Lord of My Heart by Jo Beverley Read Free Book Online

to send the Bastard back where he belongs.”
    “Dreams, Gyrth. William’s fixed in England like a mighty oak, and he’ll bring hell on it before he gives up an acre. But he’s dealing fairly with all who accept him. If Hereward swears allegiance, he’ll receive some of his land back.”
    “Receive back,” Gyrth echoed in disgust. “A man’s land is his land. Not the king’s to give and take.”
    “Not under Norman law, and a rebel’s land has always been subject to forfeit. William is respecting the rights of loyal men.”
    “What of a man’s right to be free? I hear tell a lord over Banbury way’s making slaves of any freemen he finds and setting them to work. Where’s your just king in all that?”
    Aimery faced him. “William can’t know everything.”
    “He can be told. By you, perhaps. If you insist on living on both sides you can make yourself useful at least.”
    It was a challenge. Aimery nodded. “Indeed I can. We have time to visit Banbury before returning to Rolleston. We’ll go there tomorrow and see exactly what’s going on.” He looked down ruefully at his clean body and clothing. “I wouldn’t have washed if I’d known, though.”
    As he bundled up the rough clothing he wore as an outlaw, Aimery noted the satisfied look on Gyrth’s face. “We go to observe and report, not to take action. I’ll not be pushed into committing treason, Gyrth.”
    “So who’s pushing?” asked Gyrth innocently.
    Aimery shook his head and turned to lead the way to their camp.
    “You’ve left your cloak somewhere,” Gyrth said.
    Aimery grinned. “So I have. Hold on.”
    As he returned, Aimery pressed his cloak to his face and smelled the same soft perfume he’d inhaled from her skin. Rosemary and verbena, perhaps.
    Gyrth looked at him and leered. “So that’s what took you so long. You must be a fast worker, lad, but was it worth the risk? I thought you didn’t want anyone here catching sight of Aimery de Gaillard, Norman lord.”
    “She never saw me.”
    Gyrth slapped his knee and hooted with mirth. “By Woden, I should watch you in action sometime! Come on, though, before her husband turns up with an ax.”

    Wrapped in the cloak against the night chill, Aimery lay tangled in thoughts of the dusky maiden even as he sought sleep. He tried to turn his mind to plans of action, but they wove back to the curve of her hip, the silk of her hair, the heated perfume of her skin.
    By the Chalice, it hadn’t been that long since he’d had a woman!
    He turned restlessly and pulled the cloak tighter.
    Wisps of verbena and rosemary wrapped around him. He surrendered and allowed his mind the path it desired.
    She was comely. Unfortunately their position had given him little more opportunity to see her features than she’d had to see his, but the sweet curve of her cheek was fixed in his mind, and he had studied the back of her neck at leisure. Smooth, sun-gilded skin over subtle flesh, warm and spicy on his tongue . . .
    He stirred restlessly. These thoughts were not adding to his comfort. He rolled on his back and stared up at the stars. Perhaps he should just present himself at Baddersley as Aimery de Gaillard and take the pleasure the wench was so eager to give. Aimery de Gaillard had every right to stop in at Baddersley and request hospitality . . .
    This was madness. Baddersley hadn’t been Hereward’s principal estate, but Aimery had visited it often enough to be known. His disguise was effective, but if the Baddersley people saw Edwald the outlaw and Aimery de Gaillard within days, some of them would make the connection and talk of it.
    It must have been too long since he’d had a woman if he was letting a comely wench tempt him into such danger.

    Aimery awoke the next morning believing himself cured. He and Gyrth breakfasted on fish, bread, and water and set out for Banbury.
    The clothes they wore were those of poor peasants— a coarse homespun tunic belted with braided leather and, for a