The Modest and the Bold by Leelou Cervant Read Free Book Online Page A

really suppose I would remain your lover now that I
know I’m not the only one you accept between your thighs?” Loosing
her in disgust he gave her his back.
    “ Well, why not? None of
the others cared!”
    Whirling around, Fulke
took Adele’s left arm in a vicious grip and towed her to the door.
Hand on the latch, he bent his head and stated in a menacing
whisper, “And that is where you went amiss, my lovely little whore,
thinking that I am like all the others.” Jerking the door open he
shoved her out and slammed it in her face.

T EN
    When the natural light had faded Constance and Judith had
moved to sit at the trestle table that held an oil lamp burning
with three wicks. It was at this new station, hours later, her
servants away to bed, that Constance cut the thread she had been
plying, set down her needle, and tied-off her work. Taking up her
shears again, she snipped the threads holding her project in place
upon the embroidery frame. Setting both the frame and the shears
down, she extracted the dangling threads from the square’s border.
All finished, she raised the decorated corner closer to the triple
flame lamp to view it better. Finding the end result of so many
arduous hours to her satisfaction, she sighed.
    Setting the square down
Constance left the table to undressed. Going over to the shelves
situated above a different table, she took down the tiny beaker of
marigold oil she’d brought back with her prior to going off to meet
with Sir Fulke earlier that day. Pulling out its stopper she poured
a small amount into her palm, set the beaker down, and rubbed her
hands together. After infusing her skin with the aromatic oil she
set the beaker back in its place, donned her chemise, and pinned
her cloak about her shoulders.
    Folding up the precious
linen square, she placed it into the snug bodice of her
undergarment and left her chamber. Creeping through the antechamber
so as not to wake Judith and the other girls, she stepped out into
the corridor and absconded down to the stairwell and onward to the
secret passage.
    Ascending into the old
hall, Constance parted her lips to call out for Sir Fulke. He
startled her when he abruptly exited the shadows. He took her hands
in his and led her into the light below the window. Thinking that
he was eager for her, her mouth bowed as she rose to her toes to
kiss him.
    “ My lady. There is
something we must discuss.”
    Heeding how the
seriousness of the knight’s tone matched the tilt of his eyes,
Constance lowered to the soles of her feet, her own eyes expectant
now.
    “ This cannot carry on, my
lady. It was erroneous of me to have allowed things between us to
venture this far. You are a lady deserving only of the highest
treatment. All I shall humbly seek of you henceforth is your pardon
for the slip in my scruples.”
    Having heeded only that he
no longer wished to see her in so intimate a manner, Constance
swallowed hard as her body threatened to cast up the accounts of
her belly. Dropping her eyes she withdrew her hands from his. “Oh…I
see,” she replied. Without meeting his gaze again, she added, “Your
request for pardon is unwarranted, sir. What transpired between us
was sanctioned by myself as much as by you.” Staggered by this
unexpected twist in their affair, her retreating step was
dispirited. Reaching the trapdoor she remembered her gift. Delving
past her cloak she extracted the folded square of linen from her
chemise. Returning to him, she took his hand and place the gift
into his palm, saying in a listless voice, “Here, I made this for
you.” Then she turned and departed.
    Constance trudged back to
the castle, the inviable dagger now embedded in her heart twisting.
Once gaining the safety of her bedchamber she took off her cloak,
got into bed, and closed her eyes, tears rolling down from beneath
her shivering lids.
    * * *
    In the face of Lady
Constance’s apparent melancholy, Fulke had forced his longing to
take her into his arms deep down, to