Medieval 01 - Untamed

not very well known at all. The sound of Dominic’s voice at a distance set her heart to racing. The sight of him striding into a room shortened her breath. The simplest touch of his hand sent pleasurable chills over her skin. Remembering how he had caressed her in the bathing room made a liquid heat coil deep within her body.
    Meg’s only satisfaction—and it was a paltry one—was that Dominic himself had not been unaffected. She suspected he did not trust his own formidable self-control any longer where she was concerned.
    Have you bled yet?
    No .
    Tell me when you do, small falcon. Then we shall fly together—and not before .
    Dominic’s decree angered Meg. It was bad enough that he didn’t trust her not to be breeding Duncan’s bastard. It was unbearable to be wanted simply forthe fruit of her womb rather than for her laughter and her companionship, her warmth and her wit, her silences and her hopes. She had so much more to share with Dominic than a future heir.
    Yet even as Meg dreamed of being able to seduce Dominic from his discipline, she feared the cost if she should quicken and not be able to convince Dominic that the babe was his.
    He did not love her.
    Nor did gossip encourage trust. The countryside was alive with whispers about Duncan and Lady Margaret, lovers destined for one another but separated by a harsh Norman master. No matter how emphatically Meg denied any liaison with Duncan to every person she met, no matter how she praised her Norman husband, the gossip persisted.
    Meg prayed that Dominic hadn’t heard the whisperings, yet she knew he must have. Little that happened in and around Blackthorne Keep escaped his attention. The servants could attest to his keen eye. The keep glistened with its recent cleaning. From every floor rose the fragrance of rushes and herbs freshly laid. The spices he had brought from the East scented the air around the kitchen, making the end of winter’s stores smell like a feast.
    But it was the contents of the treasure chests that fascinated most men. Each time Meg appeared with golden bells chiming and gems glittering in her hair, everyone within hearing stopped what they were doing and stared.
    With mixed feelings of pleasure and frustration, Meg looked at Dominic’s latest present to her. It was an extraordinary pin of gold and emeralds in a fanciful design that somehow evoked a falcon riding the wind. Larger than her hand, set with countless perfect emeralds, the pin secured a mantle of scarlet wool whose floral designs were emblazoned incostly gold thread. Tiny golden bells had been sewn into the design. When she walked or turned or sat, delicate music followed each movement.
    Small falcon with emerald eyes and jesses of gold. Wear this and think of me, of healing the land .
    Of sons .
    â€œMistress?” Eadith called. “Where are you?”
    Startled, Meg whirled around. Bells trembled and chimed, marking her sudden motion.
    â€œIn the chapel,” Meg said.
    She stood as Eadith came into the small room which occupied the third floor of a corner tower.
    â€œWhat is it?” Meg said.
    â€œYour lord wonders if you would like to go hunting.”
    â€œAye! When?”
    â€œAfter dinner.”
    Meg looked at the angle of the sunlight slanting into the chapel. Almost noon. She had little time to change.
    â€œQuickly, then,” Meg said.
    In a flurry of golden music, Meg raced up the winding stairs to her quarters, followed by a grumbling Eadith. But complaining or not, the handmaiden’s fingers were quick about their work. Before the noon bells rang, Meg was seated in the great hall, surrounded by knights whose falcons waited on perches along the wall behind the knights’ chairs. The perch behind Dominic’s chair was empty.
    â€œDid my lord decide not to bring his peregrine to table?” Meg asked Simon, who was seated to the left of the empty chair Dominic would occupy.
    â€œNo. Something about the jesses had to be changed. He should be here soon.”
    â€œIs she calm?” Meg persisted.
    â€œAye,” Simon said with clear satisfaction. “Fatima rides her master’s wrist with great assurance. She is a queen among peregrines. By summer’s end she will bring many fat ducks to our plates.”
    A snarl came from beneath the table, followed by a flurry of yips.
    â€œBaron!” Meg said clearly, not bothering to look. “Stop tormenting Leaper.”
    A