Read Online Earth Song by Catherine Coulter - Free Book Online Page A

vastly relieving as well. He loosened his grip on her wrist and pressed her hand palm-down against his thigh. Her eyes flew to his face, but she didn’t move.
    â€œI have decided to give you a choice, lady,” Dienwald said.
    Philippa wasn’t at all certain she wanted to hear of any choices from him.
    â€œNot a word? I don’t believe it.” He paused a moment, cocking a brow at her. She remained silent.
    â€œYou tell me your father won’t ransom you. You also refuse to tell me the name of your unpleasant suitor. You balk at telling me the name of this cousin you were running to. Very well, if you aren’t able to bring me pounds and shillings and pence, the very least you can do is repay my hospitality on your back. It is doubtful, but perhaps I’ll find you acceptable in that role, at least for a limited time.”
    She’d been right: she hadn’t wanted to hear his choices.
    â€œYou don’t care for the thought of me covering you?”
    Surely a man who allowed children, dogs, and a chicken to follow him about couldn’t be all that bad. There were still no words in her mind.
    â€œWrapping those long white legs of yours around my flanks? They’re so long, mayhap they’ll go around me twice. And plucking your virginity? Doesn’t that give you visions of delirious pleasure?”
    â€œActually,” she said, looking out over the noisy great hall at all the men and women who sat at the trestle tables eating their fill, laughing, jesting, arguing, “no.”
    â€œNo, what?”
    Philippa reached for a capon wing with her left hand and took a thoughtful bite. She couldn’t let him see that he’d stunned her, demolished her confidence, and made her nearly frantic with consternation. Wrapping her legs around his flanks? Plucking her . . . Philippa wanted to gasp, but she didn’t; she took another bite of her capon wing. Dienwald was so surprised at her nonchalance, her utter indifference, that he released her wrist. She shook her hand to get the feeling back,then reached for another piece of capon. Before she brought it to her mouth, she dipped it deep in the ginger-and-cinnamon sauce.
    Dienwald stared at her profile. More thick tendrils had worked loose from her braid, a braid as thick as Edmund’s ankle, and curled around her face.
    She turned back to him finally, dipping her fingers into the small wooden bowl of water between their places. “ ‘Tis very good, the capon. I like the ginger. No, my father won’t ransom me. I should have lied and told you he would, but again, I didn’t think, I just spoke.”
    â€œTrue. Your point, lady?”
    â€œI don’t want to be your mistress. I don’t want to be any man’s mistress.”
    â€œThat won’t be up to you to decide. You are a woman.”
    â€œThat is a problem I share with half the world. What will you decide, then?”
    â€œMust you persist in your picking and harping? Must you nag me with questions until I am forced to put my dagger point to your white neck?”
    â€œNay, but—”
    â€œSwallow your tongue! I shall have the name of your betrothed, and I shall have it soon. I will even demand less ransom if he will have you back.”
    â€œNo!”
    Dienwald picked up her long braid and wrapped it around his hand, drawing her face close to his. “Listen, wench—”
    â€œI am not a wench. My name is Philippa de—”
    â€œYou will do my bidding in all things, no matter you’re the Queen of France. Now, what is the poor crackbrain’s name?”
    Philippa swallowed. She smelled the tart ale on his breath, felt its warmth on her temple. His eyes were darker, the flecks of gold more prominent. “I won’t tell you.”
    â€œI think you will. You lack proper submissiveness and obedience. You need training, as I told you earlier. I think I should begin your lessons right