Page 7 of A Lover for Lady Jane (The Welsh Rebels #5)

Just then, Griffin arrived with Taran in tow. Leading him by the reins, he brought him back to the men, following behind Tywysog. As soon as they were reunited with the group, they set off again,

“Hold me tighter!” Geraint instructed after a while, drawing her hand across his waist to compensate for the fact that she could not understand his words. “Damn it all, do you want to fall and break your neck this time?”

Knowing he wouldn’t see her smirk or understand what she was saying, Jane delighted in voicing out her feelings out loud, taking care of sounding confused by what he’d said. “Oh no, believe me, I would much rather break your neck. I hate you and your ill-mannered, stupid, crass?—”

“Shut up and hold me, damn you! You’re going to fall if you carry on in that way, and I would like to trot, to try and make up for lost time.”

She carried on as if he had not said anything, making sure to hold him as loosely as she dared. “Your brutish men who agreed on this mission, all the while knowing I was innocent of any wrongdoing. Your despicable men who are about to hand my father to a man who?—”

“Enough of this blabbering!” Geraint exploded, bringing his horse to a halt. “Griffin, you take the damn woman with you on Eryr. At least you’ll be able to tell her I don’t want to hear another word from her lips until we reach Castell Esgyrn.”

Everything within Jane relaxed and she almost jumped down from the saddle there and then, forgetting she wasn’t supposed to have understood the command. At the last moment she stopped herself and waited for Griffin to dismount and translate the instruction.

“My lady,” he said, sounding as relieved as she felt. “You are to ride with me on Eryr now.”

She accepted the hand he was offering and slid down.

A moment later, she was sitting in front of him, after he’d explained it would be more comfortable for the animal to carry the extra weight on his shoulders rather than his rump.

The care he had for the stallion’s well-being warmed her.

She gave Eryr a caress, sorry to be adding to his burden.

Mercifully, the animal was built for strength, and Griffin was nothing like Geraint.

Though he was tall, his body was lean and taut as a lance, he would not weigh as much as the rebel, who had started to run to fat.

“Eryr. It’s an odd choice of name for a horse, don’t you think?” she said once they had resumed their walking.

“Is it?” Griffin sounded surprised. Jane mentally kicked herself. Of course she wasn’t supposed to know that the word meant eagle. “Why do you think so?”

How was she going to get out of this?

“Because it’s very hard to say,” she improvised. “You would do better with a shorter, easier name, I think.”

“It’s not hard to say for us Welsh, and he’s not a dog we need to bring to heel.” He still sounded puzzled. “Anyway, Eryr means Eagle. I suppose it could be considered odd to choose a bird name for a horse.”

“Not odd at all to me. My uncle’s favorite horse is called Raven.”

“He’s black, I imagine?”

“You would think so. But he’s white as snow.

” She could not help a giggle at Griffin’s splutter.

How was it that being with this man could make her forget the situation she was in?

This morning, escape had been the only thing on her mind and here she was, enjoying her conversation with him, basking in the warmth of his embrace.

“He called him thus because his wife Branwen’s name, as you will know, means ‘white raven’. ”

“Is she Welsh then?”

“Yes, like my mother Esyllt. They’ve been friends since they were children.”

“And you spend half your time in Wales?”

“I do. I only stayed at Sheridan Manor when my family went back to Castell Esgyrn to wait for the birth of my cousin.”

“So…” He sounded cautious, as if what he was about to say made no sense. “How is it you don’t speak the language, or even understand anything?”

Damn and blast. Jane could have kicked herself. Why had she relaxed her guard? But perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised she had. Cradled in Griffin’s arms, she could not think straight.

“We always speak in English at home. It was easier that way. When my father married Esyllt, his second wife and the woman I consider as my mother, she and her daughter Sian already spoke English and once the habit was taken, it was hard to go back. We spend a lot of time in England anyway. How is it that you speak English so well, with no accent?” she asked to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

Besides, she was curious. The giant had called him the English pup.

Was he English then? His mastery of the language was certainly good enough.

“My mother was English. That is why I am called Griffin. Had I been fully Welsh, I would likely have been called Gruffydd.”

