A Kingdom of Dreams by Judith McNaught Read Free Book Online Page B

him, "and small ones at that. What's more, you won't trust anyone to guard them except Arik or one of us," he said, referring to the knights who made up Royce's elite personal guard and were also trusted friends. "You're keeping them bound and under guard like they were dangerous men, able to overpower us and escape."
    "I can't trust anyone else with the women," Royce said, absently rubbing the back of his neck. Abruptly, he lurched out of his chair. "I'm tired of the inside of this tent. I'll go with you and see what they want."
    "So will I," Stefan said.
    Jenny saw the earl coming, his long effortless strides bringing him swiftly toward their tent, two guards on his right and his brother on the left.
    "Well?" Royce said, stepping into their tent with the three men. "What is it this time?" he demanded of Jenny.
    Brenna whirled around in panic, her hand over her heart, her face a picture of flustered innocence as she hastened to take the blame for annoying him. "I—it was
I
who asked for him." She nodded in the direction of the guard. "For Sir Eustace."
    With a sigh of impatience, Royce withdrew his gaze from Jenny and looked at her foolish sister. "Would you care to tell me
why
you did?"
    "Yes."
    It was actually all she was going to say, Royce realized. "Very well, then
tell
me."
    "I… we"—she cast a look of sheer misery at Jenny, then plunged ahead—"we… would like very much to be given thread and needles."
    Royce's gaze swung suspiciously to the person most likely to have conceived some way of using needles to his own physical discomfort, but today Lady Jennifer Merrick returned his gaze levelly, her face subdued, and he felt an odd sense of disappointment that her bravado had been depleted so quickly. "Needles?" he repeated, frowning at her.
    "Yes," Jenny answered in a carefully modulated voice that was neither challenging nor submissive, but calmly polite as if she'd quietly accepted her fate. "The days grow long and we have little to do. My sister, Brenna, suggested we spend the time sewing."
    "Sewing?" Royce repeated, disgusted with himself for keeping them bound and under heavy guard. Lionel was right—Jenny was merely a small female. A young, reckless, headstrong girl with more bravado than sense. He'd overestimated her simply because no other prisoner brought before him had
dared to
strike him. "What do you think this is, the queen's drawing room?" he snapped. "We don't have any of those—" His brain stalled as he searched for the names of the contraptions which women at court spent hours of every day sewing upon with embroidery thread.
    "Embroidery hoops?" Jenny provided helpfully.
    His eyes raked over her in disgust. "I'm afraid not—no embroidery hoops."
    "Perhaps a small quilting frame then?" she added, innocently widening her eyes as she held back her laughter.
    "No!"
    "There must be
something
we could use needle and thread on," Jenny added swiftly when he turned to leave. "We'll go quite mad with nothing to do, day after day. It doesn't matter
what
we sew. Surely you must have something that needs sewing—"
    He swung around, looking startled and pleased and dubious. "You're volunteering to do
mending
for us?"
    Brenna was a picture of innocent shock at his suggestion; Jenny tried to imitate her look. "I hadn't thought of mending exactly…"
    "There's enough mending needed here to keep a hundred seamstresses busy for a year," Royce said decisively, deciding in that moment they ought to earn their bed and board—such as it was—and mending was exactly the right form of payment. Turning to Godfrey, he said, "See to it."
    Brenna looked wonderfully stricken that her suggestion could have resulted in their practically joining forces with the enemy; Jenny made a serious effort to look balky, but the moment the four men were out of earshot, she threw her arms around her sister and hugged her exuberantly. "We've just overcome two of the three obstacles