Judith left the room. She went to make certain the hall was deserted and would remain so for a while. No one must hear.
Leonie tried to calm the wild beating of her heart, prepared to withstand the worst from this large brute. Long shaggy hair and a thick beard suited his rough manner. Murky blue eyes impaled her with a strange light, unnerving her badly. But it was Richer’s slow grin that made her stomach turn over in terror.
Chapter 7
I N Crewel that night, a different kind of fear was taking its toll on Lady Amelia. She did not want to be sent back to court where she had been just another of Princess Alice’s ladies-in-waiting, just another pretty face among so many. She had no power there, no control over her own life. She must forever dance attendance on the princess, do her bidding, suffer her moods.
A landless widow without relatives could expect few prospects. More important, Amelia had found being a wife not nearly as desirable as being a mistress. She had been her husband’s mistress before they wed and her circumstances changed so drastically afterward that she was not at all displeased when he died. A man will not strive to please his wife as he does his mistress, for a wife cannot leave him, while a mistress can.
She knew, too, that the quality of lovemaking from a husband could not be compared with that of a lover. Perhaps the church had much to do with that, preaching that lovemaking was solely for procreation and not to be enjoyed. Amelia’s husband had been an attentive lover until they wed, and then he looked on their joining as a duty and, like other duties, best done quickly.
No, Amelia was not fool enough to want another marriage, not even marriage with her current lover, who was the most handsome of all the men she hadtaken to her bed. But she also did not want to leave him. He might be abrupt, even prone to rages, but her position as Rolfe d’Ambert’s mistress had turned out to be so much better than she could have hoped for. She was treated with respect, almost as if she were the lady of Crewel Keep. She had power here, as much as any wife would have, and she loved it. There was no other woman of rank here, only servants, no other woman she must answer to. Here there was only Rolfe, and he asked nothing of her that she wasn’t willing to do.
But Amelia did not deceive herself over the situation. She had all that she wanted here, but it was only by Rolfe’s will that she had it. When he finished with her and sent her back to court, there would be nothing she could do about it. All she could do was delay that time and wheedle as many trinkets and gifts from him as she could so that, when the time came for parting, she might be able to buy a house in London where she could sell her favors.
If Rolfe put her aside now, she would have to return to the princess or look for a new lover. She knew she would never find another one like Rolfe, a man willing to take her into his home. It was only because he was unmarried that she had managed that.
It was late when Rolfe entered his chamber and found Amelia ensconced in his large bed. She was not sleeping. She watched him as he crossed to the fire, now burning low. He had not looked her way, and the frown creasing his brow kept her from speaking. Was he thinking how he would tell her they must part?
“Come help me with this armor, Amelia. I have already dismissed that incompetent squire of mine.”
So he did know she was there, and awake. The simple request told her so many things that she wantedto laugh. He had not forgotten her! He meant to join her in the bed. That he expected to do so on the night before he was to wed told her what he felt about his intended bride.
Amelia slipped from the bed. She did not reach for her bedrobe. She was a tall, statuesque woman, twenty-three, with a sleek body of which she was proud. She did not need to resort to hidden bindings to attain a stunning effect, even in the form-fitting clothes of the day. Naked,