‘Aye, damn you, we are agreed.’
The door had no sooner shut behind Baron Geoffrey than Rosamund let loose her fury.
‘You swine! You vile, arrogant swine! How could you? What do you think I am? Do I not have feelings? I hate you, do you hear me? I hate you!’
‘I should think they’d hear you in Paris, my angel.’
‘I am not your angel! Is it not enough that I am brought here against my will and mauled and-’
‘Hardly mauled, Rosamund.’
The dry tone fuelled her rage. ‘And mauled, and insulted – called a whore. You call yourselves men? Noble men? Pah! You’re not men, you’re rutting swine!’
Oliver closed the gap between them and brought his face close to hers. ‘You were not averse to sharing my sty last night,’ he said, quietly.
She jerked her gaze away. She was uncomfortably aware that her body had reacted instantly to his nearness. Her breath had caught in her throat and she knew she was blushing. Hopefully, he’d take it for anger...
Oliver caught a strand of her hair and wound it thoughtfully round his forefinger. His expression softened. ‘Rosamund.’ Shaking his head, he released her hair and scooped up the blue gown. ‘You’d better clothe yourself...’ he cleared his throat ‘...otherwise I shan’t be responsible for my actions and will indeed become the beast you named me. Hurry, we’re expected in the hall.’
Running his finger down her cheek – his touch was light, but it burned – he turned his back on her.
She didn’t need to be told twice. Yanking the gown over her head, she scrambled up, shaking out the full skirt to remove the creases. She started at the side lacings.
‘Oliver, what will you do? You can’t keep me here, I’m a married woman, and my duty is to my husband.’
‘Your obedience to your lord comes first.’
‘How can that be? I’m not a serf, I was born a free woman. My father was given his freedom when he got tenancy of the mill.’
Oliver turned and frowned at her. ‘Hurry up, what’s taking so long?’
‘It’s the lacings. They’re awkward to get at, and I’ve never worn a gown with such long sleeves, they’re getting in the way.’
‘Allow me.’
Rosamund held still as Oliver tightened up the fastenings, jerking and jolting her in his impatience. She watched him out of the corner of her eye – he was wearing his distant look.
‘It matters not that you are a freewoman,’ he said. ‘If the lord commands you, you must obey. Baron Geoffrey’s word is law.’
She shook her head. ‘Fine lord he is. He snatches me from my husband and my maidenhead is stolen. I’m insulted. He threatens me himself. And if that weren’t enough, he rubs salt into the wound by offering me to you as part of a bargain whereby you achieve your knighthood.’ Her voice rose. ‘He threw me in with the deal in very much the same way as he throws largesse to the children after the harvest supper. And you-’
‘Aye, Rosamund, what did I do that was so very wrong?’ Oliver asked. There was a strange glint in his eyes.
‘You accepted his terms without so much as a murmur of protest! Holy Mother, where’s your sense of justice?’ She put scorn into her voice. ‘I judged you to be upright, to be honest – but you’re worse than a cheating whore, far worse.’ Striving for calm, she took the comb from the coffer, divided her hair, and deftly braided it.
‘How so?’ His voice was cold.
‘Whores don’t tend to involve others in their sordid little deals. You, however-’
‘Enough!’ He raked back his hair. ‘If I hadn’t intervened, you might have found yourself Geoffrey’s leman. I thought I did right by stepping in. Maybe I misread you, maybe you are angry at a lost opportunity.’ His lip curled. ‘After all, who would bed with a mere squire when they might bed their liege lord instead?’
‘Why you...you...’ Words failed her.
Grey eyes bored into her. ‘As for this choice you seem so intent on...if you put your wits to some use, you’d see that I have no choice either. I refuse to end my days as a squire, I will be knighted. I am new to Ingerthorpe but my cousin is giving me a chance. What kind of a fool would I be to let a peasant maid come between me and a knighthood?’ He sighed. ‘Rosamund, it was not at my instigation that you were included in the deal. So, think again, angel, before you cry to me that this is not to your liking.’
Rosamund glared up at him, she was shaking with anger. ‘At least we know where we stand. And what to expect from each other.’ She tossed her braids over her shoulders. ‘Hadn’t you better escort me to the hall?’ She gave him a sweet smile. ‘I hope I don’t shame you, for I’m a low-born peasant, and I’ve never broken bread in a castle before.’