Free Breath of Heaven by Cindy Holby Page A

a tub made of hammered copper.
    Mathias brought up the rear with a wide grin on his face. “Just as you requested, milord,” he said.
    Rhys cocked a questioning eyebrow at the servants. There was one somewhat dusky wench who carried the tray of food, but the rest were men. Unfortunately, the wench placed the tray upon a table, dipped a quick curtsey, and left while the men arranged the tub in front of the fireplace and poured the steaming buckets of water into it.
    “Is this not as you requested, milord?” Mathias asked innocently. He stuck his tongue sideways in his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. “Did you not ask for someone other than me to bathe you?”
    “I will beat you eventually,” Rhys said.
    “Do you make a habit of beating your squire, milord?” a voice called out. Rhys turned to find a tall woman standing in the doorway holding a basket with soap, oils, and towels. She seemed older than he, yet her face was remarkably smooth except for a few lines around her mouth and her strikingly blue eyes. Her head was completely covered with a thick veil and a long blonde braid shot with silver hung down her back. Her clothing was simple, yet rich, a dark blue bliaut of velvet with intricate silver embroidery on the sleeves that flared at her elbows to reveal a lighter blue sheath beneath. The sleeves of the sheath tightly hugged her arms, ending past her wrists in points between her thumbs and fingers. A wide silver chain belt with a small dagger rode low on her hips. The artistry of both was exquisite. The dagger held a large blue sapphire much like the ruby in the hilt of his short sword.
    The woman carried the basket past him, across to the tub, and set it on a small stool. Placing her hands on her hips, she turned to look at Rhys. The look she gave him was appraising, as her eyes swept from the top of his head, down his chest, over his hips, to slide down his legs, where his toes curled into the thick pile of the rug beneath his feet.
    “Which do you require first?” she asked as the serving men left the room. “To break your fast or bathe?”
    Rhys dropped the fur. “A bath,” he said, and strode casually to the tub.
    She lifted an eyebrow as her sharp eyes took in everything about him and Rhys graced her with a smile, stepped into the tub, and sat down in the warm water. He could not help flinching as the heat seared his skin, especially the tender region between his thighs, but he kept his gaze upon the face above him. She might be older than he, but she was beautiful and he had found in the past that older women were most generous and ingenious in the art of lovemaking.
    “Are you the lady of the castle?” he asked. He knew that Edward’s wife had died many years ago but had not heard whether he had ever remarried.
    “No,” she said. “I am but a simple servant.” She held out a bar of soap for his approval. He sniffed it. Sandalwood, of course, with a hint of something else…pine possibly? He nodded his approval and she dipped it into the water along with a cloth and lathered them together. “My name is Madwyn,” she continued as she picked up his arm and began the process of scrubbing the days of travel from his body. “Milord and lady both bade me to apologize for their lack of hospitality this past eve. Milord is not well and milady and I were not present when you arrived.”
    “Is your lady at home now?” His curiosity was once more piqued about Edward’s mysterious daughter. Mayhap she was hidden away in a convent where no one would see her.
    “Yes,” Madwyn replied as she moved around the tub and started on his other side. “Milady Eliane and I returned early this morning. She is attending to the needs of Aubregate and her father. She will send word when he is ready to meet with you.”
    Rhys reclined against the back of the tub with hiseyes closed while Madwyn went about the business of washing his body. The heat of the water spread into his muscles and relieved much of