Lord Of Danger Stuart, Anne (classic fiction .TXT) 📖

was both unhurried and profoundly alluring, and yet he doubted she had any inkling of her sensuality. The kiss he’d given her last night had left her shaken, but he’d done his best to lull her into feeling safe and secure with him once more. He’d let her stay that way. For a while, at least.

“Do you intentionally seek out the ugliest clothing you can find?” he asked, leaning against the high work table and surveying her. “Or are you merely lacking in taste?”

Her flushed face darkened. “It would be very vain and foolish to wear costly garments.”

“Vanity and foolishness are expected in women.”

The glance she cast in his direction was wonderfully derisive. She said nothing—she didn’t need to.

“You could ask your sister for advice,” he continued, wickedly interested in forcing a reaction from her. “Her clothes are graceful and appealing. She could help you choose something new.”

“I choose my sister’s clothes,” Alys said. “If it were up to her, she would dress in stable clothes all the time. And when one is possessed of Claire’s beauty, everything is flattering.”

“Trust me, Lady Alys, muddy brown complements no one.”

It was working. She bit her lip, casting a troubled glance at him, obviously torn between hurt and annoyance. “If my lord Simon finds me that ugly then I wonder why you should agree to marry me?”

“It’s your clothes that I find ugly,” he murmured. “Fortunately clothes can be removed.”

He’d scared her this time. Not enough to make her jar the careful mixture she was stirring, but enough to flame her cheeks. “Or I can have prettier clothes made,” she countered.

“There is that alternative,” he agreed. “One does not necessarily preclude the other.”

“One may delay the other,” she shot back.

“True enough,” he said, enjoying himself. “Though it could work in any number of ways. I could strip you of your clothes and be so enchanted that I would wish to keep you in that particular state. Alternatively, prettier clothes might make me more impatient to take them off you.”

“There is always the dire chance that once you saw me without clothes you would be so appalled you would make haste to keep me properly covered.”

He laughed at that, unable to stop himself. She was a dangerous woman indeed, with a quick tongue and a ready wit, and a slow, sensual grace that was driving him to distraction despite the clumsy clothes.

A moment later he knew his timing could not have been worse. The doorway to his workshop darkened, and he knew instinctively who was there.

“Did I hear my Grendel laugh?” Richard the Fair demanded in his deceptively boisterous voice. “Surely I must be mistaken. Such a fearsome creature as my most trusted advisor would never laugh over some trifle.”

Simon said nothing, watching as Alys stiffened, immediately plastering a plain, quiet expression on her face. She didn’t like her half-brother, not a bit. But she wasn’t afraid of him, she who was afraid of so many things. Her future husband included.

“He was laughing at my clumsiness,” she said, stepping back from the worktable.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Richard replied, stepping into the room, his great bulk casting the entryway into shadows. “He’s not the sort of man to find humor in something so commonplace. You are reputed to be wiser than most of your sex, little sister. It is a rare woman who can make Simon of Navarre laugh. I may have underestimated you.”

Richard the Fair was gifted in the art of making subtle threats. Alys blinked, aware that she was in some sort of danger but unused to the machinations of her elder brother, and Simon deemed it time to intervene.

“It’s never wise to underestimate anyone, my lord,” he murmured. “Even the most humble of vassals might prove to be unexpectedly dangerous.”

“And my sister is hardly a humble vassal, is she?” Richard replied in a silky voice seemingly full of good cheer. “I forgot—she’s the smart one, the other’s the pretty one. I still say you made a bad choice, Grendel. But now that you have, I’m not in the mind to let you change. I have other plans for the pretty one.”

“I have no wish to change my decision, my lord.”

“You’re a deep fellow, Grendel,” Richard said, shaking his head. “I’ll never hope to understand you. Keep the girl busy. I have received word that Hedwiga will return tonight, and I have things to accomplish before she does. I don’t want anyone getting in my way.” He was gone as abruptly as he arrived, leaving Alys staring after him with a perplexed expression on her face.

“Why does he call you Grendel?”

“Surely a wise child such as you would know who Grendel is?”

“The bone-cracking, blood-drinking monster that Beowulf slew,” she replied. “I fail to see any connection.”

“You flatter me. Richard likes to see me as his pet monster, someone who can terrify his people into instant obedience.”

“I find Richard far more frightening.”

“No, you don’t. You’re quite immune to his bullying. But all I have to do is move close to you and you shake like a frightened rabbit confronted by a hungry wolf.”

“I rather saw myself as a white mouse,” she said, lifting her head to meet his gaze. “And you as a snake.”

He smiled slowly. “In the garden of Eden? Do I tempt you, Lady Alys?”

He already knew the answer to that question, even if she didn’t. He could sense it in the faint quiver of her mouth, the distant look in her changeable eyes. He could feel it in the air surrounding her. Dampness, heat and longing.

She wisely ignored his question. “Why did Richard tell you to keep me busy? Why should my presence be a constraint to him? I’m not likely to intrude on his private rooms uninvited.”

He’d hoped she hadn’t noticed the oddness of Richard’s request She was too sharp, and he doubted she would believe even the most likely of lies.

“I imagine it’s your room that he’s intruding on, in truth. And your sister.”

She stared at him. “What