children. He was fond of saying all cats were alike in the dark,” Alette said. She thought a long moment, and then shook her head. “Nay, he never said I was pretty, my lord.”
“Lady, I have not a great deal but my position, which I oweto the kindness of my friend, Hugh, but I should like to court you,” Rolf told the startled woman. “We are of an age, and not related by blood. I can see no impediment to it, can you?”
“My lord, you flatter me beyond all words, but you would but waste your time. I do not mean to wed again,” Alette said softly. Her heart was beating rapidly, as if she were a young girl with her first suitor. Robert de Manneville had certainly never been so courteous in his pursuit of her. Rolf de Briard wanted to court her.
“Why will you not marry again, lady?” he questioned her.
“As a widow, my lord, I have far more personal freedom than I would as a wife. A wife, in my opinion, has little more liberty than a serf. My daughter has little respect for me. I believe her reluctance to take Sir Hugh as her husband stems from seeing my plight as her father’s wife. A husband may beat his wife, mistreat her, flaunt his mistress in her face. All this she must accept without complaint. I have been happier than I have ever been in my entire life since my husband went on crusade. While I mourn his passing, for I am not an unfeeling woman, I rejoice in the fact that he will not return to hurt me ever again. He showed more kindness to his dogs than he ever did to me.”
“I am not Robert de Manneville, lady,” Rolf told her. “I should cherish you and love you all my days if you would one day accept me for your husband.” Reaching out, he took her hand and, bringing it to his lips, kissed it. Then he turned her hand over, pressing his mouth hotly first against the inside of her wrist, and then her palm.
She shivered, and when their eyes met, Alette was almost overwhelmed by the look of deep passion in his brown eyes. She could not speak.
“Let me court you,” he said, his voice low, personal, and very intense. “Let me show you that not all men are cruel and unkind, sweet lady. If when you have gotten to know me you are still of the same opinion you hold now, I shall endeavor to understand, but give me a chance to prove otherwise to you.”
“You are most persuasive, sir,” she replied breathlessly. She had never felt this way before. Robert had certainly never looked at her with such deep feeling in his eyes, and in his voice. When he had met her for the first time, he told her quite firmly that her uncle had given him permission to marry her. There had never been any talk of love. Of courting . He would condescend to take this orphan girl with her tiny dowry off her uncle’s hands, and she would mother his children in return. It was a business arrangement, and nothing more.
“Will you let me be your knight, lady?” Rolf said softly.
“Perhaps a little while,” she answered him, finally able to find her voice, “but, sir, I make you no promises.”
“I understand,” Rolf replied, his heart soaring. He would prove to Alette that not all men were cruel and thoughtless to their ladies. Eventually he would show her that he was worthy to be her husband. Had not that brute, Robert de Manneville, understood what a precious possession Alette was? He was a fool, then!
She rose from her seat. “It is late, sir,” she said.
“I will escort you to your chamber, my lady,” he replied, standing.
The hall emptied, but for Hugh and Isabelle, bent in serious concentration over their chessboard. While she had won the first game, it had been mainly because he had underestimated her skill. Her respect for him began to grow grudgingly when she realized that, and saw that he did not intend to allow her a second victory over him if he could possibly help it.
He was not like any man she had ever known. While she had loved her father, who was indulgent of her, she had hid her fear of him,
“Lady, I have not a great deal but my position, which I oweto the kindness of my friend, Hugh, but I should like to court you,” Rolf told the startled woman. “We are of an age, and not related by blood. I can see no impediment to it, can you?”
“My lord, you flatter me beyond all words, but you would but waste your time. I do not mean to wed again,” Alette said softly. Her heart was beating rapidly, as if she were a young girl with her first suitor. Robert de Manneville had certainly never been so courteous in his pursuit of her. Rolf de Briard wanted to court her.
“Why will you not marry again, lady?” he questioned her.
“As a widow, my lord, I have far more personal freedom than I would as a wife. A wife, in my opinion, has little more liberty than a serf. My daughter has little respect for me. I believe her reluctance to take Sir Hugh as her husband stems from seeing my plight as her father’s wife. A husband may beat his wife, mistreat her, flaunt his mistress in her face. All this she must accept without complaint. I have been happier than I have ever been in my entire life since my husband went on crusade. While I mourn his passing, for I am not an unfeeling woman, I rejoice in the fact that he will not return to hurt me ever again. He showed more kindness to his dogs than he ever did to me.”
“I am not Robert de Manneville, lady,” Rolf told her. “I should cherish you and love you all my days if you would one day accept me for your husband.” Reaching out, he took her hand and, bringing it to his lips, kissed it. Then he turned her hand over, pressing his mouth hotly first against the inside of her wrist, and then her palm.
She shivered, and when their eyes met, Alette was almost overwhelmed by the look of deep passion in his brown eyes. She could not speak.
“Let me court you,” he said, his voice low, personal, and very intense. “Let me show you that not all men are cruel and unkind, sweet lady. If when you have gotten to know me you are still of the same opinion you hold now, I shall endeavor to understand, but give me a chance to prove otherwise to you.”
“You are most persuasive, sir,” she replied breathlessly. She had never felt this way before. Robert had certainly never looked at her with such deep feeling in his eyes, and in his voice. When he had met her for the first time, he told her quite firmly that her uncle had given him permission to marry her. There had never been any talk of love. Of courting . He would condescend to take this orphan girl with her tiny dowry off her uncle’s hands, and she would mother his children in return. It was a business arrangement, and nothing more.
“Will you let me be your knight, lady?” Rolf said softly.
“Perhaps a little while,” she answered him, finally able to find her voice, “but, sir, I make you no promises.”
“I understand,” Rolf replied, his heart soaring. He would prove to Alette that not all men were cruel and thoughtless to their ladies. Eventually he would show her that he was worthy to be her husband. Had not that brute, Robert de Manneville, understood what a precious possession Alette was? He was a fool, then!
She rose from her seat. “It is late, sir,” she said.
“I will escort you to your chamber, my lady,” he replied, standing.
The hall emptied, but for Hugh and Isabelle, bent in serious concentration over their chessboard. While she had won the first game, it had been mainly because he had underestimated her skill. Her respect for him began to grow grudgingly when she realized that, and saw that he did not intend to allow her a second victory over him if he could possibly help it.
He was not like any man she had ever known. While she had loved her father, who was indulgent of her, she had hid her fear of him,
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