Always by Lynsay Sands Page B

corrected. “It is your dower land.”
    â€œIt is?”
    â€œAye.”
    The silence closed in around them again and Rosamunde sighed. Her husband was the taciturn sort, it seemed. Wonderful . Glancing to the river that ran along the side of the clearing, she searched her mind for something to discuss. “Where is it you are from, my lord?”
    â€œKinsley.”
    â€œWhere is that?”
    â€œNorthern England.”
    â€œIs that where your family lives?”
    â€œAye.”
    Rosamunde frowned at the answer. He wasn’t very forthcoming with information. “Do your parents still live?”
    â€œMy father does.”
    Rosamunde waited for him to expound on that. When he remained silent, she asked, “Have you any brothers or sisters?”
    â€œOne brother. Two sisters.”
    â€œOlder or younger?”
    â€œOlder brother. Younger sisters.”
    Rosamunde waited again, then decided to give up. His closemouthed behavior was very trying. Perhaps his brusqueness was because he was tired. Traveling was a bit wearying. It was annoying to her, at any rate. All that dusk kicking up at her. And after this second day of travel she felt as if she had rolled on the ground. Dirt and grit seemed melted into her very skin.
    Her gaze moved toward the river, this time with a touch of longing. All that water. It would have been nice to have a bath. Of course, that was impossible out in theopen. There was no tub to fill, or even pails with which to fill one.
    Aric raised his eyebrows questioningly when Robert nudged him. When the other man gestured, he glanced toward his wife to see her staring at the river with yearning. His gaze took in the slow-moving water. He debated within himself briefly, then decided. “Would you like to bathe?”
    Rosamunde sat up straight at that question, her eyes widening. “Could I?”
    Aric shrugged. “I do not see why not.”
    Her mouth widened into a glorious smile. She fairly beamed at him. “That would be lovely.”
    Aric blinked and nearly smiled back, then caught himself and stood abruptly. “Come along then.”
    Standing eagerly, Rosamunde followed him to the river’s edge, then along it for a distance until they were out of sight of the camp they had made. When he stopped suddenly, she stopped as well. She peered at him questioningly.
    â€œGo ahead,” Aric murmured, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the nearest tree to wait patiently.
    â€œGo ahead and what?” she asked slowly.
    â€œGo ahead and bathe.”
    Rosamunde turned, surveying the area. “Where?” she asked with bewilderment.
    Aric frowned at her obtuse behavior. “In the river.”
    â€œOutside? In the open?”
    His eyebrows lifted at her horrified expression; then he recalled that she had just come from an abbey full of nuns. Women had raised her, and he doubted very much if the good sisters were much into skinny-dipping. Proper baths were probably the only kind they had.
    Sighing, he straightened. “I would supply a tub if I could. Unfortunately, while traveling, one has to make dowith what is available. The water will be colder than you are most likely used to, and you will have to use my cape for a towel, but there is no one to see, and you will be able to wash the dust away.”
    Rosamunde simply stood where she was, silent. She had never bathed in a river. She had never bathed outside the abbey at all. Once a month all the nuns took their turn in the tub the abbess had placed permanently in an empty cell. The rest of the time they made do with standing washes—unless they fell into the mud or a pile of dung, or somehow managed to make a mess of themselves. Usually, though, only Rosamunde and Eustice did that. They tended to end up having a bath once or twice a week due to one calamity or another. Still, she had never bathed out in the open before. The abbess would not think it was proper.