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terrified woman who was reliving that terror. He watched her swing once or twice more at de Alisal’s head before he finally stepped in and disarmed her. Even then, she still looked around for another weapon but he wasn’t going to let her continue the fight, so he tossed her up over one shoulder and carried her out of the stall through the back entrance.

The entire avenue in front of the merchant’s stall had deteriorated into a fight that the local sheriff and his men were only now starting to break up. No one seemed to know how it had started, and no one would, because Andreas was going to get as far away as possible. He didn’t want to be caught up in anything and he didn’t want Gavriella caught up in it, either.

Because of the brawl, the activity in the entire area seemed to have come to an uncertain halt. Andreas was still carrying Gavriella as he ran past stalls that were abruptly closing with the threat of an armed incident. He ran past the stages where they had seen Demeter and Cain and Abel. He ran past all of that on his way to the London Bridge.

Predictably, news of the fight had spread to the bridge and people were running into the area to get a look at what had happened. Andreas didn’t even put Gavriella onto her feet. He simply raced to the bridge and crossed it against the traffic that was going in the opposite direction.

At that point, Gavriella didn’t seem to be fighting him too much. She’d stopped struggling and was mostly bracing herself against his broad back as he carried her over his shoulder. Andreas ran all the way across the bridge and to the other side before he even attempted to set her down.

Once he set her to her feet, he looked at her with great concern.

“Are you well?” he asked. “Were you injured?”

She’d been crying. He could see where she’d wiped her face with fingers dirty from clutching an iron rod.

“I am not hurt,” she said, her lower lip trembling. “I… I am sorry I was so much trouble. I saw that man… he was trying to kill you and I… I tried to help. I am sorry if I have made you angry.”

He sighed heavily, relieved more than he cared to admit that she was unharmed. Reaching out, he grasped her by the upper arms.

“I am not angry, sweetling,” he said, his relief causing him to call her by a term of endearment. “Are you sure you are uninjured?”

“I am sure.”

He was looking her in the face, seeing great upset in her features, and he went back to what she had said when she’d been beating de Alisal within an inch of his life.

I shall make it so you can never hurt anyone again and ruin lives.

Given the situation, that had seemed strangely out of place. But in her guarded world, perhaps not. Clearly, it meant something to her, but what, exactly, was anyone’s guess.

Part of that guarded woman had just revealed herself.

Gently, he released her and took her hand in his. “Did you get more sweets thrown at you?”

He was trying to change the subject, trying to calm the situation. She nodded, head hung as she continued to wipe at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I did not save any for you.”

He smiled faintly. “Not to worry,” he said. “Did you enjoy yourself today?”

She nodded. “I did, very much.”

“I am sorry about the skirmish. It was… unexpected.”

Her head came up, then, and she looked at him. “What happened?” she asked. “How did you end up fighting that man?”

It was a complicated story, one he didn’t feel like telling her. Therefore, he simply shrugged. “Things like that start so quickly and no one ever remembers why,” he said. “Come, let us go back into the city and find something to eat.”

He began leading her away and she looked at him in mild surprise. “Again?”

He winked at her. “I have a very large appetite.”

With a shrug, she gathered her skirts in one hand and let him lead her away with the other.

The entertainment, for the day, was concluded.

But not the excitement.

There was more to come.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Gavriella had to admit that she’d never seen anyone eat so much in her life.

They were back at The Fox and The Wolf, the inn they’d visited not twelve hours earlier. But this time, it was to eat. Again. Andreas had his beloved beef roast, cooked in red wine and garlic and cloves, and he’d had a goodly portion of it. Along with the roast, he had stuffed eggs, spinach and cabbage, carrots cooked in sweet vinegar, and all the bread he could eat.

He was in heaven.

For as much as the man ate, Gavriella couldn’t see an ounce of fat on him. He was quite large, and very strong, but it was all muscle. She’d found that out when he had carried her out of danger, running what had to be at least a mile or more with her slung over his shoulder. It took a strong man to do that.

More and more, she was coming to see just what an exceptional man he was.

In fact, the entire adventure to Southwark has been an eye-opening experience for her. In the deliciously languid moments when all they’d done was talk, with no pressure, no expectations, she had come to see a man of exceptional intelligence and exceptional humor. He was exacting, a bit of a perfectionist, and very smart. He was also a little rigid, quite arrogant, and supremely confident. She had seen that side of him and it amused her greatly, but the side of him she liked best was the compassionate and caring side.

That was the side that was drawing her to him more and more.

She kept going back to those moments when she realized that she wasn’t worthy of him, knowing that she couldn’t let this acquaintance go

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