring the gelding?’ She turned her head, seeking the smith, who had apparently found occupation in another area of the camp while they’d been talking.

      ‘Maybe I’ll check on him. Later, I think.’ He held the half-empty bowl down to her.

      Although she noted the slight tremor in his fingers, she didn’t comment on it. ‘At your convenience, my lord. I assure you your brother’s horse will be here and well tended when you are ready for him.’

      ‘If you insist on a title, then major will do.’

      ‘Aren’t majors’ commissions purchased?’ she teased.

      ‘It happens mine was awarded. My previous ranks were purchased, however. By benefactors,’ he added when she cocked her head as if to challenge his denial of wealth. ‘My brother and my godfather, actually.’

      ‘That reminds me.’ She fished the paper and pencil stub out of her pocket, holding them up to him. As he took them, his fingers brushed hers. ‘So, Major…?’

      ‘Morgan. Rhys Morgan.’

      ‘How do you do, Major Morgan.’ She lowered her head as she had seen the ladies in the village do.

      ‘Better than yesterday, thank you.’

      ‘And not so well as tomorrow. That I can promise you. Don’t be impatient.’

      He nodded, his eyes on hers.

      After a moment, she deliberately broke the contact between them by looking down at the bowl he’d handed her. ‘We can do better than this for dinner.’

      He shook his head. ‘You’d be surprised how grateful one can be for porridge.’

      For some reason she believed him. Of course, as a soldier, he had undoubtedly known deprivation.

      Now, however, he was back in England, where his kind wanted for nothing. Except, perhaps, the favours of a well-placed benefactor. Or of a Gypsy girl.

      ‘You didn’t tell me your name.’

      Surprised, her eyes came up, as she debated whether or not to tell him the truth. And then, deciding that it couldn’t possibly matter if he knew, she did. ‘My name is Nadya Argentari.’

      ‘Your servant, Miss Argentari.’ He repeated her earlier gesture, making rather more of it than she had.

      ‘Somehow I doubt that, my lord.’

      ‘Major,’ he corrected again.

      ‘Major Morgan. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients who seem to still be in need of my skills this morning.’

      ‘But none, I assure you, who will be more grateful for them.’

      ‘No matter your denial, I see that you are indeed a milord.’

      ‘A simple soldier, ma’am, I assure you. And quite willingly at your service.’

      He inclined his head slightly. Despite all her strictures to the contrary, Nadya found her senses once more stirred.

       Like a schoolgirl taken with the first handsome gentleman she encounters.

      Or at least the first she had encountered in a very long time, Nadya admitted. And, she reiterated, this time strictly to herself, the sooner he is gone, the better it will be for everyone concerned.

       Especially for me.