by Gwen Rowley
Elaine turned, the wind catching at the edges of her hair, her expression unreadable against the sunset. “I suppose there will be a feast before you all ride north. Shall I bring my blue gown or the silver?”
He stared at her in silence, hardly daring to believe he’d heard aright. When he did believe, he could only shake his head in wonder. How did she do it? Every time he thought he understood her, she found some new way to take his breath away.
Which was precisely how she had planned it. Now he could make out the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth; she was enjoying this, the minx, just as she always enjoyed surprising him.
A slow smile spread across his face. “The silver.”
“Do you think so?” she asked doubtfully. “True, the cloth is lovely, but I am always afraid I will … well, tumble out. I cannot imagine what that seamstress was thinking to cut it so low.”
Lancelot’s hands fastened on her girdle, and he drew her forward. “I bribed her.”
The faint, sweet sound of laughter reached Arthur in the gardens. He glanced up to see two figures on the battlements, silhouetted against the sunset blazing over Joyous Gard. As he stood, a smile touching his lips, they moved and merged until the space between them disappeared, and they were one.
Knights of the Round Table: Lancelot
© 2006 Gwen Rowley
ISBN: 0515141992
JOVE Books
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