The Troubadour's Romance by Robyn Carr Page B

carefully to their conversations. The men spoke of fighting and horses and the women of housekeeping matters and children. She tried to imagine herself in Boltof ’ s embrace, but the image was difficult for her. Boltof had a certain boyish charm and hard-earned muscles on his short frame. His hair was a wavy mass of dull blond and his skin was fair like his sister ’ s. She wondered if in time, with effort, she would come to treasure the light in his small eyes or crave a touch from his large, square hands.
    She thought it possible they would have handsome children, but wondered lazily if they would have passion.
    She let her thoughts wander to Sir Royce, whose lusty demands were already known to her. Her visions came with more difficulty here, for harder still was the thought of Celeste bending within Royce ’ s iron-hewn arms. Had she yielded to his powerful kiss? Celeste was comely, but far from robust. In Felise ’ s imaginings, Celeste would be crushed by Royce ’ s meagerest caress.
    The hour grew later and the queen had left the hall when Sir Boltof asked if he might escort Felise to her rooms. The courtship had drawn itself out to the farthest limits it could go without a sanction for the wedding. He was clearly making his claim known among their families, and Felise felt herself trapped. However she viewed the alliance, it appeared to be well out of her hands. Lady Edrea seemed ready to make some protest, but Lord Scelfton cut her off and gave his loud assent. “ Aye, take the lass to her rooms and return quickly. You are on your honor, Sir Boltof. ”
    Boltof had her arm and was leading her away almost before she could bid her parents and their company a decent good night. He had been into his cups, leaving his gait somewhat uneven, and was riding high on what he sensed was approval from her father.
    “ Sir Boltof, ” she begged, “ please slow your pace and loosen your grip. I go willingly enough; I am not a prisoner. ”
    He slowed abruptly and freed her arm. His manner was instantly humbled. “ It is your willingness I want more than anything, Lady Felise . With a word from you, we can post the banns for our marriage. ”
    She almost laughed, for his words were slurred by too much wine. “ You needn ’ t fear I would rebuff my father ’ s choice for me, ” she told him calmly, laying a hand on his arm.
    “ I would have it be your choice as well, my lady. ”
    Felise smiled tolerantly. “ Our acquaintance has been brief and -- ”
    “ I knew I loved you instantly, ” he proclaimed.
    “ Sir Boltof, you demand much if you would have me pledge my love after but one eve of company. Yet I would not dismiss you. Is that not enough? ”
    “ You might show more warmth, lady, to one who pledges so much so soon. ”
    A slight chuckle rose to her lips. “ The better portion of a skin of wine is pledging this night, kind sir. Let us see what the morrow brings. ” She turned as if she would venture again in the direction of her rooms and found herself quickly pulled into his clumsy embrace.
    “ But ... I want you . .., ” he whispered urgently.
    Felise believed that for all purposes this match was approved. The king would not likely argue the marriage if Harlan could boast Boltof ’ s loyalty and family. She felt his warm, wine-soaked breath on her face and instinctively turned away, while trying desperately to follow her mother ’ s advice. She had no desire to feel his kiss and could not muster the strength to answer him in warmth. There was no instinctive knowledge to help her guide his errant step with grace or disengage herself without hurting his pride.
    “ Please, Sir Boltof, would you dishonor me here and now? ”
    “ In a short time you will be my wife, ” he promised, trying to reach around her waist to pull her nearer.
    “ The lady protests, ” she heard a familiar voice interrupt.
    Boltof whirled to face the man and Felise was freed in the process. She quickly moved back a pace and