Free How to Train Your Knight: A Medieval Romance Novel by Stella Marie Alden Page B

instead of their other fine assets. I could send an emissary to buy a loom from him. Mind you, it could take months, mayhap even years.”
    “Sir?”
    His dark brows furrowed in concentration and his well-sculpted jaw loosened, then tightened. “I’ll make some more recommendations. For now, continue as thou art doing.”
    She chose to ignore the commanding tone and held out some of her finest wool so that the bossy weaver could continue with his inspection. He fingered the softest of fabrics and nodded. “This will fetch a good price.”
    Thank Goodness. That was all she really needed to hear. She just had one more thing to show him. “So you continue to give your stamp of approval? We’ll be able to sell at fair with no issues? What percentage—”
    “Yes, of course, and of course. Can I ask you something more of a personal nature?”
    Behind her, he had turned somewhat sideways to maneuver the narrow path between the stone buildings. He ducked under an arch and strode over the puddle that she had to plow through. Ugh. The lower edge of her dress was now soiled and the day had just begun.
    “Do you take any monies for yourself?”
    “I already told you. There is naught I need, except a shorter dress.” She wished she were outfitted as a lad again. Men had it so much easier. She held up the edge of her muddy tunic for him to see. They exited a corridor and entered an open square.
    “Enough personal talk. Would you like to see our new vat for dyeing the wool or not?”
    One of his eyebrows rose in question. The small gesture was so imperial that she had to laugh. “Ha, you didn’t know, did you? Oh, it’s a big secret. But at the next fair, we’ll have blue wool. Ah, it’ll be deep and soft and royal. A color that’s never before been seen in England.”
    She closed her eyes, danced a little jig, and swirled with her arms outstretched to the sky. Surely, The Beast would leave her and her woolly jewels behind and go joust and fight. What could a man of war want with sheep? She’d make him leave. She’d show him how dull, stupid, and dirty they could be. Maybe she could pay him off in gold. He could leave men to guard the fields, but he had to go.
    Her heart tightened in her chest. Hadn’t she rather begun to look forward to their evening talks? Her new husband was an intelligent and well-traveled man. There was so much she could learn from him. She opened her eyes and blushed furiously as the weaver gazed at her with way too much interest. His eyes were set upon her breasts.
    He closed the space between them. “Thou art truly beautiful when you dance for your wool. I’d have you dance for me with a passion like that.”
    “Shh, shh. Not so loud. I’m a married lady. The Beast will have your head.”
    What in the world had come over her this morning? The guildsman must’ve put a strange spell on her. He put his hand lightly around her waist and his fingers met under her breast, reminiscent of another time, another man. She couldn’t recall right at the moment, for her brain had turned to meal.
    His lust poked at her belly and he groaned. “We’re alone here and he’ll never know. A man can only endure so much, dear lady.”
    How had she not noticed that he’d led her into an empty building? She squirmed in his embrace with heart racing and pushed against the stone wall of his chest. “Let go of me.”
    Instead of complying, he kissed her lightly on the lips . Oh, my. When he stopped the heavenly assault, she asked, “Mayhap we could have courtly love? I’d give you my handkerchief and you would swear undying loyalty? I’ve always wanted that. It would be so romantic . . .”
    His eyes went dark and way too serious. Her ears pounded as her fingers slipped under her sleeve and grasped the warm handle of her knife. Heaven was not meant for her.
    He moaned, dug his hands through her hair, and lay siege to her the mouth. He claimed her, thrusting his tongue between her lips and resting his hard