Part 29 (2/2)
Instead he warmed himself against the fire of her body. With his fingers he started at her waist and explored her spine, one vertebra at a time. He marveled at the tension that kept her so erect, and as he neared the nape of her neck, the tautness grew ever greater. He pushed the weight of her laden hair crispinette aside and bared the fine fair skin. Leaning close as if to kiss it, he let her flex in antic.i.p.ation, then said, ”I want to talk to you about our servants.”
She jumped, although whether from his words or the movement of air across her flesh, he did not know. Her fingers faltered, then she resumed her sewing. ”Our servants?”
”Yours and mine.” He breathed in the scent of lemon balm that clung to her. ”Surely you've noticed we have a problem.”
”Not one I understand.”
”Nay?” From this angle, he could see down her s.h.i.+ft. Leaning back a little, he fixed the angle until he had a view of one entire breast. ”Guy complained to me, too.”
”Guy? He seems so pleasant!”
”Oh, he likes you. He simply thinks you should mind your needle. It's a prejudice you've faced before, I know.”
”Aye, with Sir Walter, but it wasn't Guy's abilities about which I inquired.” When she faced him their faces were inches apart. She looked earnestly into his eyes and her lips moved close to his as she protested, ”It was the preparation of the foodstuffs for the men-at-arms and-” her gaze dropped to her own shoulder as if looking at him rattled her, ”-the times they should eat.”
They sat so close he could almost taste her. ”Why do you care?”
She realized it, too. Her color rose in her face, and she cast him one quick glance, then again spoke to her shoulder. ”I thought perhaps we could manage to get them their food from the kitchen so they wouldn't have to prepare their own on those braziers.”
”You didn't explain that to him.”
”I'm the lady. I don't have to give explanations.”
He could only see the top of her head and the gape in her s.h.i.+ft, and the top of her head couldn't compete for his attention. ”Yet when a new lady comes and changes the way things have been done for generations, some might feel resentment and fail to cooperate as they should.”
Her chest rose and fell as she considered, and he longed to weigh her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his hand, to see if they had grown.
Then she looked up at him, and he forgot about her body in his pleasure at seeing her face. ”What do you suggest?”
”Do you know who among my servants should be in command?”
”Aye, of course.”
”Will your maids work for them?”
”My maids will do as they're told.”
”Unlike their mistress.”
She faced front again and picked up the sewing she'd dropped.
”Appoint my servants to their tasks and place your maids within their ranks. Tell them they now know how you would have your household kept, and that Lady Edlyn and Philippa will watch to ensure they continue as you have instructed.”
”Why should they listen to Lady Edlyn and Philippa if they balk at taking orders from me?”
”They know you're their lady, and they know you've rescued us from at least another month of starvation until we can get the crops in. But they don't relish having all of their number stripped of authority and replaced with your people.” He shrugged. ”It's the way of all folk, I think.”
She sewed until she reached the end of her seam. Then she bit off the thread and said, ”You're an intelligent man. I should have seen it myself.”
Modestly, he kept silent.
”However, you should apply your intelligence to the way you're raising your daughter. It is inappropriate.”
He stiffened. ”How so?”
”She's a girl, and you're teaching her manly ways.”
”What's wrong with manly ways?”
”She's seven years old. She knows not how to clean, nor sew, nor spin, nor cook.”
”There's time for her to learn.”
”Why would she want to? She's told me frankly that men's work is much more interesting then women's.” She stared ruefully at the garment in her hand. ”Of course she's right. Cleaning a pot is not nearly as exciting as breaking a wild horse.”
He watched as she licked the brilliant yellow thread, then ran it through the needle's eye and began to embroider a pattern at the neck. ”Do you like to sew?”
She glanced at him sideways. ”Why do you ask?”
”You're always doing it. All the women are always doing it. I just thought-”
”That we enjoyed it?” She laughed, a bright waterfall of amus.e.m.e.nt, and Philippa and Lady Edlyn joined her. ”Keeping a household in clothing takes every available moment, and will for the rest of my life. For the rest of my servants' lives, also.”
He looked at them in awe. ”So you have to do something you hate forever.”
”I don't hate it.” Holding the baby, Philippa drew closer to the table. ”Not most of it.”
”I hate spinning.” With her arms crossed over her chest, Lady Edlyn exuded hostility.
David drew a little away from Alisoun. Their moment of privacy had pa.s.sed, but he didn't mind so very much. Contact had been reestablished, and that was enough for now.
”What about you, Alisoun?” He held his arms out to Hazel, and the baby came into them willingly. ”Do you hate sewing?”
”I try not to think about it.” She put her needle down with an air of decision. ”But you're evading the question. Bertrade is an heiress. She'll have Radcliffe, at the very least, for dowry.”
He stood Hazel on the table and she laughed as she tested her new upright stance. When had Bert grown beyond this simple stage of life? When had she become a headstrong girl rather than a dimpled babe?
Unaware of his paternal concerns, Alisoun continued speaking, forcing him to face facts. ”She'll have fathers courting you on their sons' behalf, and they'll want her to wed at twelve. Do you want her to go ignorant to their homes, to never take her proper position as lady?”
”Nay, of course I don't want that.” He clenched his jaw. Guy had warned him that his loyalties would be torn. He hadn't warned him he would be called upon to conspire against his own child. ”But twelve's too young to wed.”
”And seven's too old to be untrained in women's ways.”
He gave up. He had no choice. ”Train her then.” A suspicious wetness darkened Hazel's diapers, and he told Philippa, ”Get me the cloths and I'll change her.” Philippa tried to refuse, but he wouldn't give up the baby to her care. He wanted to hold this child, to touch her soft skin, to reminisce about Bertrade's babyhood. ”I've done it before.” He looked meaningfully at Alisoun. ”And I'll do it again.”
Alisoun watched his suddenly possessive clutch on the babe without comment, but she wouldn't leave the subject of Bert alone. ”I can't train her. She runs away from me.”
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