The Troubadour's Romance by Robyn Carr

Author:Robyn Carr [Carr, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Fiction, Historical, General, Usernet, C429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9780671617080
Google: 66Q_PQAACAAJ
Amazon: B00ADUIYOG
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1987-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

***

Royce had ridden hard the day long, avoiding the town and hall. He deposited at the back of the hall the game he’d killed on his ride and instructed Daria to see it cleaned and roasted, then took his horse to the stables to tend him. He encountered Sir Trumble there and gathered the gossip of the day, the most exciting of which was that his tender bride had, in a flaming wrath, banished a priest from the town.

“What was she doing in the village?” Royce asked.

“Judging the needs of the people, it is said,” Trumble replied.

“She could not leave that to me?” he asked.

Trumble shrugged, looking somewhat pleased. “Whatever, Royce, when she encountered the priest and judged his greed to harm the peasants, she drove him away.” Trumble laughed, a low rumbling in his throat. “Be warned, he promised your lady will burn in hell.”

“She did this alone?”

“Nay, Royce. Her brother and some of your men were called for. But I have little doubt she’d have whipped the friar herself had no guard appeared. I have not seen a woman’s anger reach that height since Eleanor was taken to her prison.” Then, still laughing, Trumble left Royce in the stable.

Through the maintenance of his destrier and equipment, Royce seethed. She did not ask his advice, rely on his counsel, wait for his command, or defer to his higher authority. She could have made the acquaintance of the priest, judged his behavior, and brought the matter to Royce’s attention. But instead, with her mighty brothers in tow, she took control of the hall, town, and people and did her will.

He stripped off his gamberson and used the water in the stable for washing, sorely vexed by this recent custom as well. He hoped to avoid being caught in any state of undress in his own hall lest someone take notice of his mark and ridicule him. He had already decided that when the Scelfton knights finally departed and he felt at last the ruler of his own demesne, he would use his chamber for his baths--and he hoped that the time would come soon. Until they were gone, he feared some word of his deformity would give them the excuse they desired to take their sister away. The cold water and the mean condition of the stable only heightened his ire.

He heard the stable door close and he whirled around to face the intruder. Felise stood several paces away from him, just inside the door. “I have looked for you the day long, messire,” she said.

Droplets of water fell from his hair and dripped off his beard onto his bare chest. Donned in only chausses and soft leather boots, he reached for the linen that hung over a stall. “How long have you been there?” he asked almost angrily.

“I’ve just come. I didn’t mean to startle you, but I asked after you and Sir Trumble said you were here.”

He grabbed his gamberson and pulled it over his wet body. “And so you find me.

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