Deformed’? That would be too harsh, Sir Knight. The poor women who look after the Keep lead such dreary lives that they have little else to talk of. Who are we to deprive them of such small pleasures?”
“If their pleasures interfere with my honor, then I’m afraid I will have them stopped.” He leaned closer, trying to catch her gaze, but she stared resolutely over his shoulder. “Besides, I see no need for the name. I can see no imperfection to warrant such harshness.”
Her hands gripped more tightly to each other, her nails drawing blood.
He hadn’t noticed! It seemed incredible to her, the darkness too evident to be hidden.
Perhaps he was attempting gallantry. Perhaps…but it didn’t make sense any way she shifted it about. Her brother hadn’t sent her a lover. He had sent her a punishment, and punishments didn’t entice with honeyed words. No, they pulled you apart piece by piece.
There had to be some deeper game being played here, some tactical reason for claiming her imperfections invisible.
Maybe he wanted to hear her declare her deformity. Maybe he was like her brother and enjoyed making her destroy herself. It had always made Roger feel like he was stronger than a god when he had brought her to her knees.
She tightened her jaw. She was not ready to play dead for this man yet. “Knight, I’ve no patience for idle flattery. My deformities are plain for all to see and I will not be mocked. Our marriage may give the rights to my land and my body, but I will not give you my pride on a platter. So beware.”
He raised a hand in supplication. “I meant no offence. I’m a blunt man and the subtleties you speak of are not in my nature. I was stating an honest puzzlement.”
“You mean you really don’t know?” she asked incredulously. “You mean my brother hasn’t prepared you for the role he wants you to play?”
Robert paused, trying to find the diplomacy that was normally lacking in his character. “Your brother and I do not move in the same circles,” he said carefully, not mentioning that he thought of Roger more as something that slithered out from under a rock than as a man. That didn’t seem to be the kind of thing that you mentioned to a man’s sister, however.
Nothing makes any sense, she thought with some agitation. She stood abruptly and began pacing.
“What does it mean?” she muttered darkly to herself, trying desperately to understand this latest ploy of Roger’s. In her agitation she forgot that Robert had moved the chair and his shout of warning came too late. She ran into the back of the chair and was beginning to topple over when strong arms grabbed her, steadying her against his firm chest.
For a moment she forgot her fear, and gave herself up to this strange new experience. Never before had she stood so close to a man that she could feel the ridges of muscles beneath the soft spun wool of his tunic.
So Robert had come to her dressed as a suitor after all, with no metal to hide behind. She wasn’t surrounded by the acrid smell of sweat-soaked metal; instead her senses were clouded with sandalwood, fresh air and another strange element that she couldn’t name, something unique to this man himself.
It was intoxicating, just as was the warmth radiating from his large body. For the first time since she had been exiled to this cold north, she felt a warmth that actually seeped into her bones, warming her to the core. Her limbs felt like they were on fire, but it was a strange fire that excited rather than hurt. It rushed along her nerve endings, causing sensations she didn’t understand, but she already knew she never wanted them to end.
It was a moment that seemed to both last forever and yet to end far too soon.
Robert struggled with himself. Every fiber of his body screamed the rightness of this near-embrace. She fit against him like she had been made to rest there. It seemed against nature to let go. He longed to pull her closer; longed to raise a hand along
“If their pleasures interfere with my honor, then I’m afraid I will have them stopped.” He leaned closer, trying to catch her gaze, but she stared resolutely over his shoulder. “Besides, I see no need for the name. I can see no imperfection to warrant such harshness.”
Her hands gripped more tightly to each other, her nails drawing blood.
He hadn’t noticed! It seemed incredible to her, the darkness too evident to be hidden.
Perhaps he was attempting gallantry. Perhaps…but it didn’t make sense any way she shifted it about. Her brother hadn’t sent her a lover. He had sent her a punishment, and punishments didn’t entice with honeyed words. No, they pulled you apart piece by piece.
There had to be some deeper game being played here, some tactical reason for claiming her imperfections invisible.
Maybe he wanted to hear her declare her deformity. Maybe he was like her brother and enjoyed making her destroy herself. It had always made Roger feel like he was stronger than a god when he had brought her to her knees.
She tightened her jaw. She was not ready to play dead for this man yet. “Knight, I’ve no patience for idle flattery. My deformities are plain for all to see and I will not be mocked. Our marriage may give the rights to my land and my body, but I will not give you my pride on a platter. So beware.”
He raised a hand in supplication. “I meant no offence. I’m a blunt man and the subtleties you speak of are not in my nature. I was stating an honest puzzlement.”
“You mean you really don’t know?” she asked incredulously. “You mean my brother hasn’t prepared you for the role he wants you to play?”
Robert paused, trying to find the diplomacy that was normally lacking in his character. “Your brother and I do not move in the same circles,” he said carefully, not mentioning that he thought of Roger more as something that slithered out from under a rock than as a man. That didn’t seem to be the kind of thing that you mentioned to a man’s sister, however.
Nothing makes any sense, she thought with some agitation. She stood abruptly and began pacing.
“What does it mean?” she muttered darkly to herself, trying desperately to understand this latest ploy of Roger’s. In her agitation she forgot that Robert had moved the chair and his shout of warning came too late. She ran into the back of the chair and was beginning to topple over when strong arms grabbed her, steadying her against his firm chest.
For a moment she forgot her fear, and gave herself up to this strange new experience. Never before had she stood so close to a man that she could feel the ridges of muscles beneath the soft spun wool of his tunic.
So Robert had come to her dressed as a suitor after all, with no metal to hide behind. She wasn’t surrounded by the acrid smell of sweat-soaked metal; instead her senses were clouded with sandalwood, fresh air and another strange element that she couldn’t name, something unique to this man himself.
It was intoxicating, just as was the warmth radiating from his large body. For the first time since she had been exiled to this cold north, she felt a warmth that actually seeped into her bones, warming her to the core. Her limbs felt like they were on fire, but it was a strange fire that excited rather than hurt. It rushed along her nerve endings, causing sensations she didn’t understand, but she already knew she never wanted them to end.
It was a moment that seemed to both last forever and yet to end far too soon.
Robert struggled with himself. Every fiber of his body screamed the rightness of this near-embrace. She fit against him like she had been made to rest there. It seemed against nature to let go. He longed to pull her closer; longed to raise a hand along