covered both with a slashed-sleeve jerkin.
None of the garments looked padded, his wide shoulders and muscular body
needing no enhancements. Woolen stockings disappeared under the short breeches.
Square-toed boots and shiny spurs completed the outfit.
Adrian looked equally handsome even though his clothes
seemed more casual. He’d donned a very short slashed jerkin over his shirt. A
codpiece topped his poofy woolen slops. Garters held up his trunk hose and
horned slippers covered his feet.
Diane wondered about the codpiece. Did it hide a lack of
stature? Or did it conceal hidden treasures?
As for her own clothes… She’d failed to convince Marget to
leave off the corset, but had gained support for a bum roll in lieu of a
hoopskirt-like farthingale. Her long, heavy skirts restricted her gait. The
corset constricted her lungs and pushed her breasts so far above her low-cut
bodice she feared they’d fall out. Not that either man seemed to mind.
Adrian’s clenched hands might disguise an eagerness to delve
beneath her bodice. Walker’s gaze kept shifting between Adrian and her bosom.
Raising her hand to his lips, he brushed a kiss over her knuckles then met her
eyes.
“Remember, milady, that I shall have equal time and
opportunity.”
His meaning couldn’t have been clearer. No swiving…er, penetration .
Which left plenty of room for other kinds of pleasuring. The idea heated her
overexposed chest and lowered face.
Walker tilted her chin to look into her eyes, but kept his
thoughts to himself. Good thing, because another warning from him might have
tipped the scales in Adrian’s favor. At the end of her grace period four months
from now, the men would have all the power. Until then, by damn, she would do
as she wished.
Walker gave her a curt nod. Biting back You are not the
boss of me , she moved closer to Adrian. He looked delighted. Walker turned
on his heel then strode across the patterned tile floor, his spurs jangling as
if echoing his indignation.
Tough! She was every bit as angry. How women with
half an ounce of brains survived in this era was beyond her. Swallowing
resentment, she followed Walker out the doors into a sun-bathed courtyard. The
portcullis stood open, the drawbridge spanned the wide moat.
So Belleange remained capable of defending itself, the
larger rooms attributable to…what? Adrian’s wealth? Wealth provided by her dowry in that other life?
Whoa. She had to remember she wasn’t that
twelfth-century woman. Whatever thoughts she shared with Diane de Vesay now
were due to allowing herself to hear. Whatever emotions they shared—like
craving sex?—would remain fleeting. She’d make sure of that. Especially since
she had no intention of falling in love with either man, wouldn’t risk carrying
those feelings with her when she returned to her own life. She might fall in
love here, but what kind of pressure would that put on the men in their common
modern time?
Watching Walker ride away without a backward glance made her
stomach clench like it did when she drove through an unexpected dip in the
road. Carousels whirled deep in her belly as if they wanted to escape their
platforms. A jolt of fear sank then rose to her throat. A polite cough took her
attention to Adrian.
An expectant smile lit his entire face, giving him that
youthful look that both appealed to her and appalled her. It made her feel so
much older and more…just old.
“What shall we do today, milady? Er, Diane.”
So he intended to proceed posthaste into familiarity.
Forcing a smile, she batted her eyelashes and puckered her lips like some
simpering twit. “What would you like to do, milord? Um, Adrian.”
His face red, he grinned sheepishly. “Need you ask?”
She simpered then glanced down, maiden shy. “I would like to
learn more about you.”
“I have courted you for a long time. What else can I tell
you?”
“No doubt you courted me under the king’s sharp eyes.” She
doubted Henry had eyes to spare
None of the garments looked padded, his wide shoulders and muscular body
needing no enhancements. Woolen stockings disappeared under the short breeches.
Square-toed boots and shiny spurs completed the outfit.
Adrian looked equally handsome even though his clothes
seemed more casual. He’d donned a very short slashed jerkin over his shirt. A
codpiece topped his poofy woolen slops. Garters held up his trunk hose and
horned slippers covered his feet.
Diane wondered about the codpiece. Did it hide a lack of
stature? Or did it conceal hidden treasures?
As for her own clothes… She’d failed to convince Marget to
leave off the corset, but had gained support for a bum roll in lieu of a
hoopskirt-like farthingale. Her long, heavy skirts restricted her gait. The
corset constricted her lungs and pushed her breasts so far above her low-cut
bodice she feared they’d fall out. Not that either man seemed to mind.
Adrian’s clenched hands might disguise an eagerness to delve
beneath her bodice. Walker’s gaze kept shifting between Adrian and her bosom.
Raising her hand to his lips, he brushed a kiss over her knuckles then met her
eyes.
“Remember, milady, that I shall have equal time and
opportunity.”
His meaning couldn’t have been clearer. No swiving…er, penetration .
Which left plenty of room for other kinds of pleasuring. The idea heated her
overexposed chest and lowered face.
Walker tilted her chin to look into her eyes, but kept his
thoughts to himself. Good thing, because another warning from him might have
tipped the scales in Adrian’s favor. At the end of her grace period four months
from now, the men would have all the power. Until then, by damn, she would do
as she wished.
Walker gave her a curt nod. Biting back You are not the
boss of me , she moved closer to Adrian. He looked delighted. Walker turned
on his heel then strode across the patterned tile floor, his spurs jangling as
if echoing his indignation.
Tough! She was every bit as angry. How women with
half an ounce of brains survived in this era was beyond her. Swallowing
resentment, she followed Walker out the doors into a sun-bathed courtyard. The
portcullis stood open, the drawbridge spanned the wide moat.
So Belleange remained capable of defending itself, the
larger rooms attributable to…what? Adrian’s wealth? Wealth provided by her dowry in that other life?
Whoa. She had to remember she wasn’t that
twelfth-century woman. Whatever thoughts she shared with Diane de Vesay now
were due to allowing herself to hear. Whatever emotions they shared—like
craving sex?—would remain fleeting. She’d make sure of that. Especially since
she had no intention of falling in love with either man, wouldn’t risk carrying
those feelings with her when she returned to her own life. She might fall in
love here, but what kind of pressure would that put on the men in their common
modern time?
Watching Walker ride away without a backward glance made her
stomach clench like it did when she drove through an unexpected dip in the
road. Carousels whirled deep in her belly as if they wanted to escape their
platforms. A jolt of fear sank then rose to her throat. A polite cough took her
attention to Adrian.
An expectant smile lit his entire face, giving him that
youthful look that both appealed to her and appalled her. It made her feel so
much older and more…just old.
“What shall we do today, milady? Er, Diane.”
So he intended to proceed posthaste into familiarity.
Forcing a smile, she batted her eyelashes and puckered her lips like some
simpering twit. “What would you like to do, milord? Um, Adrian.”
His face red, he grinned sheepishly. “Need you ask?”
She simpered then glanced down, maiden shy. “I would like to
learn more about you.”
“I have courted you for a long time. What else can I tell
you?”
“No doubt you courted me under the king’s sharp eyes.” She
doubted Henry had eyes to spare
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