Free The Saxon Bride (The Norman Conquest Series) by Ashley York

interested but not with this woman. Felicity's moan had yanked him back to reality. It had been wrong to his ears. It was not Rowena—his wife.
    He groaned in frustration knowing all he had to do was go back to Rowena, walk into her room and take her. That was the release he needed. All this frustration building up inside, all this pent up desire. She was his wife. He had every right to do just that, and yet he didn't want it to be like that. He wanted her to be like she had been earlier, full of desire and passion for him.
    Felicity plopped down on the stool beside the fire. "So you're pining after someone in particular?"
    John laughed out loud at the absurdity of his answer. "Yes. My wife." Her shocked expression said it all. "It is a private matter."
    "The Lady Rowena, is she sick then? She cannot see to your needs?"
    "No. Not sick. We're just…not able to be together right now."
    "Is she big with child?" Felicity paused , scrunching her face as if trying to figure out whether the lady of the manor could be pregnant.
    "No. Stop prying and cover yourself. I will not be tempted."
    Felicity smiled and stood up then.
    "You know where to find me," she said.
    Her sashaying hips held his attention as she walked out of the room.

Chapter Eight
    John arose early to the sound of rattling pots and pans from the kitchen and the shouts of a bossy woman. The innkeeper’s wife's voice was not the most pleasant to hear. He stretched in his bed before rising, fully clothed. Splashing cold water on his face from the pitcher beside the bed, he shivered and realized there was no towel for drying. A quiet knock on his door was answered with a grumpier response than he had intended.
    "Excuse me, my lord," the plump redhead’s smile vanished when she saw him standing there fully clothed. Her jaw dropped. "You slept alone?"
    "Of course. Have you a towel?"
    "Oh." Sticking her head into the hall, she bellowed the order and quickly handed him a towel. Her smile was sickly sweet. "Were your accommodations lacking then?"
    Sitting on the side of the bed, John began pull ing on stockings and boots before he answered. "The accommodations were fine."
    When he stood to attach his scabbard, she grew agitated, speaking too quickly to be immediately understood. "My lord, we are getting breakfast for you."
    John responded when he was finally able to decipher her words. "I am fine," he insisted.
    When he reached for the door, she turned a pouting smile at him. Her grip was tight on his arm, stopping him from leaving. "Will you be staying here again, my lord?"
    The sparse furnishings were adequate; a bed, a washstand, a sizeable fire. The alternative arrangements would be awhile in working out. Rowena's smiling face had him grinning to himself. He scratched at his whiskers. Still, better to be prepared. "Yes. Keep the room for me."
    The sun was just rising above the horizon and the day's concerns were closing in. In the Great Hall at the castle, John found his men breaking their fast. Mark sat next to Peter at the table.
    "Mark." John straightened his sword as he stood beside them. "How is the boy who was trampled?"
    The dark-haired man shoved the honey covered biscuit into his mouth before he answered. "He is mending." Crumbled bits of biscuit flew out with his words.
    "Good. We will see him before we leave this morning." John glanced around the Hall, empty except for his own men. "Has anyone seen Arthur?"
    Peter's attention was now fixed on John. "What do you need to see Arthur for?"
    The man's suspicious tone couldn't be missed. John lifted one eyebrow in answer and pursed his lips. "The condition of the village, Peter."
    "Mayhap we can meet him with you?" Peter patted Mark's back and nodded enthusiastically. Mark frowned. He obviously did not understand the strange suggestion.
    J ohn shook his head. "I told him we would speak today."
    "That was before you wanted to cut his head off his shoulders." Peter glanced around as he spoke.
    Mark shoved another