The Wife Test by Betina Krahn Page A

he had been raised in religious orders. But while she yearned to make a life outside the narrow confines of religious life and vocation, he would gladly reject precious family ties and worldly freedoms to return to them.
    “Chloe?” Lisette’s voice intruded on her thoughts, and she looked up to find her sister-by-adoption peering at her and Graham from the edge of the partly opened door. “Oh, I did not know you were busy with
le bon monsieur.
I beg you, look inside my trunk for a length of toweling. I would not ask it of you, but”—she glanced with unabashed flirtatiousness at Sir Graham—“I have already taken off all my clothes.”
    He sprang to his feet as if shot from a bow.
    “I have duties.” He backed away, his gaze fixed adamantly on the toes of his boots. “If you need assistance, you have but to say the word.”
    As he fled, Chloe planted her hands on her waist and scowled at the one responsible for his haste. “You must learn to be more modest of eye and speech, Lisette. If you continue to look at men the way you just did Sir Graham, they will most certainly misunderstand.”
    “Oh”—Lisette glanced after the retreating Graham with a sultry smile—“I doubt that.”
     
    Hugh made his way down the darkened path that hugged the side of the cliff, headed for the fires on the beach below the village. The food and ale that lined his belly had improved his mood. Now, as he paused to survey the camp, he didn’t see anything that indicated female presence, and his mood improved still more. He took a deep breath of sea air and strolled down onto the sand.
    Two days were gone and, with any luck, only two remained before he discharged his duty and deposited the five maids in the king’s privy chamber. It was heartening to think of the surprise in store for Edward when he beheld Avalon’s surprisingly fair and nubile progeny. It was less so to think of what would happen to the maids when they reached Edward’s court.
    He recalled their artless questions about Windsor. Their girlish hopes and dreams shone through their carefully edited curiosity. They wanted young and handsome husbands … men of knightly birth, priestly morals, and princely disposition. And they were bound to be disappointed. Edward would realize instantly what a plum had fallen into his lap and would undoubtedly give them to the most advantageously wealthy and militarily capable of his unmarried nobles. Men like the old Earl of Ketchum … with his fat purse, rickety legs, and fanatical passion for hunting hounds.
    Just imagine Chloe of Guibray with—
    No,
don’t
imagine.
    He shook off thoughts of what their arrival at Edward’s castle would mean and trudged on through the sand.
    The driftwood fires cast a golden sphere of security over the wagons and the men camped on the beach. The tide was beginning to come in and the gentle rush of breaking waves provided a rhythmic and restful background for the sounds of their voices. For them, the coming voyage signaled the end of an arduous and uncertain journey. They had boarded ships bound for France more than a year and a half ago and in the intervening months had battled their way across the Aquitaine, then contended with rogue lords and defiant houses on the border between French- and English-held territory. Now they were on their way home. He watched their faces and envied them their anticipation.
    For him,
home
was not a possibility. A small, gray stone abbey near Oxford was as close to a home as he had ever known. But it would likely be a long time before he would see its gates and cloister again, much less take up a life there. He was bound to Edward for as long as the king desired his service. And even when the king did release him, there would still be the problem of his inheritance and his old father’s dynastic demands.
    He settled himself just outside the circle of firelight, on an upturned barrel beside one of the wagons. His thoughts began to drift, and he found himself