Page 90 of Bold Angel
“There are not enough words to thank you,” Tosig said to Hassan, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “May God grace your goodness in all the years to come.” He sat down near the pallet and took his young wife’s hand.
It was nearly dawn when they left Edmee’s hut, but Caryn had never felt more vitally alert. The air outside seemed less chill, the sky more vast, and the darkness less fearsome.
“’Twas a wondrous thing we did,” she said. “There can be no greater joy.” Standing close beside her, Ral cupped her face in his hands. They were massive and powerful yet they could be infinitely gentle.
“Only should the child have been ours,” he said and kissed her softly on the lips.
How would it feel to bear Ral’s son? she wondered. There would be pain—she had known that all along—but there would also be gladness. The joy of holding their babe, the pleasure of watching him grow through the years. It pleased her to know it was something Ral wanted.
Her glance shifted back to the cottage and her smile began to fade. Inside the hut, the wee babe suckled at its mother’s overripe breast. Caryn remembered how cumbersome the young woman had grown in the months before her lying-in, how fat and clumsy. She thought of how Edmee had waddled when she moved, how her heavy weight had left ugly marks upon her skin.
Caryn stared after her husband as he moved off toward the horses. He was tall and handsome, virile and powerfully built. He was every woman’s dream and even without his title she didn’t doubt he could have his pick. She looked down at her stomach. Her waist remained narrow, but even now his seed might be growing.
What would he think of her when she was as big and cumbersome as Edmee had been? Would the sight of her disgust him? And what of his passions? Would he wait for the arrival of their child? Would Ral remain faithful?
’Twas more likely that he would take another leman.
Caryn’s insides churned. He had given up Lynette, but he had not said there would never be another. And he had never spoken of love.
Caryn shivered, feeling a sudden chill.
“You are cold,” Ral said, returning to her side. “You will ride home with me.”
Caryn did not argue. She needed the warmth of his hard arms around her. She needed to feel wanted and safe.
She wondered how long he would make her feel that way.
***
Richard absently finished eating, his mind on the night’s entertainment ahead.
“Where is the jester?” Lord Ral asked from the seat beside him on the platform. “We have much to celebrate. I would hear a verse to the child of Braxston that Hassan has delivered among us.”
Richard shifted uncomfortably, thinking of the girl who would soon come forth to entertain them. Now that he knew that Ancil was a woman, each of her movements drew his eye and fired his blood. What would the other men think should they realize the truth about her? ’Twas indecent for a lady to be dressed so, showing off her shapely limbs beneath the short tunic and making him wonder at the size of her breasts. Was their small size the reason they did not show, or had she disguised them, as she had done to her ears?
Uneasy all through the evening, Richard waited till the meal was ended then approached the girl in the passage at the end of the great hall.
“I would have a word with you, lady.”
“Aye, Richard. Why do we not go into my chamber where we will not be seen?” She lifted the curtain to her small private sleeping room.
“We cannot go in there. ’Twould be unseemly to do such a thing.”
“No one knows I am a woman.” She lifted the flap once more.
“Iknow,” he said, firmly jerking the curtain from her hands and letting it fall back in place. “Which is why I seek you out.”
She turned to face him more squarely, her expression hidden by her half-black, half-white face paint. “Go on.”
“’Tis unseemly for a woman to display herself as you do. You must tell Lord Ral the truth.”
“Nay, you know that I cannot.”
“Then at least find a way to end your lewd charade. You are a lady. You cannot continue to behave as you do.”
Ambra set her hands on her hips, her tunic sliding in to reveal her tiny waist. “I act the part of jester. There is nothing lewd in that and even if there were, ’tis no concern of yours.”
“’Tis my concern, since you have fallen under my protection.”
