Read Online Wild Roses by Miriam Minger - Free Book Online

the room bearing a blue silk gown
and matching cloak and slippers that Maire recognized at once as hers, followed
by four other female servants toting steaming buckets of water. Yet the girl
stopped cold when she saw Flanna, her eyes widening as she glanced at Maire and
back again.
    "You silly freckled goose, what are you staring
at?" Flanna demanded, fisting her hands at her waist. "I'm still Lord
FitzWilliam's mistress no matter how things may look, and you can tell as much
to the rest of that nosy lot in the kitchen—no, no, better yet, I'll tell them
myself!"
    Maire watched speechless as Flanna flew from the
bedchamber as suddenly as she had come; her heart sank that she had no idea how
the young woman planned to help her leave the castle. Yet given Flanna's
defiant pronouncement, Maire doubted Duncan's mistress would fail her. All she
had to do now was remain calm and wait for dark.
Flanna had said it would be late—
    "Miss, will you need me to stay for your
bath?"
    Maire flushed warmly as the serving girl glanced at her
legs draped by the blanket; it was clear she must have heard something of last
night and imagined her a helpless cripple. Adele's
cruel words ringing in her ears, Maire gave a small sigh and rose from the bed,
saying with quiet dignity as she walked a few steps to prove she wouldn't
topple, "I can manage, truly."
    Now the serving girl's face grew red. She lingered only
to mumble something about a seamstress having mended a small tear in the gown
and to point out that a latrine could be found in the short passageway leading
from the bedchamber to the next room, and then she was gone, the other women
hastening with their empty buckets after her.
    Maire hurried too, to close the door, but glanced first
with wary curiosity into the small outer chamber. Her face grew twice as hot as
she spied a gleaming mail shirt lying on a bench, and she thought at once of
Duncan, recalling all too well the powerful span of his chest and the potently
masculine smell of him as he'd leaned close to her—
    "Jesu, Mary, and Joseph, Maire O'Byrne, have you
lost your wits altogether?" she scolded herself, discomfited that she
would even harbor such memories. She closed the door firmly and went to the bed
to gather her clothes, the familiar things making her
heart begin to ache. She so wanted to be home in Glenmalure!
    Ignoring any thought of a bath no matter how tempting
the steamy water, Maire dropped the blanket she'd worn like a shield and
dressed quickly, the soft linen camise and cool blue silk a comfort against her
skin. Eating a Norman's food was one thing, she had to
do so for nourishment. But she would not indulge in any needless luxuries; she
couldn't. No matter any kindnesses, Duncan FitzWilliam was her enemy, Ronan's
enemy, Eire's enemy, the blood of countless slain Irishmen, women, and children
an eternal blight upon his kind.
    Chilled by the thought, Maire went to the nearest
window and looked out upon a bustling courtyard, but her gaze went at once to
the towering castle walls and a massive drawbridge flanked by mailed guards.
Her heart began to pound.
    Surely Flanna didn't intend for her to leave by that
route, as Maire couldn't imagine that they wouldn't be stopped and questioned.
No, there had to be another way, or mayhap Duncan's mistress planned some
disguise—
    "A pity that hot water must go to waste. You don't
wish to bathe?"

     

     

 
    Chapter 7

     
    Maire spun around, her heart slamming in her throat as
Duncan came into the room. She knew she was staring like a fool but she
couldn't help herself. The brilliant daylight added breadth and heightened
proportion to a man she had thought formidable enough last night. How could he
possibly seem taller or more powerfully built? Yet his shoulders were immense
beneath a dark green long-sleeved tunic. Every masculine inch of Duncan
FitzWilliam was as physically impressive as any man she'd ever seen, including
her own brothers.
    Unconsciously her eyes swept