“Shall I summon the cook?”
He wouldn’t dare, would he? Of course he wouldn’t dare. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He shrugged. “Nay, you are right. It would be a waste of a perfectly good pair of boots.” His face hardened, and his eyes took on a lazy, dangerous cast. “Clean them, wench. Or feel the flat of my sword across your backside.”
She heard a snickering coming from the two guards behind her, which was abruptly cut off at a look from their master. The laundresses had stopped their beating, and an expectant silence had fallen over a bailey, which seemed suddenly filled with people. Even the mews and kennels were quiet. She thought of how humiliating it would be to be beaten like a disobedient child in front of all these strangers, and she knew she didn’t have the courage to test his resolve.
His eyes had fastened onto her mouth, as if he waited for her to speak. Her lips felt suddenly dry, and she wet them with her tongue. “I … I don’t have anything to wipe them with.”
His hand lashed out and Arianna flinched, thinking he meant to hit her. Instead he grabbed a fistful of her bliaut and yanked. The material gave way with a loud rip and Arianna flinched again. He jerked at the thin silk cloth twice more until a piece of it came free in his hands. He held it out to her.
“Now you do,” he said.
Beneath her bliaut, Arianna wore a pelisse, and beneath that a chainse. He hadn’t exactly stripped her naked, and her cheeks burned more from anger than embarrassment. She snatched the piece of ripped cloth out of his hand, but in the next instant she was possessed with adesire to laugh. It seemed he thought her good enough to wipe his boots after all.
Leaning over, she brushed off the drying flecks of mud. The boot was made of the finest Cordovan goatskin, but it had long since seen better days. The leather had almost worn through at the inside of his calf, from rubbing against his horse’s flanks. Her father would have thrown such a pair of boots out long ago. The knight obviously needed the money she would bring him. It angered her to think that his lot in life would now improve because of her.
Finished, she glanced up, expecting him to be watching her and gloating over her humiliation. But his eyes were focused instead on the keep at the far end of the bailey, and she saw to her surprise a look of naked hunger on his face.
“I’ve finished, Norman.”
His head jerked around, and he looked at her a moment, and she thought he might really be seeing her this time, though his face had regained its usual closed expression. He studied the boot, pointing to the heel. “You missed a spot.”
Arianna’s jaws clenched. She bent over, rubbing so hard her hand slipped and she cut her knuckles on the sharp edge of his spur. Tears of pain stung her eyes and she cursed beneath her breath.
“Did you say something, wench?”
She straightened with a snap. “I said give me the other boot and damn you to hell.”
His lips moved slightly, and she thought he might be about to smile. Instead, he dropped the spotless boot to the ground and supplanted it with a muddy one. Arianna finished the task in silence.
He examined her work. “Passable, but just barely.” His head came up and she saw in his eyes the glint of some unnamed emotion that came and then vanished. “Iwouldn’t hire myself out as a servant though, if I were you. You haven’t the talent for it.”
In spite of herself Arianna almost smiled. But before she could think of a snappy retort he had started to turn, and she realized he was about to walk away. She had found out nothing about what he intended to do with her.
“Wait!” she cried out, louder than she’d meant to. He paused, black brows raised in a mild enquiry. “Have … have you spoken with my father? Is the ransom arranged?”
“The matter has been concluded to my king’s satisfaction,” was all he said.
Arianna wanted to scream with frustration. She wanted to slap that
He wouldn’t dare, would he? Of course he wouldn’t dare. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He shrugged. “Nay, you are right. It would be a waste of a perfectly good pair of boots.” His face hardened, and his eyes took on a lazy, dangerous cast. “Clean them, wench. Or feel the flat of my sword across your backside.”
She heard a snickering coming from the two guards behind her, which was abruptly cut off at a look from their master. The laundresses had stopped their beating, and an expectant silence had fallen over a bailey, which seemed suddenly filled with people. Even the mews and kennels were quiet. She thought of how humiliating it would be to be beaten like a disobedient child in front of all these strangers, and she knew she didn’t have the courage to test his resolve.
His eyes had fastened onto her mouth, as if he waited for her to speak. Her lips felt suddenly dry, and she wet them with her tongue. “I … I don’t have anything to wipe them with.”
His hand lashed out and Arianna flinched, thinking he meant to hit her. Instead he grabbed a fistful of her bliaut and yanked. The material gave way with a loud rip and Arianna flinched again. He jerked at the thin silk cloth twice more until a piece of it came free in his hands. He held it out to her.
“Now you do,” he said.
Beneath her bliaut, Arianna wore a pelisse, and beneath that a chainse. He hadn’t exactly stripped her naked, and her cheeks burned more from anger than embarrassment. She snatched the piece of ripped cloth out of his hand, but in the next instant she was possessed with adesire to laugh. It seemed he thought her good enough to wipe his boots after all.
Leaning over, she brushed off the drying flecks of mud. The boot was made of the finest Cordovan goatskin, but it had long since seen better days. The leather had almost worn through at the inside of his calf, from rubbing against his horse’s flanks. Her father would have thrown such a pair of boots out long ago. The knight obviously needed the money she would bring him. It angered her to think that his lot in life would now improve because of her.
Finished, she glanced up, expecting him to be watching her and gloating over her humiliation. But his eyes were focused instead on the keep at the far end of the bailey, and she saw to her surprise a look of naked hunger on his face.
“I’ve finished, Norman.”
His head jerked around, and he looked at her a moment, and she thought he might really be seeing her this time, though his face had regained its usual closed expression. He studied the boot, pointing to the heel. “You missed a spot.”
Arianna’s jaws clenched. She bent over, rubbing so hard her hand slipped and she cut her knuckles on the sharp edge of his spur. Tears of pain stung her eyes and she cursed beneath her breath.
“Did you say something, wench?”
She straightened with a snap. “I said give me the other boot and damn you to hell.”
His lips moved slightly, and she thought he might be about to smile. Instead, he dropped the spotless boot to the ground and supplanted it with a muddy one. Arianna finished the task in silence.
He examined her work. “Passable, but just barely.” His head came up and she saw in his eyes the glint of some unnamed emotion that came and then vanished. “Iwouldn’t hire myself out as a servant though, if I were you. You haven’t the talent for it.”
In spite of herself Arianna almost smiled. But before she could think of a snappy retort he had started to turn, and she realized he was about to walk away. She had found out nothing about what he intended to do with her.
“Wait!” she cried out, louder than she’d meant to. He paused, black brows raised in a mild enquiry. “Have … have you spoken with my father? Is the ransom arranged?”
“The matter has been concluded to my king’s satisfaction,” was all he said.
Arianna wanted to scream with frustration. She wanted to slap that
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