The dim light from a single candle did lovely things to the planes of Leonie’s face. Rolfe was held by her spell for several moments before he recollected himself and brusquely ordered the two maids out.
“When I am away you may sleep here if that is my lady’s wish, but not when I am in residence. You may return here in the morning to assist her, but you will not enter here unless you are bid. I need no one to wake me. If I have not yet risen, no matter the hour, I do not wish to be disturbed. Is that understood?”
Wilda and the older Mary both looked to Leonie first. At her nod, they nodded to her husband. His temper might have exploded over that, but in fact he was amused, although he kept his expression carefully blank.
“Go below. Sir Thorpe will show you to the women’s quarters.”
As he entered the inner chamber, he said, “It was good of you to return to Crewel so quickly.”
“Did I have a choice, my lord?”
“No, but you might have thought of a hundred things to delay your arrival. I am pleased you did not.” She had not moved from the door. “Close the door, Leonie, and come in.”
She did not like his using her name so easily, nor did she trust his calm. She closed the door slowly and moved reluctantly back into the room, going directly to a chest by the bed where she found a belt for the robe.
Rolfe sighed when she finished tying the belt but made no move toward him. “Is this to be the way of it?” he said as he unbelted his sword and laid it aside. “Must I always ask for your help?”
Leonie reddened. He was right of course. He should not have to ask her for anything. A wife’s duty was to anticipate all of her husband’s needs.
Yet she did not come forward, for the situation reminded her that she was not a normal wife. Why should only some things apply to her as wife, when the most important things did not?
“I am not a squire, my lord.”
He stiffened, looking at her carefully. “You refuse to help me?”
Leonie shivered. Actual defiance she did not dare, but…
“There are servants here.”
“And you would prefer to expend yourself simply to wake one, rather than come near me? It is late, woman. All are abed but you and I.”
“I…as you wish, my lord.”
She forced her feet to move, telling herself that at least she had made her reluctance known to him, whether it angered him or not.
Rolfe began to lower himself to a stool, but she said, “I will need that to stand on.”
The stool was only two feet high. Rolfe looked at it skeptically anyway. “It was not made for standing.”
“I have done this for Sir Guibert,” she insisted, climbing onto the stool.
“You will fall,” he warned her, and she scoffed, “I will not.”
“I forget how tiny you really are,” he said as he knelt.
How husky his voice was, a caress. He was lookingup at her, and Leonie refused to meet his eyes. She quickly bent to grasp the hem of his hauberk. The sooner done…
She had the last of the heavy armor over his head, but she’d forgotten how much weightier his chain mail was than Sir Guibert’s. Her last hard tug sent her backward, the hauberk still in her hands, its weight throwing her off balance.
“Drop it.”
She dropped it, and he grabbed her.
“I think you are not suited for this task,” he said.
“Put me down.”
The dismay she felt in being held in his arms made her voice overly harsh. He touched her feet to the floor, then he released her altogether, whereupon she ran to the bed and drew the curtains around her.
