Come.
Eyebrows rising, Rolfe followed at once, the promise of food a strong lure. Where are we
going?
Around to the back door of the kitchen to find something to eat, Emma announced, tugging
the door open and leading him out into the crisp morning air.
Rolfe grimaced at that. I do not much care for the idea of eating in the kitchens, Em.
Cook will have our ears.
Cook is unconscious by the table beside his wife. Sides, I was thinking we might go on a
picnic.
A picnic?
Aye. Emma threw a grin at him over her shoulder as she led him around the building. We
have not had one for ages. And I have missed our little excursions. Emma smiled softly as
she thought of those brief escapes from the castle when they had been children. They had
collected bits of food while the cook wasnt looking, and then crept out into the woods
surrounding her fathers castle to feast on their stolen fare before playing hide and seek
in the trees. There is a lovely clearing just ten minutes away on horseback. It has a
little brook running through it.
Sounds charming. Rolfe smiled slightly, caught up in remembrances of his own. Emmalene had
not been a proper lady then. She had been a hooligan of the highest order. And she had
always insisted on being the dashing Lord Darion when they had played Catch-me- if-ye-can,
rather than the fair maiden as he had been sure she should. She had been as daring as any
boy as she had flown through the woods, scrambling up trees and swinging from branches.
Her skirts had never slowed her down, for she had hooked them at her waist to keep them
out of the way. Or simply borrowed a pair of Rolfes braies. If her father, his own uncle,
had ever caught them at it, he would most likely have tanned them both.
Ah, who was he fooling, Rolfe thought wryly. Uncle Cedric had indulged them in all things,
especially Emma. He most likely would have turned a blind eye. In fact, he more than
likely had been aware of their games and had turned a blind eye.
Here we are, Emma announced. Pushing through a door into the kitchen, she collected a
basket from the corner and began filling it.
Shaking his mind free of thoughts of the past, Rolfe peered down at the food Emma was
packing away. Whoa, cousin, you do not need that much. There are only the two of us.
I thought mayhap the bishop might like to join us. I saw him crossing the bailey as we
came around the building.
Rolfe felt a brief shaft of jealousy at the thought of sharing their childhood ritual with
the bishop, then shrugged and nodded. They were no longer children. And this was not his
uncles castle. In fact his uncles castle was now his own.
As you wish, he said easily, taking the basket from her and offering her an arm.
Amaury was not a morning person. He never had been, but this morning of all mornings he
was feeling particularly black. He had passed the night fitfully, kept awake by the
throbbing of his own poor manhood. It seemed that, while his mind was chivalrous enough to
be determined not to put upon his poor young bride any further on her first night as his
wife, his manhood was not nearly so sympathetic. It had not helped that he had found
himself constantly sitting abed, lighting the candle beside it, and staring at her
beautiful face in repose. Truly, his wife was a delicate flower in her loveliness. Even
her snoring had been dainty.
Amaury had finally drifted off into unconsciousness as the sun began its journey across
the sky. One short hour later he had awakened in his new home, his new castle, his new
bed, to find his new bride
conspicuous in her absence from that bed. Now, after a thorough search of the castle and
bailey, he had yet to discover her whereabouts. The bailey was nearly as dead as a tomb.
There were only two men guarding the wall. The rest of the castle population, along with a
good number of the inhabitants of the attendant village,
Eyebrows rising, Rolfe followed at once, the promise of food a strong lure. Where are we
going?
Around to the back door of the kitchen to find something to eat, Emma announced, tugging
the door open and leading him out into the crisp morning air.
Rolfe grimaced at that. I do not much care for the idea of eating in the kitchens, Em.
Cook will have our ears.
Cook is unconscious by the table beside his wife. Sides, I was thinking we might go on a
picnic.
A picnic?
Aye. Emma threw a grin at him over her shoulder as she led him around the building. We
have not had one for ages. And I have missed our little excursions. Emma smiled softly as
she thought of those brief escapes from the castle when they had been children. They had
collected bits of food while the cook wasnt looking, and then crept out into the woods
surrounding her fathers castle to feast on their stolen fare before playing hide and seek
in the trees. There is a lovely clearing just ten minutes away on horseback. It has a
little brook running through it.
Sounds charming. Rolfe smiled slightly, caught up in remembrances of his own. Emmalene had
not been a proper lady then. She had been a hooligan of the highest order. And she had
always insisted on being the dashing Lord Darion when they had played Catch-me- if-ye-can,
rather than the fair maiden as he had been sure she should. She had been as daring as any
boy as she had flown through the woods, scrambling up trees and swinging from branches.
Her skirts had never slowed her down, for she had hooked them at her waist to keep them
out of the way. Or simply borrowed a pair of Rolfes braies. If her father, his own uncle,
had ever caught them at it, he would most likely have tanned them both.
Ah, who was he fooling, Rolfe thought wryly. Uncle Cedric had indulged them in all things,
especially Emma. He most likely would have turned a blind eye. In fact, he more than
likely had been aware of their games and had turned a blind eye.
Here we are, Emma announced. Pushing through a door into the kitchen, she collected a
basket from the corner and began filling it.
Shaking his mind free of thoughts of the past, Rolfe peered down at the food Emma was
packing away. Whoa, cousin, you do not need that much. There are only the two of us.
I thought mayhap the bishop might like to join us. I saw him crossing the bailey as we
came around the building.
Rolfe felt a brief shaft of jealousy at the thought of sharing their childhood ritual with
the bishop, then shrugged and nodded. They were no longer children. And this was not his
uncles castle. In fact his uncles castle was now his own.
As you wish, he said easily, taking the basket from her and offering her an arm.
Amaury was not a morning person. He never had been, but this morning of all mornings he
was feeling particularly black. He had passed the night fitfully, kept awake by the
throbbing of his own poor manhood. It seemed that, while his mind was chivalrous enough to
be determined not to put upon his poor young bride any further on her first night as his
wife, his manhood was not nearly so sympathetic. It had not helped that he had found
himself constantly sitting abed, lighting the candle beside it, and staring at her
beautiful face in repose. Truly, his wife was a delicate flower in her loveliness. Even
her snoring had been dainty.
Amaury had finally drifted off into unconsciousness as the sun began its journey across
the sky. One short hour later he had awakened in his new home, his new castle, his new
bed, to find his new bride
conspicuous in her absence from that bed. Now, after a thorough search of the castle and
bailey, he had yet to discover her whereabouts. The bailey was nearly as dead as a tomb.
There were only two men guarding the wall. The rest of the castle population, along with a
good number of the inhabitants of the attendant village,
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