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apart until this visit. Curious at the way Magdalyn drawled the word maid with such sarcasm, Emma had murmured, Her lady s maid? Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Hm. She is much more than maid. If court gossip is to be believed, she is Lady Ascot s lover. Though of course, for propriety s sake she is called maid. Lover? Emma had gaped in amazement at the very idea. Being a woman herself, she was positive the maid would not have that odd appendage that was needed for the joining. How could they possibly be lovers then, she had wondered with confusion. But when she had stated these thoughts aloud. Lady Magdalyn had laughed and shaken her head in amazed disgust. You are naive, are you not? she had drawled, then stood and moved to another seat. Moments later, loud laughter had drawn Emma s eyes along the table to find Magdalyn and the woman next to her laughing openly as they eyed her. The snapping of a twig brought Emma s eyes open with a start to stare at the man before her. Bertrand. She eyed him warily, discomfort creeping up her back when he smiled at her. Good morning, Lady Emmalene. I see you like gardens as well. We have something in common then. Shifting carefully to the side to move around him, she nodded stiltedly. I must return to my husband. I have been remiss in neglecting him so. He will be fraught. More than fraught, she thought grimly. Her husband would be livid should he learn that she had put herself in a position to be caught alone and unawares by Bertrand. He had ordered her to stay in the room where he could protect her at all but mealtimes. Then she was to travel directly to the hall to dine, then return directly. In fact, he had taxed Blake with the chore of seeing her back and forth. But on arriving at the table that morning. King Richard had announced his wish to have a word with him. When her husband s friend had hesitated, Emma had assured him that she would be fine and would return directly to her husband once she had finished breaking fast. Only then had he reluctantly stood to join his king. One did not refuse royalty. Emma truly had meant her promise when she had made it, but after Magdalyn had left her alone, a servant had placed some greasy cheese and a chunk of brown bread before her and Emma had felt her stomach roll in protest. For a moment she had feared she might be ill, then had managed to swallow the bile in her throat. She did not think she was coming down with anything. In truth she blamed her jumpy stomach on the constant tension of anxiety she had been suffering, not only this last day, but for weeks now. Her stomach had always been the first to react to troubles. Her head was usually second, and she could already feel the beginnings of the aching gathering in her head. Is he often fraught? Bertrand asked, and was not surprised by the startled confusion on her face. He knew her thoughts had been far away. He had watched the play of emotions cross her face for the last several moments, his heart lifting with hope as he noted that each expression seemed to be a negative one. A frown, a sigh, a grimace. Aye, Lady Emma was not happy in her marriage. He had suspected such would be the case. De Aneford was a great buffoon with beefy hands and little between the ears but wood. How could anyone prefer a man like that over himself? Impossible. Bertrand was aware of his attractiveness to women. Nay. Lady Emmalene did not love her husband, Bertrand decided now. He had feared it might be otherwise when Gytha had told him that she cried out at night with her passion, but now he decided those cries had been pain-filled sobs. Nay, they had not been cries of pleasure the wench had heard. Women did not do such things. It was only men who shouted their victory as they succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh. He ought to know. Had he not bedded a hundred women at least? And not one of them had cried out with pleasure. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Emma frowned over his question, and rubbed her forehead in a vain attempt to ease the aching that was beginning there. I must return to my husband. Wait! Catching her arm, he drew her back to his side. I heard of Lord Amaury s misfortune and wished to express my sympathies. Emma s mouth tightened at his words. It was more likely he wished to gloat than sympathize. Noting her displeasure, Bertrand nearly clapped his hands with glee. To him it meant that truly she was not happy in her marriage. It was impossible that she might see through his words and be aware that it was he and his mother behind the many misfortunes her husband had experienced of late. His mother was too clever. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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