Medieval Master Swordsmen(54)

She nodded unsteadily, pulling her shift back over her head without his assistance. In fact, Rhys simply stood there, watching her hands shake as she tried to dress herself, knowing that if he were to assist her, she more than likely would end up with less clothing on than before. It was safer for him to keep his hands to himself. But she had trouble cinching up the surcoat and he took pity on her, gently spinning her about to tie the fastens on each side of the garment that secured it to her figure.

When she was dressed, they just looked at each other. Her breathing had resumed its normal rhythm but her eyes held tremendous softness upon him. Rhys didn’t know what to say; he wasn’t thinking straight and he didn’t trust his tongue. After a moment, he smiled weakly for lack of a better response and extended his hand to her. She placed her small, cold hand in the palm and he squeezed it tightly.

They walked in silence the entire way back to Whitebrook.





CHAPTER NINE



Rod de Titouan was the type of man that women went mad for. He had black hair like his older brother and eyes that were the color of the sky. His eyes did not have the intensity of Rhys’ brilliant blue, but they were nonetheless captivating and intelligent. He was tall with a muscular build that was both lean and powerful, and he had a smile that positively lit up the heavens; it was the first thing Elizabeau noticed when she saw a strange, handsome knight standing in the courtyard of Whitebrook. He smiled and all she could see was teeth.

Rod was smiling broadly at his older brother, who walked up to him, grabbed him in a bear hug, and promptly threw him to the ground. Elizabeau gasped as the two of them began to wrestle in the dirt but it was clear that their antics were not the result of animosity. It was widely apparent that the brothers adored each other as they rolled around, mock-punching and trying to rub each other’s face into the dust.

“You little whelp,” Rhys had his brother by the shoulder, good-naturedly pounding him in the chest. “I should have smothered you while I had the chance.”

Rod was not as strong as his brother but he held his own quite well. In a slick move, he swept his legs sideways and took Rhys’ feet out from underneath him. Rhys landed heavily, with a grunt of pain, and Rod rolled on top of him.

“You’re as big and unwieldy as an ox,” he shot back. “What in the hell are you eating that you would get so big?”

Rhys took him around the neck and flipped him onto his back. Rod groaned as his brother’s substantial weight came down on him.

“Do not make light of my size,” he growled, his hand around Rod’s neck. “I could quash you like a bug and not raise a sweat.”

In spite of herself, knowing full well what Rod’s appearance meant, Elizabeau smiled at the tussling brothers.

“Rhys,” she said softly. “Is this the brother with the extra set of teeth?”

Both brothers looked up at her; Rhys grinned, hearing his words from the story he had told the merchant at the Blond Gazelle.

“I told you he would punch me in the nose if he knew I told such tales about him.”

Before Elizabeau could reply, Rod propped himself up on an elbow. “Extra set of teeth? What nonsense is this?”

Rhys just laughed. Then he stood up and shoved his brother back to the ground when the man tried to rise. Rod tackled his brother’s legs and sent him to the ground and they started wrestling again.

“This,” Rhys grunted as Rod’s foot found its way into a soft spot against his abdomen, “is my brother, Rod, who does not happen to have an extra set of teeth. Rod, this is…,” he grunted again as Rod shoved him in the face to keep him down when he tried to lift his head, “is the Lady Julianna. My wife.”

Rod suddenly stopped struggling with his brother and his eyes flew open wide. Shocked, he looked to the lady, back to his brother, and promptly wrapped his hands around his brother’s neck.

“You married and you did not think to tell me?” he demanded.

Rhys coughed, swept a big fist at his brother’s head, and sent the man crashing to the ground. He stood up, rubbing his neck as his brother shook the stars from his eyes.

“It only just happened,” he said

Rod blinked several times and slowly pushed himself up from the ground. His blue eyes were focused on Elizabeau.

“Lady du Bois,” he greeted formally, though there was a twinkle in his eye. “Welcome to the family. But you picked the wrong brother to marry.”

“Oh?” Elizabeau lifted an eyebrow. “But Dylan is far too young.”

Rhys snorted; so did Rod. “I did not mean Dylan,” he looked at his snickering brother. “But I can see that my brother has you bewitched. There was never a chance for the rest of us.”