Yes, of course… How had she not thought of that? Still, she shivered at the thought of him sharing a name with her father’s enemy. Griffin was much better.

“Your mother was English, then?” she prompted. She wanted to know more about his family.

“Yes. She was the maid of the local lord, who had come to settle on the other side of the border after the invasion in ’77.

Shortly after her arrival, she met my father, a farmer living next to the castle.

They married in secret, knowing their union would not be seen favorably but she was sent away in disgrace when her belly started to swell with a babe—my sister.

” He let out a snort. “The little English maid was despised and dismissed by the mighty lord for marrying a Welshman, when it is common knowledge that he fathered at least a dozen bastards on the local women. The hypocrisy and cruelty of people will never cease to amaze me.”

“Yes.”

Jane’s heart constricted. She could well imagine what his family had endured from ill-intentioned people.

It was one thing for noble Englishmen to marry Welsh women on the King’s orders to enforce his domination over the country, quite another for ordinary folk to follow their heart and fall for someone who was seen as the enemy.

Such unions were still viewed with suspicion now, so she could well imagine how it would have been seen almost thirty years ago.

“I think it is a beautiful love story,” she murmured, not daring to turn her head to speak in Griffin’s ear. “Two people who were brave enough to ignore what people said and decided to be together despite the odds stacked against them. It is not an easy path to take.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He sounded pensive, so much so that she didn’t dare ask anything for the rest of the day, simply enjoying the feel of his arms around her.

When they stopped for the night later that afternoon, Griffin was still pondering on Jane’s remark about Eryr’s name.

It was not the first time he’d wondered if she understood his language.

She often behaved in a way that betrayed a knowledge she was not supposed to have, starting to respond before he’d translated Geraint’s instructions to her, reacting to something one of the men, usually Cynan, said within her hearing.

He was certain she knew more Welsh than she was letting on.

Well, no point asking her again. He’d already tried to find out the truth this afternoon and she’d denied being able to speak or even understand his language.

After so long pretending, she wouldn’t betray herself so easily.

Besides, she might not want to risk him finding out such important information about her.

As far as she was concerned, even if he was doing what he could to help her, he was one of Geraint’s men, which meant she could not trust him fully.

No, if he wanted to know the extent of her knowledge, he’d have to trick her into revealing she understood what he was saying.

And he thought he knew just how.

Once he’d removed the saddle, Griffin leaned in to speak into his horse’s ear, making sure she was still behind him.

“You’re a lucky boy, are you not?” he asked Eryr softly, “spending the best part of the afternoon with the Lady Jane’s legs wrapped around you.

I would give the fortune I don’t possess to be in that position.

But believe me, if I ever got between her perfect thighs, I would be the one doing the riding. ”

When he turned to the lady, he had the satisfaction of seeing that her face had gone a crimson color. As he’d suspected. She might not be able to speak Welsh fluently, but she understood it well enough.

“Ah, my lady,” he said in English, feigning surprise at seeing her so close. “I was just telling Eryr here that he was lucky…” He paused, eager to see if she would panic at the idea of him repeating the lewd words to her.

She didn’t panic, exactly, but her eyes widened ever so slightly, betraying alarm. “I’m sure you don’t need to tell me what you tell your horse in confidence.”

Her effort at breeziness was commendable, but he was not fooled.

“It’s no confidence,” he said, keeping his gaze fastened on her. He could have looked at her beauty all day. “Just some silly nonsense about having earned himself an extra portion of food tonight.”

“Of course. All that riding…”

“As you say. Though, if you must know, as a man, I’ve always found riding an enjoyable activity.”

His mouth said riding, but his eyes suggested something different—and she didn’t miss his meaning. The color on her cheeks reached alarming proportions. If she could have vanished into a hole in this moment, he guessed she would have gone in head-first. What had possessed him to provoke her so?

“Well, good night,” she said. “I will admit, the day has been rather trying and I’m ready for sleep.”

“Of course.”

He, for one, knew he would find it hard to get rest tonight, plagued by the memory of her soft body cradled against him. How would he stand the same torture all day tomorrow? Then he decided that anything would be better than being without her.

Griffin hated himself for the thought, but he was glad Jane had not managed to escape, as he was not yet ready to be parted from her.