Sword for His Lady by Mary Wine Read Free Book Online

you like it?” one of the boys asked.
    She lifted one hand and pointed toward the open window. “Put the foot beneath the end of the trough.”
    The window cell was notched to keep the trough steady and the boys looked at it once they had set the large tub down.
    â€œThat’s a clever design,” one of the boys remarked.
    â€œMust save wear on the hands for sure.” They continued talking to one another as they left. Isabel frowned at their backs, annoyed at the way they had left her to the task of bathing their lord. Her irritation doubled when she remembered that it was Ramon de Segrave who had decided she would be the one washing his back.
    Along with several other intimate duties, if she wasn’t clever enough to outwit the man.
    Isabel walked closer to the tub and looked at it. It was quite large, but she realized that Ramon de Segrave would have had to sit with his knees against his chest in the tubs that she had to offer. She frowned—the tub was confirmation that he had come to her land with the intention of staying.
    If he had gained the king’s favor, she would have to wed him.
    That thought sent a chill down her back and she didn’t care for the weakness that was seeping into her. She was already thinking of yielding and it simply wouldn’t do. Moving quickly, she tried to use the chore of filling the tub to dispel her dark mood. She’d learned to stay busy so as not to dwell on the fact that she hadn’t cared for her husband’s touch, because the more she thought about it, the worse she dreaded sunset.
    A hiss came from the hearth and the water she had left to heat. It was boiling over the sides of the kettle. Reaching for a length of iron that had a hook on the end, she used it to pull forward the arm holding the kettle so she might grasp the handle. She poured it into the tub and set more water for heating.
    â€œHow curious to see you wearing a wimple now that we are in private.” A shiver crossed her back and rippled down her body. The man’s voice was like a sliver of a summer midnight, when the cool breeze was a welcome thing. Something you wanted to sink into and be wrapped in. Isabel bit her lip to contain her gasp. She resisted the urge to reach up and touch the veil that now covered her head.
    â€œThere was no reason to wrap my head when I was working in the keep with only my women about.” She gave him a stern look. “And I certainly cannot have a baron disappointed with my conduct.”
    The baron pulled off one of his leather gauntlets, tugging on each fingertip until he removed the garment. Her gaze lingered on the bare skin of his hand for a moment that seemed far too long.
    â€œYou are already contradicting yourself, Lady Isabel.”
    The baron’s dark eyes moved to the edge of the linen that she had wrapped around her hair. The bathhouse suddenly felt small with him here. He moved across the space between them and reached out to finger one lock of hair that was stubbornly curling outside the fabric. “For I find this moment quite pleasing.”
    This time her gasp was quite loud. She jumped back, retreating from his touch.
    â€œYour hair is quite comely, Isabel. You have set me the challenge of seeing it again. I enjoy a challenge.”
    She sucked in a harsh breath, reality cutting through the weakness in her knees. “Of course. Such is the nature of a man. To conquer challenges.”
    One of his dark eyebrows rose. “You believe me shallow. And yet, if I were a man who spent his days spinning tales of what he was going to do, while never accomplishing any of those things, would you not label me something worse?”
    Isabel turned away from him, guilt needling her. She dipped one hand into the water to test its temperature. There was no point in arguing with him. “Your bath is prepared.”
    â€œBut I am not.”
    She turned back to face him and frowned when she discovered him watching