“They will. And, until they do, they know you are important to me.”
Color crept into her cheeks. “You mean they know we, ah…”
“Made love?”
“Yes.”
“Nay, sweetling. They do not, although I fear ’twill not remain a secret for very long.”
“Then why would they think I’m important to you, if they don’t know?”
He tucked a lock of sleep-snarled hair behind her ear. “Word of the embrace we shared last night in the bailey will have spread to every ear ere you have broken your fast.”
“It was just a hug.”
He raised her hand to his lips for a tender kiss. “Men and women of my time do not express affection so freely in the presence of others.”
She snorted. “I beg to differ. A couple of nights ago on my way to the garderobe, I heard moaning coming from the shadows and—”
“Let me rephrase that,” he hastened to interrupt. “Men and women of the nobility do not express affection for each other so freely. Even husbands and wives share only the most innocent of touches when not alone.”
“Oh.” A moment passed. “Does that mean your brother and his wife don’t touch in public?”
He laughed. “They are an exception. Dillon has great difficulty keeping his hands off his sweet wife and has raised many an eyebrow—as well as inspired a number of tart criticisms and jealous murmurs from the women—with his open pursuit of her. Their circumstances are a bit different, however.” The two were wed. And both were feared by so many that none would dare to openly criticize them.
Beth’s brow puckered. “Should I not have hugged you like that last night, Robert?”
“What?”
“You said everyone is going to be talking about it, and that things are different with Dillon and Alyssa. I thought maybe you were trying to tell me that you didn’t like it, or that I shouldn’t do it again because—”
“Do it again,” he inserted.
“What?”
Leaning forward, he pressed a warm kiss to her lips. “Do it again,” he repeated softly. “I care not who approves or disapproves. Were I to receive such a greeting each time I returned home, I would forever be a happy man.” While he thought it best to keep the people of Fosterly from knowing he had bedded her, he found himself unwilling to forgo all of her gestures of affection. He craved them too much.
“In that case,” she murmured with a smile, “’twill be my pleasure.”
He rewarded her with a longer, deeper, heat-inducing kiss that left them both groaning in frustration when he forced himself to pull away. “I must go.”
She nodded, clinging to his hand a moment longer before releasing him. “Be careful.”
“And you as well.” Rising, he adopted a stern expression and pointed an authoritative finger at her. “Do not slay any of my people whilst I am away, my fair warrioress.”
She responded with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “All right. If you insist.”
Chuckling, he pulled the tapestry aside and slipped back to his room.
Chapter Thirteen
As it turned out, Robert had exaggerated the ease with which Beth would begin her new life at Fosterly. She didn’t think he had done it on purpose. His expectations regarding his servants just didn’t pan out the way he had said they would.
Not that it really surprised Beth.
Robert seemed to have sincerely believed the servants would accede to Beth’s wishes and carry out her requests without questioning them or giving her a hard time.
Unfortunately, that ended up being quite a miscalculation.
After Robert’s departure, she rested for a couple of hours to make up for a sleepless night of lovemaking.
No complaints there.
Then, wanting to make a good impression on the people of Fosterly, she carefully donned more of Alyssa’s clothing.
There were two parts to the gown, if that’s what it was called. The first was a fairly shapeless, cream-colored dress that was shaped like a great big T. Beth pulled that on over her head, glad it was shapeless or she wouldn’t have been able to tug it down over her shoulders and hips. (She had taken the stretchy materials of the twenty-first century too much for granted.)
Next came a rust-colored kirtle decorated with elaborate hand-stitched, cream-colored embroidery. The sleeves fit fairly tight until halfway down her forearm, then widened dramatically, falling almost to the floor. The kirtle laced up the back like the others she had worn, necessitating the help of a maid she flagged down outside her door. The hem fell to the tops of her boots. A gold belt looped around her waist and hung low on her hips.
Though the overall effect was pretty, it really just made her miss her comfy jeans and tank tops.