Stuart, Elizabeth by Bride of the Lion

Author:Bride of the Lion
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-03-25T04:19:02+00:00

Seventeen

"Madam, your bath is ready."

Jocelyn stepped forward and lifted her arms, allowing the maidservant to untie the side lacings of her bliaut, to lift it over her head along with her tunic and chemise.

"I'll brush and clean these as best I can. The mud'll be easy, but the stains may well be set."

"Thank you, Alison. Just do what you can."

The girl left with the clothing and Jocelyn moved toward the tub, shivering. She had gone instinctively to the bedchamber she and Adelise had once shared, not daring to trespass in the lord's chambers. The room had been closed and icy, but it hadn't taken long to get a fire blazing in the hearth, to have a bed made up and colorful hangings back on the walls.

Jocelyn eased into the steaming water and sank down, relishing the soothing liquid warmth that rose up about her. Thank God for hot water and the power to order it whenever she chose. This was the first time she'd been warm in the whole of two days.

She frowned. That wasn't entirely true. She'd been much too warm outside in the bailey when her husband had kissed her. It had been a quick kiss, a kiss any husband might give his wife in public. Still it had been hot and possessive, branding her senses and shattering her resolutions. She hadn't been expecting it, hadn't had the chance to steel herself against its effects. And it had made her realize just how difficult it would be to live with a man like Robert de Langley and hold onto even the tiniest shreds of her pride.

She picked up a cloth and began to wash her body, evaluating her nakedness in a way she'd never done. Just what would her husband think when he decided to take her to bed? Her flesh was creamy white, smooth and supple to the touch. Her waist was appropriately narrow, but her hips and breasts curved out more generously than was desirable for any highborn lady with pretensions to beauty.

Jocelyn frowned at the firm, round fullness of her breasts. She'd heard some women bound their chests for the slim silhouette that was so desired and had always laughed at such vanity.

She wasn't laughing now. If she had thought she could get away with it, she'd have done it in an instant. However, bindings wouldn't help when she needed help most, when she met Robert de Langley without benefit of any concealing cloth between them.

But then the lord of Belavoir didn't seem in any hurry to find out what he'd gotten. She should be thankful, she knew, that she would have time to prepare herself to meet him with all the poise and self-possession a man looked for in his lady. That quick kiss had nearly destroyed her, while he had turned away, laughing with the crowd, forgetting his wife as he was drawn into the affairs awaiting him at Belavoir.

She would just have to do the same. She would manage Belavoir and see to her husband's comfort just as she had seen to her father's.

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