amazement Gail flushed. “You’re a better wooer than I deemed,” she whispered.
Mark felt Gail touch him with her eyes, with herself. As some women bared their flesh she bared her soul, and from across the room he was stung by the shock of her nearness.
He could know her, if he dared.
That was the challenge in her eyes.
Mark’s fantasy returned to him, of holding her naked beneath him. He blushed, shamed to have such a picture in his mind while the real woman sat before him, head bowed and strangely vulnerable. For a panic-stricken moment he was sure she could see his vision of them making love. Resentment and tenderness and desire swirled in his heart.
He stood awkwardly in the doorway until by chance his hand brushed the iron dagger at his side. At its cool touch a weight settled through him, anchoring his heart firmly in his chest.
Gail said, “Please don’t go.”
Mark stepped back into the room. A moment hung between them then, clear and fragile as a bubble thrown up by a waterfall, drifting, delicately dancing between them.
Lissa closed the door behind him, and the moment was gone.
Better say summat, lad. You can’t stand around stiff as a plank forever . “What is all that?” Mark asked, pointing at the worktable with its scraps of leather and gutted corset.
Gail smiled mysteriously. “You’ll find out on your wedding day. —Which is what I wanted to talk about.” She sheathed her skinning knife and put it on the table. She was wearing her gold earrings, Mark noticed, the long teardrops that swung in tiny circles as she looked at him. “I’d like Janseni to do the music.”
“Good. Yes.”
“Do not answer quickly,” Lissa said. Her voice startled Mark; he had almost forgotten he and Gail were not alone. “Such a choice is not without its consequences. It will seem an insult to Lord Peridot, and through him to Duke Richard.”
“That’s the point,” Gail said. “‘If you can’t strike the master, kick his dog.’”
Lissa frowned. “No hope of any marriage to the Duke can now remain, Princess. You need not fear his band upon your finger: why antagonize him? The Lord of High Holt may decide to yield before inscrutable Fate, but never will he pass a challenge by, if you choose to offer one. He is not a gracious loser.”
“He better learn to be,” Gail snapped.
“Good by me,” Mark said. “Janseni will do the music. Was there owt else?”
Gail uncrossed her legs and swung her heels so they thumped against the edge of her bed. “Well, there was one other thing,” she said reluctantly.
There are certain things a young man does not like to hear about his wedding night.
“What!”
“I’m sorry,” Gail said firmly, “but it’s out of the question.”
Mark stifled a curse. “Can’t we at least fight about it in private?”
“You mean Lissa?” Gail’s head drew back, and her earrings whirled in angry circles. “You think I am the sort of woman who tarries alone with a man before her wedding day?”
Mark stared at her amazed. Her gall left him speechless. “As if it would matter!” he spluttered at last.
“Lissa is my oldest friend and closest companion. I suggest you get used to her. Wherever I go, she comes with me.”
“Even when you come, she doesn’t go,” Mark muttered.
“That kind of comment is ill-suited to a gentleman,” Lissa snapped.
Great. Now he had angered even the statue. “Did her remarks become a bloody lady?”
“Princesses don’t have to be ladies,” Gail said. “It’s the best thing about being one. Look, it isn’t as if I’m saying forever . Just, not now, that’s all.”
Guess I should be bloody honoured. I bet not many folks hear the vixen plead.
Gail looked at him with a shy smile, as if to say, I know I’m being very difficult, but we have a special relationship, you and I: I know you will understand. “I can’t stand all these cages! City walls, castle battlements…” She held up the drooping corset and
Mark felt Gail touch him with her eyes, with herself. As some women bared their flesh she bared her soul, and from across the room he was stung by the shock of her nearness.
He could know her, if he dared.
That was the challenge in her eyes.
Mark’s fantasy returned to him, of holding her naked beneath him. He blushed, shamed to have such a picture in his mind while the real woman sat before him, head bowed and strangely vulnerable. For a panic-stricken moment he was sure she could see his vision of them making love. Resentment and tenderness and desire swirled in his heart.
He stood awkwardly in the doorway until by chance his hand brushed the iron dagger at his side. At its cool touch a weight settled through him, anchoring his heart firmly in his chest.
Gail said, “Please don’t go.”
Mark stepped back into the room. A moment hung between them then, clear and fragile as a bubble thrown up by a waterfall, drifting, delicately dancing between them.
Lissa closed the door behind him, and the moment was gone.
Better say summat, lad. You can’t stand around stiff as a plank forever . “What is all that?” Mark asked, pointing at the worktable with its scraps of leather and gutted corset.
Gail smiled mysteriously. “You’ll find out on your wedding day. —Which is what I wanted to talk about.” She sheathed her skinning knife and put it on the table. She was wearing her gold earrings, Mark noticed, the long teardrops that swung in tiny circles as she looked at him. “I’d like Janseni to do the music.”
“Good. Yes.”
“Do not answer quickly,” Lissa said. Her voice startled Mark; he had almost forgotten he and Gail were not alone. “Such a choice is not without its consequences. It will seem an insult to Lord Peridot, and through him to Duke Richard.”
“That’s the point,” Gail said. “‘If you can’t strike the master, kick his dog.’”
Lissa frowned. “No hope of any marriage to the Duke can now remain, Princess. You need not fear his band upon your finger: why antagonize him? The Lord of High Holt may decide to yield before inscrutable Fate, but never will he pass a challenge by, if you choose to offer one. He is not a gracious loser.”
“He better learn to be,” Gail snapped.
“Good by me,” Mark said. “Janseni will do the music. Was there owt else?”
Gail uncrossed her legs and swung her heels so they thumped against the edge of her bed. “Well, there was one other thing,” she said reluctantly.
There are certain things a young man does not like to hear about his wedding night.
“What!”
“I’m sorry,” Gail said firmly, “but it’s out of the question.”
Mark stifled a curse. “Can’t we at least fight about it in private?”
“You mean Lissa?” Gail’s head drew back, and her earrings whirled in angry circles. “You think I am the sort of woman who tarries alone with a man before her wedding day?”
Mark stared at her amazed. Her gall left him speechless. “As if it would matter!” he spluttered at last.
“Lissa is my oldest friend and closest companion. I suggest you get used to her. Wherever I go, she comes with me.”
“Even when you come, she doesn’t go,” Mark muttered.
“That kind of comment is ill-suited to a gentleman,” Lissa snapped.
Great. Now he had angered even the statue. “Did her remarks become a bloody lady?”
“Princesses don’t have to be ladies,” Gail said. “It’s the best thing about being one. Look, it isn’t as if I’m saying forever . Just, not now, that’s all.”
Guess I should be bloody honoured. I bet not many folks hear the vixen plead.
Gail looked at him with a shy smile, as if to say, I know I’m being very difficult, but we have a special relationship, you and I: I know you will understand. “I can’t stand all these cages! City walls, castle battlements…” She held up the drooping corset and
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