Linda Skye Read Online Free PDF

taxes to my father.”
    Before Giselle could respond, Eustache stood and strode away without looking back. Giselle felt her heart soar—this was the opportunity she needed to secure her family’s fortunes!
    “I will leave you to Madame Lessard,” he said as he left his chambers.
    The next few hours were a blur of activity. Before she knew it, Giselle had been whisked throughout the manor house, her mind spinning with new instructions and information: make the bed, sweep the floors, clean out the hearth, attend the lord at meals, bring hot water up to the bedchambers, warm the lord’s bed at night.
    By the time her new world had stopped spinning, it was nearly time for the evening meal. Knowing she had a few free moments, Giselle slipped away to the stables to visit the horses. She made her way to Bayard, who was tethered to a post, awaiting his daily brushing. The giant war horse snorted in greeting, nudging her shoulder with his massive nose. Giselle laughed aloud, stroking his long muzzle with her palm.
    A shadow fell over her, and Giselle looked over her shoulder in time to see Eustache stride into the stables. She turned, a sweetly mischievous lilt to her lips. He slowly arched a brow in response.
    “Mon seigneur,” she greeted him, dipping her head deferentially.
    “Are you not afraid of smelling of the animals?” he asked, stepping closer.
    “No,” she answered. “Are you?”
    A crease appeared between his brows, and he took another step toward her.
    “Most women do not visit the stables,” he commented dryly.
    “And most lords do not converse with their maids,” she quipped.
    Eustache reached over her head to grab Bayard’s cheek strap. He bent over her, his voice dropping to a murmur.
    “And do you think that I am like most lords?”
    His words were a mere whisper, ghosting over her cheeks in a sensual swirl. Giselle’s breath caught in her throat, but she refused to edge away.
    “I do not yet know enough about you to be sure,” she answered breathlessly.
    He placed his palm at the base of her spine, sliding it slowly down to rest on the curve of her bottom. His touch sent deliciously electric thrills spiking through her body, and bit her lip to contain a gasp.
    “And would you like to learn more?”
    Giselle was sure he could hear the wild beating of her heart, but his expression did not change as he gazed down at her with gleaming eyes.
    “It depends, mon seigneur ,” she said slowly, “on what you would like to teach me.”
    He leaned back then, and she found herself missing his warmth.
    “We shall see,” he said solemnly. “But I do believe that you have another task awaiting you in the dining hall.”
    With that, he turned to walk away as Giselle hurried away to the kitchens to get ready to attend him at the evening meal. It must have been a tediously long affair, but Giselle hardly noticed the time passing as she was keenly aware of Eustache’s eyes upon her throughout the meal. She basked in his heated gaze and shivered at the brush of his fingers against her wrist as she placed food in front of him. Then, with a sultry backward glance, she had left to prepare his chambers for the evening.
    By nightfall, Giselle was pouring a stream of near boiling water into a large basin by the lord’s bedside. She set down the pail, which she’d lugged up the stone staircase just a few minutes before. Pausing for a moment, she stepped close to the room’s one large window and exhaled, peering out the dark glass toward her family’s patch of land. But the grey of dusk had already crept across the land, and all she could make out was a faint silhouette of the rolling hills in the distance.
    Wiping away the cloud of mist that had settled on the window pane from her light breath, Giselle turned away from the dark and headed for the hearth. A chill was settling into the air, and she needed to have a fire roaring soon. As she bent down onto her knees to scrape out any lingering ash, she wondered