The Warrior's Wife by Denise Domning Read Free Book Online Page B

Innocent, Amicia called her, and innocent she was. Excitement woke deep in him. That Kate was unschooled in the ways of love he no longer doubted. The proof was in the guileless way she’d shifted her body against his and the fact that she’d offered no caresses of her own.
    Rafe grinned. Unschooled aye, but not unwilling, not with so much passion in her kiss. By God, her maidenhead aside, it would be he, Rafe Godsol, and no other man, who made Kate Daubney a woman.
    As his determination to own her grew Rafe’s gaze shifted to the man beside her, Sir William of Ramswood. It didn’t take a scholar to recognize that the shire’s newest widower was ogling the lift of Kate’s breasts beneath her silken gowns while pretending to listen to her. Rafe sneered. If that paunchy wreck was the best Bagot could do for his daughter, Kate would likely leap to join a Godsol in secret marriage, enemy or no.
    “Rafe!” The sound of his shouted name echoed up into the hall’s rafters. Rafe turned to find Sir Simon de Kenifer motioning to him from the opposite side of the room.
    “Come join us,” Simon called. “We’ve emptied our own purses dicing and would now like a chance at yours.”
    Rafe shot a final glance at Kate. Now that she knew who he was it wasn’t likely he’d have another chance to approach her this evening. Not that it was necessary; nay, he’d done enough for one night, and the morrow offered plenty of opportunity. As tradition demanded, the newlyweds would cling close to their chamber for all of the next day. To honor them the wedding guests would likewise remain close to Haydon. Baldwin of Haydon planned a short hawking excursion into the nearby woods with a picnic and dancing to follow.
    Again Rafe smiled. Summer foliage was thick. The possibility woke of luring Kate far enough away from the others to kiss her once more, if not steal her outright.
    Content, he made his way to where the remainder of his companions stood. “Dicing already?” he asked as he came to a halt beside them. “I thought you meant to wait a day or two before you lost your riches.”
    “We’ve no choice,” Simon said, shooting him a sidelong glance. “There’s nothing else for us to do now that so many here know we serve the king. A good half of Lord Haydon’s guests shun us, so busy are they plotting rebellion against our monarch. The other half only want to convince us they’re yet loyal liege men, so we might carry the tale of their faithfulness to our royal master. Lord, but we grew so tired of listening to them we were almost sorry to have begged leave so we could return from France for this event.”
    Beneath the fringe of Simon’s light brown hair, sly amusement gleamed in the young knight’s pale eyes. A grin pricked at the corners of his mobile mouth. “That left us naught to do but wager over what you’re watching from the shadows.” He paused, his smile quivering a little. “So, just what were you watching?”
    “What am I ever watching?” Rafe asked with a shrug, knowing full well past behavior would lead his friends to assume he once more planned a seduction. Not even they would think him bold enough to plot the theft of the Daubney heiress.
    His companions hooted. “What, indeed, save some rich man’s wife?” laughed dark Hugh d’Aincourt from beside Simon, pouncing upon the bait left for him. It was whilst the king battled his Welsh son-by-marriage a few years back that Hugh had won the thick scar across his cheek. Rather than detract from his appearance, it lent Hugh’s otherwise dour and harsh face a rakish air.
    Alan FitzOsbert gave a disgusted shake of his head. “You’ll die a castrated man, my friend.” Although his fair hair and gray eyes made Alan the darling of those ladies at court addicted to tales of courtly love, he was so cautious in his behavior that it’d earned him the pet name Priest from his companions. Alan wanted desperately to become a knight Templar, a celibate warrior.