Page 11 of The Red Wolf’s Prize

“Does she tease them?” The face of the dark-haired temptresswho served in the evening flashed in his mind.

“Nay. She does not even look at them. But she is very comelyand Sir Maurin, who carried her back when they retrieved the servant girls,seems to have a fondness for the wench. The younger men have no intention ofdeferring to the knight where she is concerned. Instead, they compete to winthe girl’s favors. She encourages none. Mayhap she is even hostile to theirsmiles. From the looks she gives us, I think she has no kind feelings forNormans.”

Renaud was not about to let his men fight over a wench.There was much for them to do to remain ready to serve William should they becalled to battle. And they must soon hunt to provide meat. “See that she istaken off serving duty. Send her above stairs to work as a maid. I would seeher there this afternoon so I may judge for myself.”

“That I will gladly do,” said Geoff giving Renaud a lookthat said he was pleased his lord had relieved him of an unwanted problem.

Chapter 4

Renaud lingered at the high table in the hall until heglimpsed the servant girl with the brown plait carry a pile of linen throughthe entry heading toward the stairs to the bedchambers. Slowly rising, henodded to Geoff and followed after her.

Quietly, he stepped through the open door of his chamber.The girl had her back to him as she freshened the bed, the stack of clean linenresting on a nearby chest. He did not acknowledge her but went directly to thetrestle table, poured a goblet of wine and sat, pretending to examine a drawingof the lands surrounding the manor.

She turned. “I can come back later, my lord.” She spokemeekly, barely looking at him as she hurriedly finished with the bed and begana hasty retreat to the door.

He replied in the English tongue, as he did to all save hismen. “Nay, you may stay. Your work will not disturb me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her back stiffen.Slowly, she retraced her steps and resumed her work. Her movements were rushedas if she were trying to complete her assigned tasks in haste. Was she nervousat being alone with him? Even with that, Renaud thought her movements gracefulas she walked to the shelves near where he sat. She held her head high, unusualfor a servant in the presence of her lord. Though her long plait was the dullcolor of country earth, her profile was refined and her features delicate. Herose and silently moved to stand behind her where she dusted a carved box.

She must have sensed his approach.

“My lord?” she said, turning to face him.

Blue-violet eyes held his gaze only a moment before lookingdown at the floor. Set in her ivory face they reminded him of violets in thesnow. So mesmerized was he that, for a moment, he forgot his question.

“Your name is Sarah?”

Keeping her eyes focused on the floor, she said, “Yea, mylord.”

“How long have you been at Talisand?”

“All my life, my lord.” Her voice was soft, a low purr, andwith her words a flowery scent drifted to his nose. He was captivated andwanted to touch her. How long had it been since he’d had a woman? And this onewas causing his manhood to stir.

Turning back to the shelf, she resumed dusting the carvedbox, as if to put an end to the conversation. His gaze shifted to her hand asshe set down the box. Delicate fingers and ivory skin. It was not the hand of akitchen wench.

“Let me see your hand.” She started at his request, andthough he could see she wanted to resist, she did not fight him when he reachedfor her hand and brought it close to his body turning her palm upward.

It told him much.

“These blisters are new. You have not always worked in thekitchens nor done the wet work of the laundry, have you?”

She shook her head in silent agreement.

“What were your tasks before I came to Talisand?”

Looking down at her feet, she said, “I was with the LadySerena, my lord.”

“Ah, a lady’s handmaiden then.” So that is where the girllearned to speak so well, for her speech was not that of an ordinary servantnor her manner that of a scullery maid.

He waited for her to say more but when she did not, he said,“Tell me about her.”

She looked up. “What would you know, my lord?” Blue violeteyes held his. He could get lost in those eyes.

“How does she look?”

“She is tall and her hair is the color of summer wheat, mylord.”

“And her character?”