Medieval 03 - Enchanted

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marriage. Your sword is far too fine an instrument to suffer
neglect. It deserves to be as I well remember it, hard and gleaming
from careful rubbing.”
    Before Ariane could speak, Simon did.
    “Thomas,” Simon said neutrally.
    “Aye?” Thomas asked, grinning.
    Simon looked at the accomplished whore whose
fingers were even now sliding against his wrist, stroking sensitive
skin as though his hold on her were that of a lover rather than a
man whose impatience was barely leashed. Slowly he smiled down at
her.
    Only Marie was close enough to see that
Simon’s eyeswere black stones that held
neither warmth nor humor.
    “Take your leman elsewhere,” Simon said
gently, “before Ariane decides upon a place to stick that
dagger she is holding.”
    Ariane looked down at her right hand. The
amethyst-studded hilt flashed between her fingers. The blade itself
was bright, gleaming, and obviously sharp.
    She had no memory of drawing the dagger from its
sheath.
    “Perhaps,” Meg said, amused,
“Marie would do well to strike the same bargain with Lady
Ariane that was struck with me.”
    Marie looked at the dagger and then at Ariane.
Surprisingly, Marie laughed.
    “Aye,” Marie agreed. “Perhaps I
should.”
    “What bargain is this?” Dominic and
Simon asked at the same time.
    Marie winked at Dominic, gave Simon a sideways,
remembering kind of look, and turned toward Ariane.
    “I will stop teasing your husband,”
Marie said.
    Stiffly Ariane nodded.
    “But,” Marie said, “I live at the
sufferance of Lord Dominic and his brother. If either of them
desires me, at any time , I am theirs
for as long as I hold their interest.”
    Dominic and Simon exchanged a swift look.
    “It is the nature of men to grow bored with
bedding just one woman,” Marie explained matter-of-factly.
“When Dominic and Simon call for me, neither Glendruid curses
nor jeweled daggers will keep me from their beds. They are master
here, not I. And not you, ladies Margaret and Ariane.”
    “Marie,” Dominic said softly. “At
your husband’s death in the Holy Land, I vowed to keep you
safe until you died. I did not give you leave to bait the ladies of
the keep.”
    Marie curtsied deeply to the two women. “If I
have offended you, I am sorry. I am harem raised and see the world
differently.”
    “Thomas,” Dominic said distinctly.
    “Aye, lord!”
    Thomas stepped forward from his guard position at
the armory door. He was thick as an oak, unimaginative, and
possessed of a genial temperament.
    He also was renowned for his stamina between a
woman’s thighs.
    “Exercise your strength on Marie’s
behalf,” Dominic said to Thomas.
    “Now, lord?”
    “Now.”
    “My pleasure, lord.”
    One of Thomas the Strong’s massive hands
descended on Marie’s rump with a hearty smack. Then he stood
close behind her and squeezed her buttocks with great care.
    Marie’s breath came in with a rush. She
turned slowly toward Thomas, rubbing her soft bottom over him as
she turned. The smile he gave her was that of a man anticipating
what was to come.
    Saying not one word, Thomas lifted Marie with one
thick arm. Smiling, she circled his muscular hips with her legs,
locking herself in place. The position was obviously a familiar one
for both of them, because Thomas started walking away from the
armory without hesitation.
    Marie leaned close, nipped his neck, and put her
clever hands to work on every fastening within her reach.
    Very quickly the two people vanished from sight,
leaving nothing behind but for Marie’s high, oddly sweet
laughter trailing back through the stone passageway. Then, even
that stopped, as though cut off by a man’s kiss.
    “Thank God for Thomas the Strong,”

Dominic said.
    “Amen,” Simon said.
    Simon turned and gave his wife a hooded, enigmatic
glance. He looked her over from head to toe as though examining
something utterly unexpected.
    And he was.
    The fact that Ariane was jealous of Simon was as
startling as anything that had ever happened to him, including the
moment when Ariane had crashed her strong little mare right into a
war stallion on his behalf.
    Ariane had nearly died to save Simon’s
life.
    She had been ready to used her dagger on a leman
who wanted him.
    She melted and ran like rich, sun-warmed honey when
he came to her in her dreams.
    Yet awake, Ariane scorned the ultimate sensual
feast.
    Distantly Simon wondered if any man ever had
understood women.
    Even a Learned man.
    “You may put away the