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The Black Lyon

The Black Lyon

Titel: The Black Lyon Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Jude Deveraux
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time ended in such misfortune,” she said, putting her hand over her mouth, “that my father never again allowed me near when my mother helped with the bathing.”
    Ranulf sat down on a stool near the fire. He tried to keep his mind from her transparent dress, her eyes sparkling in amusement. He was acutely aware that they were alone in the quiet little room. He knew he should dress and go to his men, but he could not. He could not yet cover his skin where she had touched him.
    “I would hear this story.”
    “It was in this very room when I was but ten and two.”
    “A great time ago, I am sure.”
    She ignored his sarcasm with dignity. “An old knight came to visit my father, and I thought him to be a silly man who often asked me to sit upon his knee.” She did not see Ranulf’s frown. “He wore a beret with a great red feather that curled about the top of his head and moved when he talked, which he did continuously.
    “I often came in here to play and escape him. One morn I brought my new tiercel with me and also my puppy. We played for awhile, but then Lucy called me to help her at some task, I left my hawk and puppy behind. When I returned, my mother was here helping the old man to bathe. I did not see my animals, but thought my mother had shooed them from the room.
    “Below stairs, Gressy and the cook began a terrible battle and my mother left the room, telling me to finish the bath.”
    “Just as today,” Ranulf added.
    She looked at his near-nude body, the power and strength of it obvious, leashed for this moment only, and thought there was little resemblance between the two men.
    “Everything happened at once. I walked to the fire for a moment and the old knight jumped from the tub and started to pull on his braies. He made a lunge for me, the tie string broke, the breeches fell to his ankles and he tripped on them, landing face down on the rushes. My hawk screamed and my puppy ran from the shadows, making a leap for the red-feathered hat that lay on a stool.”
    Lyonene was encouraged by Ranulf’s smile, the light in his eyes.
    “What happened then? I hope you ran for your mother.”
    “Nay. I could not, for I fear I began to laugh. The door burst open with my father yelling that I was not to be left alone with any man, but then he stopped, for there was the old knight lying face down in a pool of water, the tiercel flying round and round his head and my puppy perched on his skinny behind, tail wagging and a broken red feather dangling from his mouth.”
    Ranulf began to laugh, an almost forgotten occurrence. “I can just see him!”
    “He kept screaming that he was attacked by demons, hundreds of demons.”
    They both laughed together at the conjured picture. “I am sure your laughter did not help the poor man’s temper. I hope your father made you apologize.”
    “Nay, he did not,” she laughed. “He said naught to me, but carried me to my room.”
    “Carried you!” Ranulf wiped a tear from his eye.
    “Aye,” Lyonene gasped, dissolving again. “I was laughing so hard I fell to the floor; I could not walk.”
    Melite quietly opened the door. She was greeted by a wet Lyonene and a nearly nude Ranulf crying with laughter. Lyonene looked up to see her mother smiling at them. “I was telling the story of the old knight with the great red feather.”
    Melite came closer, laughter twitching the corners of her mouth. “My daughter knows not the whole story. After her father carried her to her room,” she continued, looking in mock reproach at Lyonene, “the old knight refused to stay a moment longer at Lorancourt, so William and I solemnly helped him pack his bags and saddle his horse, but we dared neither look at the other nor mention the happening in this room. Just as the man mounted his horse, the tie to his hose broke and it fell about his ankle. William and I, it is shame to say, fell together in laughter as helpless as Lyonene’s. The man rode off screaming at us that he was going to London to sue us. We never heard from him again.”
    Melite’s added story brought new peals of laughter, and the three of them laughed until their sides ached.
    It was Melite who reminded them that it was time for supper and that their guest needed to dress.
    Clothed again in perfectly tailored hose, a tunic and tabard, Ranulf prepared to leave the room. Melite went ahead of him to find servants, and Ranulf had a few seconds alone with Lyonene. “I have never enjoyed a bath so much as this

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