Margaret Moore - [Warrior 13] by A Warrior's Lady Page A

have been surprised that he didn’t want to dance with her, given his feelings about their marriage, but it was distressing nonetheless, especially after that mind-numbing kiss.
    But Reece couldn’t very well stay away from her chamber tonight, or the king would hear of it and perhaps guess what he planned to do. That would anger the king even more, and since Reece was wisely cautious in that regard, she doubted he would take that chance.
    So, he would come to the chamber…and then what? Sleep on the floor? If they were alone for any length of time in the night—or indeed, for more than a few minutes, she supposed—people would assume the marriage had been consummated.
    Reece would not want that.
    What, then, was he going to do to imply to the king that he was doing his husbandly duty, while leaving it possible for people to believe that he had not?
    “ Mon Dieu, such a sigh,” Lisette said with a giggle. “And no wonder, my lady, with such a husband. Many young ladies are in despair this day! I tell you, several of them had hopes that Henry would change his mind and call off the wedding. I heard more than one thought of visiting Sir Reece last night for a last chance with him before he wed.”
    Although Lisette spoke merrily and surely only in jest, a sharp stab of jealousy pricked Anne nonetheless.
    “But then they did not dare. They did not wish to ruin their chances with his brothers or his friends.”
    Anne pushed aside her foolish jealousy. “Despite the lowly birth of Sir Urien Fitzroy?”
    “What is that when his sons are such fine, noble fellows? I assure you, their looks and their wealth make up for their father’s low birth, do they not? Why,the Morgans’ father was basely born, too, and there is not a woman here who would not consider herself fortunate to catch their handsome eyes.”
    Perhaps not, Anne reflected, but whether their families would approve such a marriage was another thing entirely.
    Lisette smiled wistfully and Anne studied her reflection in her mirror. “Would you count yourself fortunate to catch a Fitzroy’s eye?”
    Lisette giggled and her cheeks reddened as if Anne had boldly offered her husband to her. “Mon Dieu, non!”
    “But you think they are handsome men, do you not? Does not every woman at court?”
    Lisette set down the comb and returned her mistress’s steadfast gaze. “Handsome, yes. But for me, they are too much the warriors, the leaders of men. I want a man to be like clay in my hands, my lady. Soft and yielding. I would have a lover, not a warrior.”
    Anne saw the sincerity in the young woman’s eyes, and believed her.
    Then she thought of Reece’s lips on hers. They had been soft and yielding, and Reece might prove to be an even better lover than he was a warrior, if his kisses were anything to go by—but she would not tell Lisette about that.
    “That doesn’t mean they will not be the perfect lovers for somebody else, my lady,” Lisette continued. “Especially for a woman who, I think, wants a warrior in her bed.”
    Lisette was, perhaps, a bit too shrewd.
    “Now you are ready, my lady.”
    For bed. Anne flushed and warmed as she imagined Reece in her bed, naked save for the silken coverlet over his body.
    Fighting a surge of desire, she stood up and turned in a circle, her long, unbound hair to her waist.
    “How do I look?” she asked, trying to sound amused and not quite succeeding as Lisette studied her as if she were a work of art, and she the artist. “Like an angel, my lady.”
    “Then why are you frowning?”
    “Because a man wishes to find a passionate woman in his bed, not an angel.”
    No doubt Sir Reece would prefer it if she were a preternatural creature. Then he could have the marriage annulled on supernatural grounds.
    However, this maid was not to be privy to their plans, for it was a fact that all maids gossiped, and Reece would not want his plan to get to the queen, or the king. “All my shifts are white.”
    “Your skin is