serious than that.
“Nay—we’ll put an end to this right now,” Julianna told her, her tone firm.
Mary raised her head. Tears had smeared the filth on her face, making her appear even more messy and miserable than before. She seemed to have folded in upon herself as well, becoming a vulnerable and confused child-woman brought to face an angry mob, rather than the aggressive rebel Julianna had assumed her to be from her previous actions.
“Come, calm yourself.” Julianna snatched at the trailing corner of Mary’s bundle and carefully wiped at the dust and filth smearing the maid’s face. The simple action seemed to startle Mary so much that she remained motionless until Julianna finished.
Not so a mottled blotch marred Mary’s smooth skin, Julianna marveled, and Mary’s eyes, tear-dewed though they were, bore no trace of red from her crying. Especially compared to the angry women facing them, Mary did appear a sight to tempt a man. ’Twas easy to see why the othersresented her—for her looks alone!—whether or not she’d done what they accused her of.
“Thank ye, milady,” Mary whispered. She squared her shoulders and straightened as Julianna had bid her. Evidently heartened by her mistress’s support, the maid smiled. ’Twas a wobbly attempt, but at least the wench had ceased her crying, Julianna noted wryly. Mary drew in a deep breath, an act which made her bosom threaten to spill from her loose bodice, and elevated her gaze, and her chin, in a challenging pose. She tugged her gown into place and fixed her stare on the group of women.
“No more sniveling or whining,” Julianna warned. “Or accusations, either. We cannot all stand about wasting time.” She glanced at the two factions, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “Let’s put an end to this here and now, so we can all go about our business.”
Diccon stepped a little away from his fellows and cleared his throat. “Don’t ye worry none, Mary. We’ll see to it they leave ye alone, just like we always do.” He glanced around the group, his gaze lingering on Joan and another, slightly younger woman who stood nearby. They glaredback at him. “The miserable old witches are just jealous o’ you, ’tis all.”
Interesting. Julianna hadn’t considered that there could be any other reason for Mary to spend most of her time in the men’s barracks besides the obvious one that she was spreading her…favors…among the men.
She doubted ’twas as innocent as the young soldier made it sound, though after Diccon had spent the past few years training and living with the rough lot of men-at-arms who made up her guard, she didn’t imagine him to be an innocent, either.
Especially as he’d grown up in the village among the earthy and opinionated survivors of her father’s old band of outlaws.
He turned to Julianna, his expression so earnest she immediately revised her previous assumption. “We been keepin’ an eye on her, milady, so’s they’ll leave her be. At least wi’ us she’s safe from their pinchin’ and proddin’ and spiteful ways.” He pointed to the bandage tied about his upper arm, the white linen vivid against the sleeve of his grimy brown jerkin. “In return, she fixes us up when we need it.”
“I’ll wager she ‘fixes’ ye all right, Diccon,” a woman in the back of the group quipped.“Though I don’t imagine the hurt she fixes is anything ye’d want a bandage tied ‘round.’ O’ course, I could be wrong.”
That conjured up an interesting image in Julianna’s mind, though the man her imagination brought forth was tall, blond and handsome—and had nothing whatsoever to do with Diccon. Still, the remark had been funny; she bit back a snort of amusement, for she doubted ’twould serve for her to join in the chorus of laughter that met that observation.
Still, she couldn’t help but be glad of the comment, for even some of the women appeared distracted from their previous fury.
Julianna realized
“Nay—we’ll put an end to this right now,” Julianna told her, her tone firm.
Mary raised her head. Tears had smeared the filth on her face, making her appear even more messy and miserable than before. She seemed to have folded in upon herself as well, becoming a vulnerable and confused child-woman brought to face an angry mob, rather than the aggressive rebel Julianna had assumed her to be from her previous actions.
“Come, calm yourself.” Julianna snatched at the trailing corner of Mary’s bundle and carefully wiped at the dust and filth smearing the maid’s face. The simple action seemed to startle Mary so much that she remained motionless until Julianna finished.
Not so a mottled blotch marred Mary’s smooth skin, Julianna marveled, and Mary’s eyes, tear-dewed though they were, bore no trace of red from her crying. Especially compared to the angry women facing them, Mary did appear a sight to tempt a man. ’Twas easy to see why the othersresented her—for her looks alone!—whether or not she’d done what they accused her of.
“Thank ye, milady,” Mary whispered. She squared her shoulders and straightened as Julianna had bid her. Evidently heartened by her mistress’s support, the maid smiled. ’Twas a wobbly attempt, but at least the wench had ceased her crying, Julianna noted wryly. Mary drew in a deep breath, an act which made her bosom threaten to spill from her loose bodice, and elevated her gaze, and her chin, in a challenging pose. She tugged her gown into place and fixed her stare on the group of women.
“No more sniveling or whining,” Julianna warned. “Or accusations, either. We cannot all stand about wasting time.” She glanced at the two factions, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “Let’s put an end to this here and now, so we can all go about our business.”
Diccon stepped a little away from his fellows and cleared his throat. “Don’t ye worry none, Mary. We’ll see to it they leave ye alone, just like we always do.” He glanced around the group, his gaze lingering on Joan and another, slightly younger woman who stood nearby. They glaredback at him. “The miserable old witches are just jealous o’ you, ’tis all.”
Interesting. Julianna hadn’t considered that there could be any other reason for Mary to spend most of her time in the men’s barracks besides the obvious one that she was spreading her…favors…among the men.
She doubted ’twas as innocent as the young soldier made it sound, though after Diccon had spent the past few years training and living with the rough lot of men-at-arms who made up her guard, she didn’t imagine him to be an innocent, either.
Especially as he’d grown up in the village among the earthy and opinionated survivors of her father’s old band of outlaws.
He turned to Julianna, his expression so earnest she immediately revised her previous assumption. “We been keepin’ an eye on her, milady, so’s they’ll leave her be. At least wi’ us she’s safe from their pinchin’ and proddin’ and spiteful ways.” He pointed to the bandage tied about his upper arm, the white linen vivid against the sleeve of his grimy brown jerkin. “In return, she fixes us up when we need it.”
“I’ll wager she ‘fixes’ ye all right, Diccon,” a woman in the back of the group quipped.“Though I don’t imagine the hurt she fixes is anything ye’d want a bandage tied ‘round.’ O’ course, I could be wrong.”
That conjured up an interesting image in Julianna’s mind, though the man her imagination brought forth was tall, blond and handsome—and had nothing whatsoever to do with Diccon. Still, the remark had been funny; she bit back a snort of amusement, for she doubted ’twould serve for her to join in the chorus of laughter that met that observation.
Still, she couldn’t help but be glad of the comment, for even some of the women appeared distracted from their previous fury.
Julianna realized
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