The Shattered Rose Page 0,83

Jehanne had to laugh, and she saw Lady Marjorie covering her lips with her hand.

But in the midst of all their other troubles, she didn't want to have to deal with this.

* * * * * The first action Jehanne took was to speak to Raoul. As Raoul had pointed out once before, it was Galeran's job, but the men might both think it a great joke.

As the sun began to set, and the household gathered for the evening meal, she threaded her way through servants loading the tables with food. She came up beside Raoul, where he chatted with one of the manors men-at- arms.

"Sir Raoul."

He turned to her with a smile, and the other man bowed away. Jehanne thought she detected a watchful look in Raoul's deceptively smiling eyes, however. Because she had been so absorbed by her own problems, she hadn't really noticed what a dangerously attractive man he was.

Though she was completely enamored of a man of lighter build, she could recognize that a tall, well-muscled man who handled his body with skill and grace had a certain elemental appeal. Clean bones under golden skin, white teeth, and livery eyes were all made worse by a distinct flare in his southern garments. And in addition to all this, he had that aura that Galeran had - an undefinable power that caught any woman's interest, and held it if she were free.

He was no training partner for someone like Aline.

"Sir Raoul, I am somewhat concerned about your behavior with my cousin."

He drew her gently out of the way of a man bearing a large bowl. "Has Lady Aline cause to complain of me?"

Jehanne realized she was being sparred with too. "She has made no complaint. But you must know that she plans to pledge herself to God."

"That is a worthy calling. For those who are called."

"You think she is not?"

"I think it wise for her to find out."

Jehanne found him altogether too arrogant. "The fact that you can heat her blood does not mean she lacks a vocation to the religious life!"

"Surely that depends on the amount of heat generated." He looked frankly into her eyes. "Lady Jehanne, would you want Aline stuck within the convent walls if it does not suit her nature?"

"No one has ever forced her to that. It is her own choice. . . ."

"Sometimes people change their minds. Sometimes they are fortunate, and have not yet committed themselves. Don't you think we should let Aline explore her feelings before she decides?"

Jehanne fixed him with a steely gaze. "Just make sure, sirrah, that her feelings are all you explore, or your exploring days may well be over, crusader or not!"

* * * * * Raoul watched Jehanne swish away to join Lady Marjorie, then worked his way around the crowded hall to come up behind Aline, where she sat pensively rocking Donata's cradle with one foot.

"You don't play fair, my lady."

She jumped, then swiveled, a charming and revealing blush flooding her cheeks. "What?"

"Setting your cousin to threaten to cut off the bits of me that most alarm you."

Her color deepened. "I did no such thing!"

"So you do admit their power?"

She turned away, nose in the air. "I believe I showed you earlier that your manly attributes have no power over me."

He bent down to whisper in her ear. "We were interrupted. Care for a rematch?" She was a genius with perfumes, the pretty witch. Rose, vervaine, and others too subtle to detect wafted from her skin to tantalize his senses, a sweet eternal promise of womanliness to balance the harsh world of men.

"Don't be silly," she hissed, rather denting his romantic musings on sweetness. "If you had any decency at all, you wouldn't have flaunted yourself like that!"

He straightened. "I was swimming, Lady Aline. An innocent activity. A virtuous one after dirty work. If you had any decency at all, you wouldn't have stared."

She avoided his point by reaching down to fuss with the baby's blanket.

"Perhaps we should repeat the match on more equal terms," he said.

"Naked to naked. See who blinks first."

The sound of stifled laughter made him smile. Ah, but he loved a lass who could laugh at such matters. Gently, he touched the nape of her neck where her short veil showed golden curls springing free of her thick plaits. The image of what she would look like, her lush curves naked except for the mass of her hair, tended to keep him awake at night. Or his wakefulness could