Free Seduced by Sophia Johnson Page B

hour, the young laundress arrived with
fresh linens. Startled, she stopped inside the doorway, blocking
two servants behind her. One carried a pitcher of ale, the other a
heavy tray.
    "Did ye wrestle a demon whilst ye napped, my
lord?" As she came into the room, she eyed the crumpled sheets
piled in the middle of the bed. The two young women who followed
looked him over and giggled as they placed his food on the
table.
    Raik winced when he shrugged. English lasses
were a strange lot. They snickered for no reason.
    "I sewed yer tunic. 'Tis not decent for ye to
stride around covered with naught but a too-short drying cloth,"
the laundress said. Her gaze dropped to the edge of his
covering.
    He held his hand over his stomach to keep the
cloth there, then with legs slightly apart, bent over. Were he a
modest man, what he displayed would embarrass him. She laughed
behind him. He had just bared the hairy ballocks swinging betwixt
his legs.
    He sprang upright.
    "'Tis no wonder the maids fight to bring ye
water." She winked broadly and handed him his tunic. "Get about yer
work now," she ordered the girls. They turned and scurried from the
room, stopping at the door for another appreciative look.
    He examined the fine stitching and tossed her
a kiss. Carefully, he tugged the tunic over his head and settled it
on his body before removing the drying cloth.
    Raik studied the platter heaped with pigeon
pie, a roasted capon, beans and purplish red carrots lathered with
honey and cinnamon. A wedge of cheese, two apples and a plum stood
beside them. The wonderful smell of hot bread led him to follow his
nose to large scones wrapped tightly in linen. He groaned with
delight. He had a weakness for freshly baked scones.
    "So yer mistress doesna plan to starve me
after all? Porridge wasna a hearty meal for a wounded man to break
his fast."
    At Raptor, he had not hidden his disapproval
of Lady Letia. If she knew he favored hot scones, she would not
have provided them. He sensed her dislike for him. Had noted she
steeled herself to touch him. He grabbed a scone and took a huge
bite. His groan of pleasure brought a grin to the laundress'
face.
    "Ye were lucky cook hid them for ye, else ye
would be eating brown bread."
    "Hid them? Why should she hide them?"
    "The small ones were gifted scones as prizes
for their hard work this morn."
    "Children must work?" That didna fit with
what he had seen of the too-soft baron and his wife.
    "All children here must work, though the
mistress makes it seem more a game that they play with her." Seeing
his questioning look, she added, "They learn to sling."
    "What are their ages?"
    "At five years of age, they start getting
used to the feel of the slings and tossing small stones. By the
time they reach ten, they have become skillful. By twelve, they are
accurate."
    "How does she make it a game?" He talked
around a mouthful of pigeon pie then took a swallow of ale to wash
it down.
    She grinned as she described this day's
practice as seen with the other women watching from atop the corner
tower. The mothers all had great pride when their child performed,
for Letia made over each one as if they were the best in the land.
Describing Giles' antics, she laughed aloud.
    So. That was the reason she was atop that
mounting block. He had watched, frowning, because the squire didn't
go to the barracks to cleanse himself. Thinking on the worms
bombarding the squire's clothing, his nose wrinkled. He didn't like
the nasty things.
    What had they talked about that brought such
a bright smile to her lips? She had gazed down at the young man and
her throaty laughter had floated up to him. He took another swig of
ale, his irritation mounting.
    Every man in the bailey, and even those
standing guard atop the battlements, had taken their eyes from
their work to watch their mistress. No doubt, more than one was
awash with love for her.
    Warin should keep his wife within the
keep.
    He refused to let himself admire her teaching
the young ones