Free Healer's Touch by Amy Raby Page A

she wants me. She’s married .” His eyes fell on Isolda. “Three gods, Drusus, we’re not alone here. Apologize to the lady for your crudeness of speech.”
    Drusus grinned. “I’m sure the lady’s heard worse, since she’s Sardossian. But I apologize.”
    “You wouldn’t believe the things we hear,” said Isolda. Drusus was right, but she appreciated Marius treating her as if she were quality. It had been a long time since anybody had.

Chapter 9
     
    Marius’s aggravation began to fade as he entered the villa and saw that his cook, Aurora, had managed to keep Rory occupied in an admirable way. The boy was crimping pastry with the back end of a knife, his face furrowed in the intense, single-minded concentration typical of young children. He didn’t even notice when they walked in.
    “Rory’s helping me make tarts,” said Aurora.
    “I hope he hasn’t been any trouble,” said Isolda.
    “Oh, no, he’s an excellent helper.”
    “Mom, I’m good at this,” said Rory, adding a final crimp to his tart.
    The room smelled heavenly. Marius looked to the windowsill and saw that an earlier batch of tarts had already been baked.
    “Carrot and potato,” said Aurora, pointing at the first row. “Chicken and mushroom. Apple. Careful, they’re hot.”
    Marius offered Isolda first choice. When she hesitated, he realized that she was probably planning to eat sparingly out of some misplaced concern that she and her son were eating too much of his food. Therefore, he stepped in and loaded a plate for her, placing one of each variety of tart on it, and assembled identical plates for himself and Rory.
    “I should warn you that I’ve had Aurora alter the recipe for these,” said Marius. “I haven’t a taste for most spices, so the flavor may be simpler than what you’re used to.”
    “It sounds perfect,” said Isolda. “I’ve never gotten used to all the spice in Kjallan foods.”
    Marius relaxed a little. He’d been criticized before for his lack of sophistication in his eating habits. It was nice to have a guest who didn’t think less of him for preferring the simple, earthy flavors he’d grown up with in Osler.
    He offered a plate to Rory, but Rory waved the food away, saying, “I’m busy.” He was crimping another tart.
    “Rory,” scolded Isolda.
    “Never mind,” said Marius, ushering her out of the kitchen and into the dining room. “He can eat later.”
    Drusus joined them at the table, with five tarts piled on his plate. Since Lucien had assigned him a bodyguard, Marius had never been truly alone. But Drusus, at least, wouldn’t stick his nose in the conversation. Aside from a little teasing where Lady Fabiola was concerned, Drusus minded his own business.
    Lady Fabiola—what a shameful episode. Especially with Isolda right there in the room. “I’m sorry about that woman this morning.”
    Isolda shrugged. “I have seen worse.”
    “Have you?” Now he was curious. “Here, or in Sardos?”
    She laughed. “Here, of course. Never in Sardos.”
    “Why do you say that? Do you impugn the morals of Kjallan women?” He smiled to make it clear that he was joking.
    “Women and men are the same everywhere,” said Isolda. “But given that woman’s pregnant state, surely she is married. And in Sardos, adultery is punishable by death.”
    Marius’s skin crawled. The death penalty felt extreme, even to his small-town soul. “You mean to tell me that a woman who does what Lady Fabiola was trying to do—”
    “Woman or man,” said Isolda.
    “It’s punishable by death ?”
    She nodded.
    Marius shuddered. “Then I’m glad I don’t live in Sardos. Not to insult your homeland, and it’s not that I don’t disapprove of adultery. It’s just that I feel it should be a private matter rather than a matter of state.”
    “We’re of the same mind,” said Isolda. “Kjall is a freer country than Sardos, and I am grateful for that. Despite the dangers my people face here, in some ways we are