Read Online Bride of the Tower by Sharon Schulze - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sharon Schulze
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of the many strange dreams of Robin of the Hood, Maid Marian and Robin’s band of outlaws that had haunted his restless sleep.
As had Lady Julianna d’Arcy.
He remembered his lovely savior—or captor, he really wasn’t certain precisely which she was—as well. She had haunted his dreams, too; she’d unquestionably inspired the tempting enchantress he’d encountered in some of his other imaginings.
Dreams, and feelings, he wished he could remember more completely.
He closed his eyes and concentrated. Bits of them were etched upon his memory so deeply that he’d likely remember them until his dying day, mental sensations so vivid they might have been recollections of reality, so vibrant the passage of decades could not erase their intensity.
They’d seemed quite real at the time, but he knew they were not.
His lips twisted into a grin, making him aware that his mouth felt bone dry and tasted hideous. ’Twas a good thing he’d not really be kissing Lady Julianna—or doing any of the other delightfulthings they’d done in his imagination. If knowledge of his wicked desires didn’t send her reeling from shock, the stench of his breath would have been apt to do so.
He doubted the rest of him smelled much better, either—though he could have sworn that somewhere in his disjointed thoughts was the memory of someone bathing him. Cool, soothing hands—had they been hers?
Of course, if Lady Julianna ever suspected the captivating role his fevered imagination had cast her in, she’d likely whip his dagger from her boot and gut him—or worse!—with his own blade.
He’d deserve it, too, for thinking of a noble lady in such a way.
Ah, but noble ladies did feel desire…and act upon it, as well. He’d learned that soon enough once he’d left l’Eau Clair and come into the milieu of ladies who hadn’t known him since he was an obnoxious freeman’s son playing alongside them in the dirt. Will’s first sojourn at Court with Lord Rannulf had amazed him, opening his eyes to the veritable feast of women willing to play any erotic game he chose.
As well as some he hadn’t, he recalled with a shudder. He’d learned to be more discerning, afterseveral narrow escapes from those women who were naught but insatiable harpies looking to snare a new, naive victim for their depraved entertainment.
Now there was a thought to avoid! He’d no desire to taint the memory of the sweet taste of Lady Julianna’s lips—a real memory, that, brief but unforgettable. Nor did he wish to travel, even in memory, down that twisted road again.
Though he’d paid her small heed, he had been hazily aware of the small woman sitting by the small window, her quavery voice providing a faint background to his thoughts. He’d no sooner realized she’d stopped singing than she popped up from her seat and bustled to his side. Her wide smile revealed a surprisingly complete set of teeth for one so old. As she reached him, her faded-blue eyes seemed to disappear into her wrinkled face as she bent and, squinting, peered down at him.
“So you’ve decided to rejoin the land of the living, have you?” she asked, her hands busy smoothing the tangled coverlet and adjusting it over him as she spoke. Her smile undimmed, she gave the soft wool a final pat and drew a low stool close to his pallet. “You gave my mistress a scareindeed, my young sir. ’Tis happy she’ll be to see how you’ve recovered.”
She filled a cup from a pottery jug on a nearby table and offered it to him before she settled herself on the stool. “Here. This special draught will speed your healing.”
Will shifted onto his side and brought the drink to his mouth, only to stop short when he caught a whiff of the foul brew. The old woman shook her head and pushed the cup the rest of the way. “I know it smells as though it comes straight from the cess pit, but ’tis truly a very helpful tonic.” Before he had a chance to oppose her, she reached over and tipped the
As had Lady Julianna d’Arcy.
He remembered his lovely savior—or captor, he really wasn’t certain precisely which she was—as well. She had haunted his dreams, too; she’d unquestionably inspired the tempting enchantress he’d encountered in some of his other imaginings.
Dreams, and feelings, he wished he could remember more completely.
He closed his eyes and concentrated. Bits of them were etched upon his memory so deeply that he’d likely remember them until his dying day, mental sensations so vivid they might have been recollections of reality, so vibrant the passage of decades could not erase their intensity.
They’d seemed quite real at the time, but he knew they were not.
His lips twisted into a grin, making him aware that his mouth felt bone dry and tasted hideous. ’Twas a good thing he’d not really be kissing Lady Julianna—or doing any of the other delightfulthings they’d done in his imagination. If knowledge of his wicked desires didn’t send her reeling from shock, the stench of his breath would have been apt to do so.
He doubted the rest of him smelled much better, either—though he could have sworn that somewhere in his disjointed thoughts was the memory of someone bathing him. Cool, soothing hands—had they been hers?
Of course, if Lady Julianna ever suspected the captivating role his fevered imagination had cast her in, she’d likely whip his dagger from her boot and gut him—or worse!—with his own blade.
He’d deserve it, too, for thinking of a noble lady in such a way.
Ah, but noble ladies did feel desire…and act upon it, as well. He’d learned that soon enough once he’d left l’Eau Clair and come into the milieu of ladies who hadn’t known him since he was an obnoxious freeman’s son playing alongside them in the dirt. Will’s first sojourn at Court with Lord Rannulf had amazed him, opening his eyes to the veritable feast of women willing to play any erotic game he chose.
As well as some he hadn’t, he recalled with a shudder. He’d learned to be more discerning, afterseveral narrow escapes from those women who were naught but insatiable harpies looking to snare a new, naive victim for their depraved entertainment.
Now there was a thought to avoid! He’d no desire to taint the memory of the sweet taste of Lady Julianna’s lips—a real memory, that, brief but unforgettable. Nor did he wish to travel, even in memory, down that twisted road again.
Though he’d paid her small heed, he had been hazily aware of the small woman sitting by the small window, her quavery voice providing a faint background to his thoughts. He’d no sooner realized she’d stopped singing than she popped up from her seat and bustled to his side. Her wide smile revealed a surprisingly complete set of teeth for one so old. As she reached him, her faded-blue eyes seemed to disappear into her wrinkled face as she bent and, squinting, peered down at him.
“So you’ve decided to rejoin the land of the living, have you?” she asked, her hands busy smoothing the tangled coverlet and adjusting it over him as she spoke. Her smile undimmed, she gave the soft wool a final pat and drew a low stool close to his pallet. “You gave my mistress a scareindeed, my young sir. ’Tis happy she’ll be to see how you’ve recovered.”
She filled a cup from a pottery jug on a nearby table and offered it to him before she settled herself on the stool. “Here. This special draught will speed your healing.”
Will shifted onto his side and brought the drink to his mouth, only to stop short when he caught a whiff of the foul brew. The old woman shook her head and pushed the cup the rest of the way. “I know it smells as though it comes straight from the cess pit, but ’tis truly a very helpful tonic.” Before he had a chance to oppose her, she reached over and tipped the
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