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Somehow he made it sound as if Scotland and Ireland had been in the wrong, and Je
Determined to guide the conversation back to its former, lighthearted topic, Royce said, "As I recall, we were discussing my inability to find a suitable wife on the battlefield, not the outcome of my battles themselves."
Glad for the change of subject, Je
"I have."
In thoughtful silence, she sipped her wine, while contemplating the tall man reclining beside her, his leg drawn up, his hand resting casually atop his knee, completely at ease in a tent on a battlefield. Everything about him bespoke the warrior. Even now, at rest, his body exuded predatory power; his shoulders were incredibly broad, his arms and chest bulged with muscle beneath his dark blue woolen tunic, and the muscles in his legs and thighs were clearly outlined by the heavy, black woolen hose above his high boots. Years of wearing armor and wielding a broadsword had hardened and toughened him for battle, but Je
"Not particularly," Royce said, distracted by the myriad emotions playing in her expressive eyes.
His admission struck her tender heart and made it ache a little, for Je
"Then where do you suppose the fault lies?" he asked, a faint smile playing at the corners of his chiseled lips. "Why do I not feel comfortable at court?"
"Are we talking about your feelings when you're with the ladies, or with the gentlemen?" she asked, feeling a sudden determined urge to help him that was the result of one part pity, one part strong wine, and one part reaction to his unwavering gray gaze. "If it's with the ladies, I might be able to help," she volunteered. "W-would you like some advice?"
"Please, by all means." Suppressing his grin, Royce smoothed his expression into an admirable imitation of earnest gravity. "Tell me how to treat the ladies so that when next I go to court, I'll be such a success that one of them may agree to have me as a husband."
"Oh, I can't promise they'll want to wed you," she burst out without thinking.
Royce choked on his wine and wiped the drops from the corner of his mouth. "If your intention was to build my confidence," he said, his voice still strangled with laughter, "you are making a bad job of it, my lady."
"I didn't mean-" Je
"Perhaps we ought to exchange advice," he continued mirthfully. "You tell me how a highborn lady desires to be treated, and I'll warn you about the perils of demolishing a man's confidence. Here, have more wine," he added smoothly, reaching behind him for the flagon and pouring some into her tankard. He glanced over his shoulder at Gawin and a moment later the squire laid aside the shield he was polishing and left the tent.
"Do go on with your advice, I'm all eager attention," Royce said when she'd taken another sip of her wine. "Let's assume I'm at court and I've just walked into the queen's withdrawing room. Gathered around are several beautiful ladies, and I decide to make one of them my wife-"
Shock widened her eyes. "You aren't the least bit particular, are you?"
Royce threw back his head and gave a shout of laughter, and the unfamiliar sound brought three guards ru
Her expression cleared and she smiled, nodding. "That's true, you did. I'd forgotten that beauty is what matters most to a man."
" At first 'tis what matters most," Royce corrected. "All right, then. What do I do, now that I've, er-singled out the object of my matrimonial intentions?"
"What would you normally do?"
"What do you think I'd do?"
Her delicate brows drew together and amusement teased the corners of her generous mouth as she surveyed him, considering her answer. "Based on what I know of you, I can only assume you'd toss her over your lap and attempt to beat her into submission."
"You mean," Royce said straight-faced, "that isn't the way to handle the matter?"
Je
"Just how does a wellborn lady dream of being treated?"
"Well, chivalrously, of course. But there's more to it than that," she added, a wistful light shining in her sapphire eyes. "A lady wants to think that when her knight enters a crowded room, he has eyes for no one but her. He's blind to everything but her beauty."
"In that case, he's in imminent danger of tripping over his sword," Royce pointed out before he realized Je
She sent him an admonishing look. "And," she said emphatically, "she likes to think he's of a romantic nature-which you obviously are not!"
"Not if being romantic means I have to grope my way into rooms like a blind man," he teased. "But go on-what else do ladies like?"
"Loyalty and devotion. And words-especially words."
"What sort of words?"
"Words of love and tender admiration," Je
Royce studied her in appalled surprise. "You actually dream of a man saying such things to you?"
She paled as if he'd struck her, but then she seemed to dismiss the entire matter. "Even plain girls have dreams, milord," she pointed out with a smile.
"Je
She chuckled without rancor and shook her head. "Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to dazzle your lady fair with your glib flattery, milord, for you haven't a prayer of success!"