Hers To Command. Margaret Moore

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СКАЧАТЬ it is time to eat,” Lady Mathilde announced, forcibly returning him to the here and now where he was hungry and still slightly damp. “Sir Henry, you may take my father’s chair. Giselle, you will sit to his right, Father Thomas to his left.”

      Like soldiers under her command, they all dutifully took their places, Lady Giselle keeping her eyes demurely lowered and never once looking his way.

      As the meal progressed, Henry ignored the lively Lady Mathilde on the other side of Father Thomas and instead tried to amuse, entertain and impress the beautiful Lady Giselle. During the first course of fresh bread, butter and a dish composed of turbot cooked in a sauce of leeks and saffron, he told his best, most amusing stories of some of the people he’d met at court.

      She never smiled. Not once.

      When a fine frumenty of beef cooked with onions, parsley and sage followed, he spoke of the tournaments he’d been in, and the knights he’d defeated. He told her some tales of his friends, Merrick, the lord of Tregellas and Sir Ranulf, now the garrison commander there. She made appropriate gasps and exclamations of dismay as he described the combat, but with a detachment that spoke of mere polite attention. As a pudding of eggs, cream, bread crumbs and ground meat, spiced with pepper and something more exotic that he couldn’t quite name, was set before them, he tried telling her about his sister and her exciting elopement with a Scot.

      That finally got a reaction from Lady Giselle. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. “To put her family through such fear and near disgrace,” she murmured. “It must have been so difficult for you.”

      “Well, I wasn’t there at the time,” he admitted, delighted he’d finally gotten some kind of rejoinder from her.

      But then Lady Giselle lapsed back into silence, causing Henry to subdue a disgruntled sigh. Never had he been met with less interest.

      This did not bode well.

      Maybe he should see if that buxom serving wench was as friendly as she seemed, even though he knew a tumble wouldn’t guarantee him a good night’s sleep. On the other hand, it might clear his mind of these ridiculous fancies featuring Lady Mathilde that persisted in dancing about the edge of his mind even as he spoke to Lady Giselle.

      As the last of the baked fruit was cleared away, Lady Giselle pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “If you will excuse me,” she said quietly, her gaze on her sister and Father Thomas, and without so much as a glance in his direction, “I shall retire early tonight.”

      “It’s been a tiring day,” Lady Mathilde agreed, although she herself didn’t seem the least fatigued.

      “Thank you for this fine meal, my lady,” the priest said as he, too, rose. “If you will excuse me, I will take the leavings to distribute to those who wait at the gate.”

      “Certainly, Father,” Lady Mathilde said. “It has been a pleasure, as always, and if there is more I can do, you have but to ask.”

      “Thank you, my lady, and God’s blessing upon you and all who dwell herein.”

      Father Thomas turned to Henry, who had likewise gotten to his feet. “Thank you, my son, for coming to the aid of these ladies in their hour of need,” he said, his warm expression like a benediction. “God will surely bless you for your generosity.”

      Considering that his reasons were not entirely selfless, Henry couldn’t quite meet the priest’s friendly gaze. “It is my honor, Father.”

      After the priest left the dais, Henry decided he might as well retire. “I should sleep, too, my lady.” Or try to. “It’s been a long and rather unusual day.”

      A rush light in her hand, that pretty maidservant appeared at once, as if she’d been waiting for just this moment. “I’ll light his way, my lady.”

      Lady Mathilde reached for the rush light. “You should help in the kitchen, Faiga. I shall show Sir Henry to his chamber. If you will follow me, Sir Henry.”

      She briskly set off for the curved staircase, leaving Henry to trail after her as the priest had. While Henry obediently complied, he was more amused than annoyed by her proprietary attitude. Perhaps she thought Faiga required protection from the handsome young guest, although he doubted Faiga would agree. Or maybe she thought Faiga had been too forward.

      Whatever Lady Mathilde thought about the servant or her behavior, Faiga slid from Henry’s mind as they went up the steps. Instead, he found himself hard pressed not to stare at Lady Mathilde’s rather attractive backside, her slim hips and rounded buttocks swaying with every step. He smiled as he thought of her happiness when she introduced him to the priest, and the way she accepted the clergyman’s preference to live among those most in need.

      When they reached the second floor, Lady Mathilde stopped at the first door. “This will be your chamber while you are here. It was my father’s, so it is the largest. I hope it’s to your liking.”

      Her tone made it clear she was sure he would.

      “Considering some of the places I’ve had to lay my head,” he honestly replied, “I’m sure it will be.”

      She made no answer as she opened the door and preceded him inside. The flickering light of the rush illuminated the large chamber, although the corners were still in shadow. A bed dominated the room, its curtains dark and thick, probably made of heavy velvet. A table with a silver ewer and basin and clean linen stood beside the door, and a chair and trestle table were near the window, where the sunlight would fall upon the surface during the day. He could smell the scent of lavender, either from the bedding or the lump of soap by the basin. Wherever it came from, it was welcome, reminding him of more pleasant times before he had been accused of treason and betrayal.

      Outside, rain lashed against the walls and the wind moaned about the battlements. He didn’t envy the men on watch tonight, provided there were men on watch. Given what he’d already observed, he wouldn’t be surprised to discover that they deserted their posts in bad weather.

      Lady Mathilde lit the thick yellow beeswax candle in the holder there. Another larger stand with several thinner candles stood in the corner.

      For a moment, he thought her hands trembled, but she tucked them in the cuffs of her simple gown before he could be sure.

      Why should her hands shake? Surely she wasn’t afraid of him.

      “Your baggage,” she said, nodding at a familiar bundle in the corner near the bed.

      “Thank you,” he replied with a reassuring smile. “This room is most comfortable.”

      He thought she might go then, but she didn’t move.

      Why not? What was she waiting for, especially if she was uncomfortable in his presence? And surely it was unseemly for her to linger here, alone with him.

      Unless what she was feeling was not fear, but something else that could make a woman quiver. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one having lustful thoughts. “Is there something more you wish of me, my lady?” he asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral in case he was wrong.

      Her gaze met his, steady and determined. “I should warn you, Sir Henry, that if you think to seduce my sister, you should think again.”

      He СКАЧАТЬ