Read Medieval 01 - Untamed for Free Online Page A

you didn’t care for ‘whey-faced wenches.’”
    â€œThere is a difference between cream and whey,” Dominic retorted.
    â€œYou sound quite taken with the wench. That is unlike you.”
    Dominic shrugged. “She is an unusual maid. Cleaner by far than the average country lass, graceful of limb, and with delicate hands.”
    â€œYou always preferred the ripe and willing type, a rose full-blown and eager for the bee’s sweet sting.”
    â€œAye.”
    â€œIs she willing?”
    The smile Dominic gave his brother made Simon laugh.
    â€œShe will be,” Dominic said. “She was taken with me, though she was nervous of it. Ah, what a joy she will be to seduce. She was made for spring, the season of desire. There will be no winter for the man who sleeps within her warm sheath. She will—”
    Abruptly Dominic stopped speaking and turned toward the sound of hurrying footsteps.
    â€œLord Dominic,” called the squire from beyond the drapery.
    â€œWhat is it?” Dominic asked impatiently. “Have you found her?”
    â€œLady Margaret’s handmaiden wishes to speak with you. Most urgent it is, lord.”
    â€œGod’s blood,” muttered Dominic.
    He wrapped the drying cloth around his hips, grabbed his cape, and whirled it around his shoulders to ward off the chilly drafts.
    â€œWhy is it the only women you can find are the ones you don’t wish to see at all?” he grumbled.
    Simon opened his mouth to speak, but Dominic wasn’t finished.
    â€œWhey-faced whelp of a temple whore…” he said beneath his breath. “God’s eyes, but she is a tiresome female.”
    â€œIs that a yea or a nay to Eadith’s request for an audience?” Simon asked.
    â€œSend the good widow in,” Dominic said in a normal tone.
    Eadith must have been listening closely. The drapery shifted and she walked in. When she realized how little Dominic was wearing, her eyes widened into a stare.
    â€œSpeak,” he said irritably. “Where is your mistress?”
    â€œLady Margaret begs your understanding. She is indisposed,” Eadith said hurriedly.
    Yet despite her unease, Simon noted that the widow’s pale blue eyes fairly ate every bit of the lord who stood unconcerned before her, fresh from his bath.
    Dominic glanced at the handmaiden’s pale features, flaxen hair, and thin lips, and wished himself once more back among the Saracen women. Their darkly golden skin had been as seductive as thesideways glances from lustrous black eyes. Next to them, the women of the northern marches seemed as pale and uninteresting as cotter’s cheese.
    Except for one green-eyed girl, and she had fled him as quickly as her shapely legs could take her. The memory of it still angered Dominic.
    God’s blood! Since when does a gentle caress send a wench running?
    â€œIndisposed, is it?” Dominic said silkily. “Nothing serious, I trust.”
    â€œHer father is ill. Surely that is serious?”
    â€œI am her future husband.” Dominic’s teeth showed in a thin curve of white against his black beard. “Surely that is serious?”
    The cold white gleam of his teeth made Eadith shift her feet uneasily. The motion sent ripples through the worn woolen folds of her tunic.
    â€œOf course, lord.”
    â€œTake my greetings to Lady Margaret, and my most urgent wish to meet my future wife,” Dominic said distinctly. “Simon, the gift.”
    His brother hesitated.
    Dominic raised his left eyebrow in a silent warning.
    Simon nodded curtly, scooped aside Dominic’s discarded clothes, and opened the small chest. He picked out a piece of jewelry that rested on top of the gleaming heap, Dominic’s choice as a gift for his reluctant bride.
    â€œTake that to her,” Dominic said. “A small token of my regard for my betrothed.”
    At Dominic’s careless gesture, Simon stepped forward and