Read My Lady's Pleasure for Free Online

with your goodness and Ulric’s strength, we’re safe and cared for,” the farmer’s wife said. “All because of you.”
    Joan, one of the workers from the scullery came forward and dropped to her knees before Josalyn. “I do heartily thank you.”
    Josalyn reached a hand down to her. “Please get up.”
    “I never told you, but when my baby son fell in the river and drowned, I almost followed him,” Joan said.
    That dreadful day. The tiny body they’d found downstream. The poor woman had cried in her lap for days.
    “I would have been a suicide,” Joan said. “You saved my soul.”
    Josalyn helped the woman get to her feet. “I’m not a saint. I can’t save souls.”
    “You saved our farm after the flood wiped us out,” the farmer’s wife added. “We owe you everything.”
    “Enough for tonight,” Josalyn said. “’Tis late.”
    The farmer’s wife curtseyed. “Good night, my lady.”
    “Be well,” Josalyn said. “Take care finding your homes, or curl up before the fire in the hall.”
    With more murmured thanks and blessings, they filed out, and Anne closed the door behind them. “Do you still think I could replace you?”
    “I pray you could.” Josalyn went to the bed and sank onto it. “Good night.”
    “You’ll do the right thing. You always do,” Anne said before letting herself out and closing the door behind her.
    Do the right thing. She always did. It appeared she’d have to do it again.
    “Curse you, Viking.”
    ***
    Not even the worst battle, with men screaming and dying and blood running in streams, stopped Ulric’s heart in his chest as completely as the sight of his bride as she stood beside him in her family’s chapel. Her women had dressed her in a kirtle the color of buttered cream. Her green eyes were huge in her face, and her parted lips offered the sweetness of ripe fruit. She stood next to him, her hands folded in front of her and her gaze downcast. Even through her gown, he could detect the swell of her small breasts and the curve of her hips. He’d feel those curves under his palms this night. He’d taste her, thrust inside her.
    She was frightened now. He’d hurt her later–unavoidable with a virgin. But, before the next morning dawned, he’d hear her cry of feminine ecstasy.
    The priest Olaf had finally found started the ceremony. Latin. He didn’t understand a word of it, but the meaningless sounds would give this woman to him, and nothing else mattered.
    It went on and on, droning and casting a spell over his mind. His reality constricted and focused in on Josalyn. Her skin, her long lashes, the long plait of her hair that hung down her back. She did her best to hold herself still, but she trembled anyway. No one else would notice, not even the priest directly before them. But, Ulric somehow sensed everything inside her, even how her heart clenched tight and her breath came uncertainly. All because she feared him.
    I’ll make it right, Josalyn. Only find some patience with me. I’ve never loved before.
    Loved? God’s wounds. Had he really thought that? If so, had she heard him?
    She looked up at him. “My lord?”
    “You did hear,” he whispered.
    “Hear?” She cocked her head. “I only meant the vow.”
    “Of course.” Everyone in the chapel was staring at him, especially the priest.
    “Father Robert asked if you’d take me as your wife,” Josalyn said softly. “Faithfully and until death. It’s the standard vow.”
    He nodded toward the priest. “I do.”
    Father Robert repeated the same words toward Lady Josalyn. She hesitated and then looked squarely up at the priest. “I do.”
    All the air rushed out of him. Until that moment, he’d not known if she’d actually do it. She didn’t want him. She’d made that clear. She belonged to him now, but he’d still have to win her over.
    After a few amens, people crossed themselves, and it seemed the whole thing had ended. Josalyn turned to him, her eyes filled with what looked like