“You give me overmuch credit. I fear the Black Lion has no power at this moment.”
“You are wrong, for the stench of you may lay me low.”
Ranulf grinned at her. “A wench who would have me come to her clad in iron is not a lady of delicate sensibilities.”
She put her arms around his neck and pulled him to her in a fierce hug. “Nay, I fear I am not a lady when I am near you.” She pulled back and kissed him. “I will help you remove this heavy thing and then we may return home. Mayhaps I will share a tub of hot water with you.”
“A delightful prospect.”
She helped to pull the mail from him, and he pulled her close to him. “You have not told me the cause for your anger at me. Do not say you felt no anger, for I have come to know you.”
“Nay, it matters not my reasons. The anger and the reasons are at an end now. You are with me and naught else matters.”
“I have become as an old woman since I took you to wife and fret overmuch on too many things. I do not feel your troubles are at an end and will not be unless you tell me the causes. Am I so formidable a husband that I am not worthy of your trust?”
“Nay, it is not your trust in me that plagues me, but mine in you. Do not question me more. It is gone now and we are together. I ask for no more.”
He kissed her forehead, not really sure of her answer, but helpless to learn more. He held her at arms’ length, studying her body. There was a little more fullness in her breasts, her stomach harder, only slightly rounder. He ran his hands over her, impersonally.
“I hope I meet with your approval and you make your purchase.”
He ignored her. “I thought women were ill when they carried children. You do not seem affected by my son.”
She shrugged. “I believe some women are. I am glad not to be ill. My husband causes me enough worry without his son adding to it.”
“I am a sweet-tempered man and never give you cause for concern.”
“Aye, it is me that creates my own troubles.”
He frowned at her, her acquiescence more alarming than her anger. He held her against his chest, almost frightened by her strange words. “I will listen, whatever your troubles.” His grip on her tightened until she could not breathe. “There is no other man you desire?”
She hit him with all her might, with her fist, just under his ribs. “You have a meager brain and I will not glory your question with an answer. Now dress yourself so we may return home.” As he turned away smugly, she could not resist a jibe. “There could be no other man, for you took all the most handsome when you took your guard.” His hand gripping her wrist caused such pain as to bring tears to her eyes. “Ranulf, you hurt me! I do but jest. I want no other man. Release me, you great oaf!”
He let her wrist go and then smiled at her, as if ashamed. “I fear there are some jests I cannot see humor in. I have told you I will never share you.”
Her eyes blazed intensely. “And what of you, my husband, am I to share you?” Her voice was serious, almost a whisper.
He seemed startled, her question surprising him. “I have not thought of it. I think it is different with a man than a woman.”
“Are my feelings of hurt and jealousy less than yours because you are a man?”
“Nay, I cannot answer. I have never considered the idea ere now.” He was serious, his brow creased as he concentrated. “All men go to war and there are always women. I do not think it would be the sam
e.”
“All women must wait while their husbands are at war and there are always men.”
“It would matter to you that I had other women?”
“Think you could bear another man’s hands on me? Nay, do not bruise me again, I but use words. I, also, do not like to think of another woman touching you.”
He picked her up then, his arms about her waist, lifting her and holding her above his head. “I have heard that lions take only one mate; mayhaps I am a true lion. Your words are new to me and, in truth, the idea had never crossed my mind. Even King Edward … nay, I will spread no court gossip. I will think on this novel idea. Now I grow hungry. Can we not find that ugly animal you ride and return home?”
“Loriage is beautiful! You are but jealous that he is docile for me and no other.”
“Your words ring true. I hate all men near you, be they horse or even bird. Why could you not be as other females and ride a dappled mare?”
“If I were as other women you would not have me. I am the only woman who neither fears you nor dotes on you. You have been overly spoiled in your life. I wonder what your mother could have been like to rear such as you.”