Medieval 01 - Untamed

seen.”
    â€œDo you jest?” Meg asked, startled.
    â€œNo, lady. Look straight ahead, please, else the hem will be crooked.”
    â€œYou could see through the cloth? Truly?”
    Marie’s smile flashed. “Truly.”
    â€œAstonishing.”
    â€œTo the English, perhaps. To the Turks, it was accepted. And,” Marie added slyly, “much appreciated by the men.”
    â€œHave you worn such clothes?”
    â€œBut of course. Your husband found them particularly attractive.”
    Meg jerked.
    With a muttered phrase in Turkish, Marie went back to fussing over the hem.
    â€œYou Saxons,” Marie said after a moment, shaking her head. “A man’s desire to possess a wife, that I can understand. He wants to be certain he will raise only his own children. But a possessive wife…”
    Marie shrugged, checked the length of thread on the needle, and resumed stitching.
    â€œOnce married, there is no divorce for a Christian,” Marie continued, “therefore no need for jealousy. You have Dominic’s protection, title, and wealth for the rest of your life. What else of worth remains of him to possess?”
    â€œHis affection. His respect. His…love.”
    â€œGold and jewels last longer,” Marie said. “They can be sold for food and clothing when war or famine comes. Affection is amusing for a time, but it is as fickle as the wind. As for love, it is a fancy of the mind, nothing more.”
    Marie knotted the thread and severed it with a quick flash of her teeth.
    â€œThere,” she said, satisfied. “It hangs as it should now.”
    She stood with the grace of a woman accustomed to sitting on pillows scattered across the floor rather than on chairs. Deft fingers flew as she began unlacing the closely fitted dress.
    â€œMarie.”
    â€œYes, lady?”
    â€œSave your sexual wiles for the garrison,” Meg said bluntly. “Don’t use them on my husband. Whether you succeed or fail, you shall rue the attempt.”
    There was a moment of surprised silence before Marie laughed out loud.
    â€œI can see why he calls you his small falcon,” she said. “Step out of the dress, lady.”
    Meg did so and then waited, watching with eyes that were frankly predatory while Marie carefully put the dress into a wardrobe.
    â€œMarie?”
    â€œAs you wish,” she said calmly, turning back to Meg. “But you must know that what you wish holds true only so long as your master wishes it, too.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    For the space of a breath, Marie looked at Meg with something close to compassion.
    â€œHow you could have reached nineteen and be so innocent…” Marie sighed heavily and explained. “Dominic is wooing you most carefully. While he does, he looks not at me. When that changes—and it will, for he is but a man—then I will go to his bed for as long as he wants me. He is master in this keep, not I. Nor are you, my lady. No woman is.”
    Marie picked up the small sewing basket. “Is there anything else you wish?”
    â€œNo.”
    After a slight nod of her head, Marie walked from the room. With each step her hips swayed like a candle flame in a draft.
    Meg let out a pent-up breath and a few words that would have drawn a horrified look from the good father. The worst part of it was that Marie was correct. If Dominic chose to favor his leman over his wife, there was little Meg could do about it.
    She can’t give him legitimate heirs. Only I can do that .
    Yet Meg wasn’t certain she could. When all was said and done, it seemed that few Glendruid women were fertile.
    Frowning, Meg threw a mantle about her shoulders and headed for the bathing room. The oddly pointed cloth slippers Dominic had given her whispered over the floor and gleamed metallically in theillumination from lamps. The fragrant oil in the lamps offset the damp, cold smell of the keep’s stone walls. Since Dominic’s arrival, the keep had begun to shine like a butterfly recently released from its chrysalis.
    â€œThere you are,” Eadith said. “I thought you had displeased your lord and been confined to your rooms again.”
    Meg smiled rather grimly. “I’ve been confined to green silk while Marie fusses over the hem.”
    â€œAh, the leman. Dominic promised her silk of her own if she made you a dress that pleases him.”
    The enjoyment Meg had taken in the