Medieval 01 - Untamed

her thoughts.
    What an extraordinary wench .
    Dominic stroked his closely clipped mustache and black beard as he studied her.
    That hair. Gold and red and russet. It makes her skin look like particularly fine cream. I wonder whom I must pay to have her in my bed. Father, brother, uncle?
    Or husband …
    Dominic frowned. The thought of the wench being married didn’t appeal. The last thing he wanted to do was give the Norman-hating vassals of Blackthorne Keep an excuse to cry off the bargain King Henry had forced. The Scots thanes and minor Saxon nobility might mount all the local wenches at will, married or no; but let a Norman touch a local woman against her husband’s desire and the complaints would be heard all the way to London.
    Is the wench married? That is the question .
    Yet instead of asking about marriage, Dominic asked after the queen of falcons that had been King Henry’s gift to his newest great baron.
    â€œDid my peregrine arrive safely?”
    â€œAye, lord,” William said quickly.
    â€œHow is she?” Dominic asked.
    But it was the girl he spoke to, not the falconer.
    â€œFierce,” Meg said.
    Then she smiled as she realized Dominic had taken her for what she appeared to be, a common maid. Relief, amusement, and a curiosity about the darkknight made Meg decide to stay rather than flee as she had first thought to do.
    â€œLife pours through her like a torrent of fire,” Meg said. “She will repay well the man who takes the time to gentle her.”
    A shaft of desire went through Dominic, startling him. He wasn’t a boy to harden at a girl’s smile and double-edged words. Yet he had done just that, undeniably. Were it not for the fall of his side-fastened cape, his instant response would be visible for all to see.
    â€œStay by me while I visit her,” Dominic commanded.
    There was naked demand rather than polite request in his voice. Meg barely stifled her instant irritation and the unease that grew greater with each moment she was in Dominic’s potent presence.
    Dominic saw Meg’s mixed reactions and was again intrigued. Most girls of her station would have been delighted at any sign of a lord’s attention. Yet he sensed quite clearly that she was getting ready to run from the mews.
    â€œA man’s first moments with a new falcon are critical,” Dominic said. “I want her to accept me without hurting herself by trying to flee when no flight is necessary.”
    â€œOr possible,” Meg muttered beneath her breath.
    â€œExactly.”
    Dominic noted the tiny tightening of Meg’s mouth and the slight widening of her eyes in surprise at being overheard. He read other people with the ease of a farmer reading the seasons or a priest reading the Bible. The smile he gave her would have been taken by most people as a sign of reassurance.
    But Meg saw through Dominic’s gentle smile to the calculation beneath.
    â€œHave no fear,” she said crisply. “The falcon ishooded. A sightless falcon flies nowhere. She awaits your gentling.”
    â€œWill you help me, lady falconer?”
    â€œI am…Meg.”
    â€œLord Dominic le Sabre,” he said.
    â€œI suspected as much.”
    Again, Dominic smiled slightly, enjoying the wry edge of the maiden’s tongue.
    Meg tried not to smile in return. She failed. It was impossible not to soften, for his flash of amusement had been real rather than calculated.
    Dominic’s smile widened as he read Meg’s answer in the relaxation of her body. No longer was she poised to flee.
    â€œThen come with me, maid Meg. William will see to your honor. Or have you a husband to stand for you?”
    The falconer began coughing fit to choke. Meg whacked him soundly between the shoulder blades and prayed that he wouldn’t give away the game. She suspected that her future husband would be more relaxed with a cotter’s wench than he would be with his unwilling Saxon bride.
    â€œThere, William. Are you better or should I thump some more?” As Meg bent solicitously to the falconer, she whispered, “Enough, William! If you can’t keep me secret, I’ll go to the peregrine without you!”
    The falconer cleared his throat heartily and pulled his mouth into a flat line as though he would never smile again. Instantly the line fractured into laughter. He clapped his hand over his mouth and made strangling sounds.
    â€œI think we should leave the