“I can sew my own clothes.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You do not seem to understand,” he said. “You are now the Duchess of Dorset. You do not sew your own clothing, nor draw your own water, nor do any number of menial tasks that you did back at the convent. The only thing you will do for yourself is chew your own food and breathe your own air. Everything else will be done by others.”
Annavieve’s brow furrowed. “I understand that fine ladies have others to tend their needs,” she said. “But… but what if I want to do some things for myself? Must I have someone else do it for me?”
“What do you want to do for yourself?”
She shrugged, glancing up as the shadow of the church fell over them. “I am not for certain yet,” she said, trying to think of something other than sewing that she might do for herself. “But I will let you know.”
Kevin pulled the horse to a halt. “Be sure that you do,” he said as he dismounted. Reaching up, he pulled her off by the waist. “More than likely, I will deny you, but do not be afraid to tell me what your wishes are.”
It was a contradictory statement, one with a hint of humor, but Annavieve didn’t see the fun in it. She stood there a moment, frowning up at him, not realizing that he was still holding on to her waist. His hands, big things, covered most of her torso on either side of her body.
“’Tis a foolish answer you give me, my lord,” she said, scowling at him without force. “Did you not hear the king say that you were submissive to me? Therefore, you must obeymyorders.”
Kevin couldn’t help it; he grinned at her then, letting go of her torso and removing his saddlebags from the horse. A lad came around to take the animal and Kevin paid the boy well tocarefully tend the horse. Once the horse was being led away to the livery across the street, Kevin took Annavieve by the arm.
“Come along, Lady de Ferrers,” he said. “Let us find a priest who can help us find someone to make you more presentable.”
Annavieve gathered her skirts as he escorted her up the steps. “Did you hear me?” she said. “You must listen tome.”
“I am listening to you.”
“Will you not obey me in all cases, Sir Knight?”
He looked at her just as the dark, cool entryway loomed before them. “I will obey you unto the death and beyond, my lady,” he said quietly. “I am yours to command, always.”
There was something serious in his statement where moments before, he had been grinning at her. Something quite serious lingered behind those green eyes, something that caused enough bewilderment in Annavieve’s mind that she lost her train of thought. Her heart thumped against her ribs, hard enough that she put a hand to her chest as if to still it. It was a sensation she was coming to associate with Kevin. The man made her heart do strange things. But she couldn’t speak. All she could do was stare into his lovely eyes, wondering why his voice had softened so when he had replied to her, but she was distracted from her thoughts as he led her into the church.
It was another old, dank church that smelled of dirt and burnt tallow candles. Kevin had firm hold of Annavieve as he pulled her into the bowels of the church on the hunt for a priest. There were a few people inside, lighting candles or speaking in hushed tones, and Kevin spied an acolyte as the boy went about very carefully collecting the melted tallow from the prayer candles in order to recycle it. A few short words from him to the boy sent the lad running into the darkness, seeking out the priest that Kevin had requested.
Annavieve had heard Kevin ask for the priest and she watched the boy scamper off. They were standing by the prayercandles now, a great bank of candles that people paid a pence to light in prayer. Her gaze moved across the glowing candles, smelling the acrid scent of the tallow, before moving away from Kevin and heading towards the altar. It was a rather poorly built altar with a large wooden cross behind it and she made the sign of the cross over her body, folding her hands in prayer as she began the Rosary.
It would seem that she had a lot to pray over, a desire she’d never felt more strongly than at this moment. So much had happened in her life, especially over the past two days, and she felt very strongly that she needed to ask for God’s help with things. A husband who didn’t want her and a knight who had been forced into bedding her… aye, there was much to pray over. There was much confusion in her heart that she hoped God could settle.
Kevin watched Annavieve as she knelt on the dirty floor of the sanctuary, her hands folded in prayer and her head bowed. All of the chaotic thoughts he’d experienced earlier were now calm, lingering peacefully in his mind, but he found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her as he watched her dark head. He was truly trying not to think of her at all, to view her neutrally, but it was a difficult struggle. Visions of her supple, long-limbed body against his filled his mind with lust and he had to look away and think of other things because he could feel his loins growing heated.
The duchess must conceive,Victor had said.Find a tavern today and take her again. It was a great irony that he was given permission to bed a woman he was increasingly attracted to, so much so that he planned to do what he was ordered to do and find a place to bed the woman. In fact, it was almost an overwhelming desire as he glanced at her again, watching her in thoughtful prayer. For a moment, he allowed himself to remember the taste of her upon his tongue and the silken textureof her skin against his hand. He knew he was becoming hard just thinking about her. The intoxicating scent of her woman’s core in his nostrils, the warmth of her skin against his, and….
“My lord?”
A soft voice broke into his thoughts and Kevin turned sharply to see a small, round priest standing a few feet away. Realizing that his lustful thoughts had given him quite an erection, and moderately chagrined he had been caught thinking of a woman’s body in the holy sanctuary of a church, Kevin hoped his mail coat and tunic were enough to disguise the bulge in his breeches. He shifted his tunic as he moved towards the priest, just to make sure, and praying the man didn’t notice.
“Is this your parish?” he asked the priest.
The bald man nodded. “Indeed, my lord,” he said. “I am Father Innocente. How may I be of assistance, my lord?”
Kevin lifted his eyebrow, pondering where to begin. “I have a rather unique request,” he said, pointing to Annavieve as she prayed. “That is the Duchess of Dorset. She was a royal ward, having spent her life being raised at Sempringham Priory, before marrying the duke yesterday. As you can see, the duchess has the simple wardrobe of a novice nun. I do not suppose you know of a seamstress in this town who could help me appropriately clothe her?”
The priest leaned to his right, peering around the enormous bulk of Kevin to study the woman several feet away. “I know of Sempringham, of course,” he said, eyeing Annavieve. “The Duchess of Dorset, you say?”
“Indeed.”
His brow furrowed curiously. “What is she doing here?” he asked. “Where is the duke?”
“He is traveling to Longcross. We are to meet him there after we have procured appropriate clothing.”
That explanation didn’t do much to clear up the priest’s sense of confusion at the situation. “I do not understand, my lord,” he said. “Why did he send her here? Staines is not a great or glorious town known for its textiles.”
