fact. It was as well that servants continued to come in and out, refilling the big kettles, building up the fire in the hearth, and filling the jugs of rinse water.
He wouldn't even be tempted to be foolish.
He stripped off and sat down in the tub, finding it a little small for his length, but otherwise ideal. The water was exactly the right temperature, seasoned by the herb bag, and with a film of oil that would linger on his body.
Though she might avoid the task, the Lady Aline was clearly skilled.
She turned cautiously, first eyes, then head, then - once she was sure he was decently covered - her whole body, suddenly brisk again. She picked up the pot of soap and a cloth and moved to wash his back. He took another cloth, had her soap it, and washed his own legs, chest, and arms. In fact, as was usual between strangers, he washed the parts he could reach.
It was sweet to feel her rubbing his back, but he'd rather she were where he could see her.
"So you still intend to be a nun, Lady Aline."
"Of course."
"What rules must you obey during this time away from the convent?"
"None. I never took a novice's vows."
Interesting. "Why not?"
"I was about to when Galeran went away and I went to Heywood to be with Jehanne."
"Do you miss the cloister?"
"Of course." But her voice did not carry conviction.
His lips twitched. "I'm sure it must be hard to be meek and obedient."
When she was silent, he added, "Especially if the orders are foolish. We encounter that, sometimes, in battle."
Her hand paused. "And yet you obey?"
"Generally. That is how armies work. And religious communities, I suppose. I wonder why you wish to be a nun."
"Why not?" Her hand picked up its task again. "It is a productive life."
"Some would say it is a sterile one."
"Only those who think of nothing but rutting." She stood and tossed the cloth on the floor. "Are you ready for rinsing yet?"
"In a moment." He made a business of cleaning his feet, pleased that she had moved where he could see her. Really, with her cheeks flushed, tendrils of her hair damp with steam, and her garments clinging to her generous curves, she was completely luscious. He felt his body respond, and decided he'd better stay in the water a bit longer to control himself.
A serving woman, bringing extra drying cloths, studied him with a sliding look and winked. Another Ella. She was tempting, but he ignored the invitation and leaned back against the rim of the tub. "What productive work do you hope to do in the nunnery, Lady Aline?"
"Prayer, of course," she said warily, "and care for the unfortunate." Then she added, "Also work with numbers. Accounts."
A light in her eye told him he'd found her true vocation. "A useful interest for a wife too, surely?"
Her lips curved in a cynical smile "What man would let his wife know all his business? Most certainly not a man of our class. I know only of merchant's wives who share fully in the trade."
"Perhaps you should marry a merchant, then." He was talking just to keep her where he could enjoy the sight of her, and also, perhaps, to teach her to be at ease with him.
"I would marry a merchant, and willingly, but Father would never permit that."
"So you wouldn't mind marriage?"
That set her blushing again. "Are you not ready for rinsing yet, Sir Raoul?
The water must be getting cold."
"Another moment, if you please. It is pleasant to relax here. So, will you be returning to your convent soon, now that Galeran is back?"
Her eyes slid away. "As soon as matters are settled."
"But can you do anything to help settle them? I think not."
She looked back at him, eyes clear and unflustered. "Why are you here, then, Raoul de Jouray?"
"Just to be with a friend."
"And that is why I stay too."
"Ah." He stood, deliberately catching her unawares. "I am now ready to be rinsed."
Her eyes skittered wildly and her color danced around her face, but she brought him the clean water - eyes averted - so he could pour it over himself. Then she held out the warm drying cloth and he stepped out of the tub into it.
They were alone for the moment, and he couldn't resist. Once he had the cloth wrapped decently about himself, he ran a finger gently over her rosy, averted cheek. "Thank you."