eyes flew open. "You aren't a servant. Besides, 'tis unseemly."
"I am your sister," she stated flatly. "Can you not see these men are as tired as you are? I, on the other hand, have little to do here but rest and pray." To emphasize her seriousness, she grasped the base of his helmet and removed it with a great deal of effort. It was well-fitted and did not want to come off, but finally succumbed to several twists and jerks.
"By the saints, Lea, but you are rough! Aubery has the hands of a child in comparison!"
"And I'll warrant Aubery has had more experience in such things," she agreed cheerfully. "I had no idea that it was so tight."
" 'Twould do little good if it weren't. If a blow can dislodge it easily, then I would be looking through the nasal or through the side."
"Oh."
She unlaced the sides of his plain surcoat, frowning as she did so. "You have not put your arms on here yet."
"Nay. I rise so fast in the world that I know not what to use there. I once thought to use the white hare, but Henry says I remind him more of a falcon than a hare."
"I should hope so. A hare sounds cowardly." She pulled the garment over his head and discarded it on the floor.
"A device is what one makes of it. I rather like the hare—quick, defensively colored."
"I am for Henry in this. From bastard of Nantes to Lord of Condes sounds like you have soared as the falcon, brother."
"Mayhap only to run like the rabbit, Lea." He closed his eyes to avoid her questioning look.
His mail shirt was of the new style, complete with coif to cover his neck and head. She loosened the fastenings at the shoulder and tried to draw it off. He raised his hands obediently to help.
"Careful. I have sweat so much that Aubery needs to polish it before it rusts."
"I know." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "In fact, you stink."
Hugh and Jean and a retainer she did not know dragged in a heavy oversized copper caldron from the scullery. It was already partially filled with steaming water. The men eyed Eleanor with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. They had little doubt that she'd never even seen a naked man before and were waiting for her reaction. As Hugh and Jean exchanged suggestive looks, Roger caught them and frowned.
"Leave us."
"But, my lord—"
"Take to your own pallets. Lea would have it that I've nearly run all of you to death today."
"But—"
"And I've not a doubt in my mind that her hands are gentler than yours, Hugh. Go on with you, but draw lots for who sleeps by the door."
Aubery hesitated, uncertain whether to suggest impropriety or not. Roger sensed his thoughts. "Nay, as she will tell you often enough, she is my sister. Besides, I have much to discuss with her."
Even as they drew lots for the watch, Eleanor continued divesting Roger of armor and clothing. Beneath the mail shirt he wore a stiffened leather hauberk, and beneath that, a heavily quilted gambeson. As she laid aside that last garment, she shook her head. "I should thank God that it is not July, Roger, else I could not stay in the same room with you. As it is, you are sweat-soaked enough. Look at your undertunic—'tis stuck to the hairs on your chest." The brilliant blue eyes were closed again, but he dutifully raised his arms to help her rid him of the shirt. He was bare to the waist. She stared in fascination—there were more muscles than when he had been fifteen—a lot more. The upper body strength required to wield broadsword, battleax, and shield corded his arms and shoulders with muscles. A jagged scar barely healed lay between a shoulder blade and his spine. She traced it gently with fingertips before bending to brush it lightly with her lips. An involuntary shiver coursed through him.
"How came you by this?" she asked innocently.
"Belesme. On the one occasion that I had to go to Gilbert's aid, I met him on the field."
"But this is your back, Roger."
"Aye," he agreed grimly. "Robert cares not how he gets me so long as the deed is done."
Belesme.
"I am your sister," she stated flatly. "Can you not see these men are as tired as you are? I, on the other hand, have little to do here but rest and pray." To emphasize her seriousness, she grasped the base of his helmet and removed it with a great deal of effort. It was well-fitted and did not want to come off, but finally succumbed to several twists and jerks.
"By the saints, Lea, but you are rough! Aubery has the hands of a child in comparison!"
"And I'll warrant Aubery has had more experience in such things," she agreed cheerfully. "I had no idea that it was so tight."
" 'Twould do little good if it weren't. If a blow can dislodge it easily, then I would be looking through the nasal or through the side."
"Oh."
She unlaced the sides of his plain surcoat, frowning as she did so. "You have not put your arms on here yet."
"Nay. I rise so fast in the world that I know not what to use there. I once thought to use the white hare, but Henry says I remind him more of a falcon than a hare."
"I should hope so. A hare sounds cowardly." She pulled the garment over his head and discarded it on the floor.
"A device is what one makes of it. I rather like the hare—quick, defensively colored."
"I am for Henry in this. From bastard of Nantes to Lord of Condes sounds like you have soared as the falcon, brother."
"Mayhap only to run like the rabbit, Lea." He closed his eyes to avoid her questioning look.
His mail shirt was of the new style, complete with coif to cover his neck and head. She loosened the fastenings at the shoulder and tried to draw it off. He raised his hands obediently to help.
"Careful. I have sweat so much that Aubery needs to polish it before it rusts."
"I know." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "In fact, you stink."
Hugh and Jean and a retainer she did not know dragged in a heavy oversized copper caldron from the scullery. It was already partially filled with steaming water. The men eyed Eleanor with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. They had little doubt that she'd never even seen a naked man before and were waiting for her reaction. As Hugh and Jean exchanged suggestive looks, Roger caught them and frowned.
"Leave us."
"But, my lord—"
"Take to your own pallets. Lea would have it that I've nearly run all of you to death today."
"But—"
"And I've not a doubt in my mind that her hands are gentler than yours, Hugh. Go on with you, but draw lots for who sleeps by the door."
Aubery hesitated, uncertain whether to suggest impropriety or not. Roger sensed his thoughts. "Nay, as she will tell you often enough, she is my sister. Besides, I have much to discuss with her."
Even as they drew lots for the watch, Eleanor continued divesting Roger of armor and clothing. Beneath the mail shirt he wore a stiffened leather hauberk, and beneath that, a heavily quilted gambeson. As she laid aside that last garment, she shook her head. "I should thank God that it is not July, Roger, else I could not stay in the same room with you. As it is, you are sweat-soaked enough. Look at your undertunic—'tis stuck to the hairs on your chest." The brilliant blue eyes were closed again, but he dutifully raised his arms to help her rid him of the shirt. He was bare to the waist. She stared in fascination—there were more muscles than when he had been fifteen—a lot more. The upper body strength required to wield broadsword, battleax, and shield corded his arms and shoulders with muscles. A jagged scar barely healed lay between a shoulder blade and his spine. She traced it gently with fingertips before bending to brush it lightly with her lips. An involuntary shiver coursed through him.
"How came you by this?" she asked innocently.
"Belesme. On the one occasion that I had to go to Gilbert's aid, I met him on the field."
"But this is your back, Roger."
"Aye," he agreed grimly. "Robert cares not how he gets me so long as the deed is done."
Belesme.
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