Read Online The Modest and the Bold by Leelou Cervant - Free Book Online

handling, were prepared.
    At the center of this
merry gathering was Constance, handsome in the dark green cote and
matching surcote she’d exchanged her stained work clothes out with.
As she ate and drank and smiled her small smile, what Sir Fulke had
spouted at her in the cellar slayed her efforts to focus on
anything else. Noting his absence from the feast early on, her
resolve to maintain her distance from him had waned into
indecision. Had he spoken true? Had he
really come to desire her over Adele? If so, why had he suggested
that they not continue with their affair?
    Racked by an all-consuming
need to discover the truth, Constance quitted the dais. Progressing
around the hall, affecting enjoyment of the scene of those dancing
to the gay tunes produced by the likewise hopping castle minstrels,
she exited the keep. Floating down into the ward, a breeze tugged
at her fine linen veil and wimple dyed the same dark hue as her
gowns. She was not sure where Sir Fulke was. She figured to pursue
him in his private quarters first.
    * * *
     
    In the shadowy entrance
hall of the keep stood Adele, her eyes observing Lady Constance as
she crossed the ward to the gatehouse. Glancing around, and finding
none out, she crept after her. Entering the gatehouse she wound her
way up its torch lit stairwell. Gaining the landing off the
corridor where Sir Fulke’s room was located, she glimpsed the sweep
of dark skirts as the lady padded into that chamber.
    Eyes narrowing, Adele
leaned against the curving wall of the stairwell, simmering in
jealousy, and waited to see what would occur next. Well, the bastard might think himself well on
route to landing a worthier position. But the lady’s brother will
not stand for it . A malicious grin spread
across her face as she envisioned Sir Richard’s fury once she
brought him the news of his lady sister being “seduced” by his most
trusted man.
    Crossing her arms over her
bosom, she sighed. If only Sir Richard
were here now …

F OURTEEN
    Slouched at his table in nothing save braise, a cup and his
beer allotment jug near to hand, Fulke gazed down at the
embroidered linen Lady Constance had given him. Prior, he’d owned
only two things that meant anything to him—his courser and the
shell lamp that had been his sister’s. Fingering the delicate
needlework upon the fine square Fulke established that he now
had three prized
possessions.
    The bright marigolds led
Fulke’s focus to the Lady Constance and the disgust he’d seen in
her countenance, in her eyes , when he’d tried to explain his
agony in the cellar stairwell. He sighed. She despises me, now. Should have let her be since the
off.
    His mouth and eyes bent in
discontent, he barely glanced up when his door opened and a vision
he dared not hope was real drifted into his chamber. Linen square
in hand, he sat unmoving as Lady Constance, her green gowns seeming
as dark as night, stepped into the faint glow of his lamp. She
kneeled in front of him, her luxurious attire, shot through with
gold thread, glimmering. Her eyes were probing as she stared up at
him. In that moment, he willed all his feelings for her into his
eyes that she might see the truth.
    And she did.
    She laid her cheek against
his hands. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head to her
temple. She does not detest me! Shuddering, he lifted his head a measure to kiss
her ear. Then he stole across her face to her lips. She sighed and
repaid his kiss in full. Wrapping his arms about her he pulled her
between his legs. Cupping her face, he devoured her nectarous
mouth, his thumbs rubbing across her moist, swollen lips each time
he loosed them.
    “ Oh, Fulke,” she
whispered.
    “ Constance,” he breathed.
Tugging her veil and wimple off, he latched onto that sensitive
area of her neck, his tongue swirling, his teeth nipping. His name
spilled from her lips.
    “ Fuullkkee !”
    Rising, Fulke hauled
Constance with him. As she explored his chest with hands and lips
and tongue, he