“It is the character of my husband that concerns me more than his appearance.”
“Aye,” Berthe agreed, then her eyes widened.“And that is fine, is it not?He is a warrior, to be sure, and Annossy will be blessed by his presence.”
“Will it?”
“Of course, my lady!”Berthe’s eyes sparkled with mischief, which surprised Melissande.“All of the women in the kitchen declare they would be glad to bed Quinn de Sayerne in your stead.”
“Do they?”Melissande admitted he had an appeal, in a rough way.
“Aye, Dame Fortune has smiled upon you, my lady, for that rogue Tulley—pardon any disrespect, my lady, but he is one who sees to his own interests first—could have seen you wed to the first man who came along, and not waited for a fine specimen such as he.”
“You have seen him then?”Melissande indulged in a sip of wine so seldom that this heady brew of Berthe’s was having a strong effect upon her.
“Aye!He passed me twice, and once he stood directly before me.He is tall and broad, my lady, a man who can swing a sword and one who will defend both you and Annossy.”
“You cannot know that, Berthe.”
“Tulley has sponsored him for twenty years,” Berthe replied.“Because of his honorable nature, Tulley ensured that he trained for his spurs, and suggested that he ride to Palestine on crusade,andsent a messenger to find him and summon him back when Jerome died.He is Tulley’s man, to be certain, my lady, and that cannot be a bad alliance for you.”Berthe added a little more wine to the cup.“What did you think when first you saw him, my lady?You must have been aware that he is aman.”
“I feared he had lice,” Melissande admitted and Berthe laughed before she covered her mouth with one hand.
“You did not, my lady.”
“I did.”
“And what did you think next?”the maid asked, her eyes sparkling.
Melissande dropped her gaze.She had thought Quinn alluring.He was disheveled, poorly garbed, and less than clean, but did have the most wonderfully warm gaze—when he wasn’t angry, of course.
“You must tell me, my lady, are his eyes truly golden?They seemed to be lit with fire when I saw him.”
Melissande felt a jolt that Berthe’s question should so closely echo her own thoughts, but the girl continued.“Aye, they are gold, and most uncommon for that.”
“Are they the shade of honey or of a deeper hue, like that of amber?”Berthe asked.“There is great dissent in the kitchens over this and I—for the sake of accuracy, of course—would like to be the one to set the matter straight.”The maid paused, her expression expectant, and regarded Melissande.
Melissande cleared her throat.It was easy to recall the precise shade of Quinn’s eyes, and the way they changed when his temper flared.Although she was not one to encourage talk among servants, it seemed that the gossip mill was at work already on this matter.
“It depends upon his mood,” she admitted, hoping against hope that her cheeks were warm because of Berthe’s brew.
“His mood,” Berthe breathed.“How so, my lady?”
“When he is angered, they flash like gold in sunlight, but when he is...intent, they darken like wildflower honey.”Melissande was certain her own cheeks were on fire.
Berthe’s eyes were round.“Intent?”
“Aye,” Melissande agreed and took another sip of wine.“Intent.”
“Intent.”Berthe clasped her hands together, sighed, then spun across the room.“I was thinking, my lady, that you might wish to wear something special, seeing as it is your wedding, and also that you would wish to look your best.”She cast a quick smile over her shoulder.“I am so glad I thought to bring your new kirtle made of the samite we purchased from that trader from the East.That green shade is most alluring, for it makes your eyes shine like emeralds and your hair look like spun gold.”Berthe stroked the kirtle as Melissande watched.“With the gold embroidery upon it and your red slippers, it is fitting enough for a royal bride.I have borrowed some red ribbons and pearls from Heloise’s maid, that I might dress your hair.”She smiled.“My lady, you will look beautiful.”
Beautiful.For a match she did not wish to make.
Melissande frowned.She hoped that her finery was not destroyed by the brute in his consummation of their match.Would she have time to disrobe?Or would her kirtle be torn in Quinn’s desire to claim his marital due?Although Melissande did not intend to lose Annossy, still she dreaded the inevitable.
Too late, she wished she knew more of these delicate matters.
She eyed Berthe but knew she could not possibly ask her maid.
She held out her cup to Berthe, knowing that boldness would come from wine.It had already made great strides in settling her fears.
