bland.
Apparently undeterred, he went on, “I could not help but ask Lord Shaine who that glorious creature in the wine-colored gown was. Imagine my surprise in learning that you were one of his slaves.”
Glorious creature ? I didn’t know whether to blush a darker wine than my gown or possibly burst out laughing. Still, this was not the first time I had come up against a practiced flirt. Even amongst those who studied to become part of the Order were men who seemed to take pursuit of the fairer sex even more seriously than the pursuit of knowledge.
“That is true, my lord,” I said gravely, but I feared that I could not help but let a smile tug at one corner of my mouth.
Unfortunately, he seemed to take that ghost of a smile as encouragement to continue further. “How on earth did you come to be here?”
“Much as any of the other slaves, I fear. Taken in the night and sold in the markets of Myalme.”
His fine eyebrows lifted. “And that is all that you share with them, I wager. You’re no more like the rest of that—” and he waved a hand to indicate the servers working to clear the tables— “than my matched pair of bays are like a set of draught horses.”
Despite myself, I felt the color rise in my cheeks. Although his attention was unwanted and uninvited, it was also flattering. Few women would be completely immune to such words, even though they were highly inappropriate.
“You are too kind,” I said, lifting my eyes to meet his, “but I fear I have no more status than any of the rest of them. Once, perhaps, things were different, but—” I spread my hands in a helpless gesture, and I could see his gaze sharpen as he caught the tattoo on my left palm.
“So you’re the one who doctored Lady Auren?” he asked, and I nodded. “We had heard of you, but somehow I had envisioned you as some old crone dispensing salves and poultices.”
I wasn’t sure what offended me more—the use of the term “crone” or the thought that a physician of the Order was good for no more than mustard packs on rheumy chests or lotions for stinging nettles. “It is true that I am still young for my work,” I admitted, once I was certain my voice would not reveal how his words had infuriated me, “but the Order would not have granted me the status of a traveling doctor if I were not ready for it.”
“Of course not,” he said quickly, and I wondered if I had let some betraying anger creep into my face.
“Ill luck brought the slavers to the village where I had been working, but ill fortune turned to providence, as otherwise I would not have been here to take care of Auren.” I realized as I said the words that I should have referred to her as “Lady Auren,” but he appeared not to hear the slip.
“By all accounts you’ve done a marvelous job,” he offered. “Her limp is hardly noticeable.”
I looked past him to the head table, where Auren still sat. She laughed at something the pinch-nosed boy next to her said, and I decided I must revise my opinion of him somewhat. Surely Auren would not find him so amusing if he were at all tedious and mean-spirited. Certainly he was closer to her in age than either of the other two, and that counted for much.
He followed my gaze, then looked back at me with a knowing smile. “I am remiss,” he said. “I have not yet introduced myself. I am Lord Arnad of Sleane. And you are?”
“Merys Thranion...lately of Lystare,” I added.
“Lady Auren seems to have made a great impression on my young Lord Larol—and he on her.”
“Disappointed?” I asked, even though I knew I skirted the bounds of propriety with such a question.
“Hardly. One must follow the forms, but I had no great interest in joining my fortunes to Lady Auren’s, considerable though hers might be.” His voice softened, becoming uncomfortably intimate. “My tastes run to more...mature women.”
Again the flush rose in my cheeks, and I wondered what on earth I could do to remove
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