Free He Calls Her Jasmine by Ann Jacobs

causes.
    If they were very lucky, Henry might let him live and let this marriage stand, while confiscating Summerfield and bestowing it separately upon some other worthy knight. If so, Rolfe knew he’d have won the greater prize.

Chapter Six
     
    “‘Tis a bold move you plan, my brother. Marrying her could mean your fortune. Or your death.”
    His throat dry from the hurried ride from Hedgewick, Rolfe quaffed his ale, then met Giles’s concerned gaze. “I wed with her for love. Not for the riches she may bring me.”
    “Nonetheless—your Jasmine is a great heiress indeed if she is Earl William’s daughter. King Henry has declared the earl an outlaw and ordered his properties reverted to the Crown. We ride out on the morrow, to join his armies and take Summerfield by force.”
    “Why had you not sent me word?”
    “Henry’s messenger arrived only yesterday. Sir Tomas was about to ride out this morning as you rode through Harrow’s gates to raise troops from Hedgewick and my other holdings.”
    Rolfe thought of Jasmine, her hopes of regaining her lost memory, and despaired as to what the coming battle might do to her fragile mental balance. “I would not tell her who we go to fight.”
    “‘Twill be a difficult secret to keep, I think. Even now Brianna has likely told her your wedding celebration comes on the eve of a great battle.”
     

* * * * *
    “There. You will wear this for your wedding.” Lady Brianna pulled an undergown of shimmering gold silk from a coffer by the window. “I like it not on me, but with your vibrant coloring, it will be beautiful.”
    “Thank you.” Jasmine doubted any garment would be less than fetching on the countess, whose unusually short blond curls framed a classically beautiful face. Even now, so soon after she’d given birth, her waist seemed small enough for her lord husband to span it with his two hands. “I will wear it gladly. I fear Hedgewick’s attics provided little in the way of ladies’ garb.”
    “It matters not. I was dragged to the altar to wed with Giles, wearing boys’ clothes, with soot and tar smeared in my hair and on my face and hands. You see, I tried desperately to escape him. Now I thank the saints I did not.”
    The way Brianna’s expression softened told Jasmine the match that had begun by force had become a love match. Having seen Lord Giles, who looked much like Rolfe only sterner, Jasmine had no problem imagining Brianna having fallen quickly in love.
    “Is this the tunic you were seeking, my lady?”
    Brianna took a practically transparent garment from the hands of a man—the biggest, most unusual-looking man Jasmine had ever seen. She tried without success to drag her gaze from his shining scalp, practically beardless face and…his naked chest and the colorful open vest he wore over ballooning pants. He reminded her of some of the erotic pictures in Rolfe’s book.
    “Thank you,” Brianna murmured. “Jasmine, this is Arnaud. He is my right hand when my lord Giles must be about on the king’s business. His services this night will be my gift to you and Rolfe. Go, Arnaud, tell my husband and brother the bride will be ready soon.”
    His services? Surely Arnaud could not be the eunuch of whom Rolfe had spoken… “This is too fine, my lady. I cannot—”
    “Silence. You wed with my beloved brother-by-marriage. Naught is too fine a gift to celebrate his good fortune.”
    Confused, for she brought naught but herself to Rolfe , Jasmine stood silent while Brianna and two serving women fussed over her hair and fought over which of the fine girdles Rolfe had selected as her bride-gifts looked better with the shimmering sunburst of sarcinet and the gold undergown beneath it.
    The picture book image of a woman and her lover, attended by a huge, exotic man who was not a man, made Jasmine wonder. The possibilities intrigued her. Did Arnaud pleasure Brianna when Lord Giles was off fighting the king’s battles? Did he join the two of them to