Medieval 01 - Untamed

voice told Meg that he, too, remembered the intimacy of the bath.
    â€œDuncan has never seen beauty in me,” Meg said huskily. “Not as you have.”
    For a vivid instant Dominic remembered just how much of her beauty he had seen. With a wrench he pushed the image of her open thighs from his mind.
    Deliberately he turned away from Meg and signaled for the meal to be served. When he turned back to her, his mind—if not his unruly body—was under control once more.
    â€œThat’s not what everyone says,” Dominic said coolly. “Each day that goes by, more gossip breeds about your lover waiting for you where the forest gives way to the northern fens.”
    â€œI can’t control wagging tongues,” Meg said in a tight voice.
    With a shrug, Dominic reached for his mug of ale. “So long as gossip is all that’s breeding, it matters little.”
    â€œIs it so hard for you to believe in my honor?” Meg demanded.
    Dominic’s hand paused in the act of lifting the mug.
    â€œHonor is many things to many people,” he said after a moment. “In Jerusalem, God’s honor demanded that Turks die. For the Turks, God’s honor insisted that infidels die. In England, honor demands fealty to king. In the northern marches, honor requires that the king of England be denied. I do not know what Glendruid honor requires beyond that you do not use your healing skills to kill.”
    â€œIt requires healing,” Meg said succinctly. “Betraying your trust in my fidelity is hardly a healing thing.”
    â€œFor me, no. But for Duncan? Ah, that is a different matter. Nay,” Dominic said abruptly when Meg would have spoken. “Don’t ply me with soothing words, wife. ’Tis not words that matter, but deeds.”
    â€œTruly? Then why does gossip trouble you?” she asked. “It is but words.”
    â€œDescribing deeds—”
    â€œWhich never occurred,” she shot back.
    â€œI hope you are right. But hope, too, is merely a word.”
    The fish course arrived, interrupting the conversation. In silence Dominic applied himself to the boiled eel and its savory broth. The same silence prevailed through the fowl course. The pigeons were lean but decently spiced and quite brown from the spit. Dominic ate two of the birds with the same precision and restraint he did everything else.
    Rather grimly Meg wondered if Dominic ever slipped the leash on his self-discipline, or if he was truly as cold as he seemed. No sooner had the thought come than she remembered his expression when he had stood between her thighs in the bath. His face had been drawn with the same passion that had made a shudder run visibly through him when his blunt, aroused flesh had first probed against her sultry gate.
    Heat flushed Meg at the memory. She reached for her ale and drank quickly, hoping to cool the uncanny fires Dominic had lighted within her.
    Beside her, Dominic lowered his own mug to the table with a thump and turned to his brother.
    â€œWhat news, Simon?”
    â€œThe same. The Reevers are prowling through your estates like the wolves they are. When we come upon them, they vanish. When we turn our backs, they reappear.”
    Though Simon spoke softly, Meg heard him above the genial clamor of the meal. Her breath tightened in her throat until she ached.
    She still dreamed, and she still awoke chilled and sweating at the same instant.
    â€œGod’s teeth,” Dominic muttered. “Duncan will get naught for his trouble but hunted down like a wolf and slain. He seemed a wiser man than that.”
    â€œHe is a bastard,” Simon said matter-of-factly. “He will do what he must to get land. Obviously he has spies here. He knows your knights haven’t yet arrived. That’s why he is so bold.”
    â€œAye,” Dominic said grimly. “What news did Sven have from the south?”
    â€œTen days or more before the rest of your knights and your riding household arrives. The storms have been severe.”
    â€œGod’s teeth . Had I known, I would have waited to marry.”
    Simon smiled thinly. “I doubt that, brother. It was rumors of Duncan that spurred you north in the first place.”
    A platter of whole roasted pig appeared in front of Dominic before he could answer. The boar was winter-lean and old, but the kitchen had done its best. The ears were nicely burnt yet still intact, and the skin was a deep brown,