Her Dark Knight by Sharon Cullen Read Free Book Online Page B

me, sir, I must find my husband.”
    He placed a hand on the wall beside her head. His body brushed against hers. Madelaine’s face heated in mortification.
    “The count is otherwise occupied.” His smile turned into a sneer and his gaze raked her bodice. Her gown was not risqué, for her husband would not allow any skin to show, but all the same she felt sullied by the brother’s hot leer on her chest.
    “Otherwise occupied” meant her husband was engaged with his mistress. The thought didn’t affect her like it used to. Let the other woman have him and his sickening bedsport. In fact it gave her hope that maybe tonight he would leave her alone.
    Lucien trailed a dirt-encrusted fingernail down her cheek, over her chin and straight to her bodice. She pushed his hand away, causing him to chuckle. “Don’t be such a prude, Madelaine.”
    Her gaze darted to the men walking past, oblivious to the scene playing out a few feet from them. There would be no help from that quarter for they feared Brother Lucien and with good cause.
    Lucien’s lust for her was a dirty secret she kept to herself. Her husband would never believe the truth and would punish her for even uttering the words that would condemn the one person for whom he had the utmost respect. The one person who knew her husband’s secrets.
    She slid to the right. Lucien blocked her by placing his knee against her thigh. Madelaine closed her eyes in humiliation. ’Twasn’t often she gave in to the anger inside her for she’d learned anger was a useless emotion, but Lucien’s constant advances, his obvious lack of respect for his lord’s countess and his position in the church had taken their toll. With an act of defiance she would later pay a price for, Madelaine shoved hard.
    Taken off guard, Lucien stumbled back, his eyes wide in surprise. She hurried away, losing herself in the crowd of knights heading to the tables set up for the evening meal. She always felt as if she needed a bath after her encounters with Lucien, but bathing was a luxury she could ill afford. For one, her husband wouldn’t permit it and two, he would be furious if she did not arrive for the evening meal.
    Knights took their places at the long tables. Quiet conversation whispered through the hall, but for the most part everyone was subdued.
    Unlike her parents’ hall, no musicians played their instruments, no lively chatter rang throughout the hall and certainly no laughter. The evening meal, served after vespers, was a serious affair. Lucien read from the Bible and everyone was expected to listen. Talk was absolutely forbidden during this time.
    Madelaine hated it. She hated the strict lifestyle her husband imposed on all who lived under his roof. Even visitors were subject to the stringent regimen. Although most visitors did not mind since they were the Knights of the Order Templar who fought in the Crusades and were used to the lifestyle.
    It was no secret the Count of Flandres did not want to wed her. A fact she learned only after the wedding ceremony. He did so only because her family’s connection to King Philip IV—a distant cousin—was too powerful a lure for the Templars. A marriage of one of their most devout followers to Madelaine’s family would secure innumerable political connections. The count had done his duty, but that didn’t mean he liked it and he took his displeasure out on Madelaine every day of her life.
    The quiet whispers of the knights died when the count entered, his critical eye roving the room, looking for the slightest infractions, eager to punish those who didn’t follow his rules.
    He claimed he punished for the person’s own good and the good of their immortal soul. However, she saw the gleam in his eyes when he ordered a knight flogged. She saw his barely repressed excitement when he watched the flogging. ’Twasn’t natural, but she would be the last one to put her fears into words.
    His dark gaze landed on her and her stomach churned in