Domning, Denise by Winter's Heat Page A

ancestry. But, although he could certainly be no knight, Lord Graistan treated him as if he were, even giving him command of his true knights, men of noble birth.
    Briefly and without the slightest change of expression, Temric's brown eyes met hers. "My lord, if we push any harder the thing will mire in the mud at every turn of the wheels rather than every third turn."
    "God's blood!" Rannulf managed to make the low-voiced utterance sound like a scream.
    Temric straightened slightly as what might have been impatience flashed across his face. "Have you not yet tired of souring your stomach? And if you have not, I beg you to spare the rest of us."
    Rowena caught her breath. Surely, her lord would cut the man down for daring so much. She would have never have tolerated such impertinence from one of lesser rank. To her astonishment, her husband only groaned. "Has there ever been such an ill-fated venture?"
    "I agree," she snapped, "that our wedding was not what I desired, but do not curse God and call it ill-fated."
    "A poor choice of words," he said by way of apology. "Temric, I can afford no more time lost. Do I remember that nearby here lies a small hamlet? Let us pay some husbandman to keep the carts and be on our way. Have Gilliam send someone to fetch it later."
    "Should you push your lady so hard?" Once again, the commoner dared to criticize his lord. Were all the servants at Graistan accustomed to such freedoms? She frowned. If this was so, the advent of her rule would bring them all rudely back to earth.
    "I have no choice," her husband responded. "Unless"—here he paused in thought—"unless... it is not the best of options, but it will work.
    "If we could locate a dwelling there that is a suitable place for my lady, you and four men could house the carts for the night. Early on the morrow the roads will still be frozen, and it will be easier for you to finish the journey to Graistan. Aye," he continued, a new enthusiasm infecting his voice, "then, I will be free to continue on to Nottingham. Even better, this will give you the chance to escort from Graistan those supplies this impromptu wedding prevented me from obtaining." Rannulf eased back into his saddle, obviously pleased with his plan.
    It was equally obvious to Rowena that a suitable dwelling would be found, be it house or shed. "And what of me," she asked. "Am I to introduce myself to your servants without their master at my side to confirm my rights as their lady? How will they even know me?"
    His glance was disinterested. "The needs of my king must come before those of my wife. My half brother, Gilliam, who is my steward and holds Graistan during my absence, will stand in my stead." He gave it no further consideration; his difficulties had been solved. With that, he urged his horse forward.
    "You have all my gratitude," she bit out beneath her breath. Temric glanced impassively from one to the other, then repeated in the English language his lord's commands. The troop turned off onto the narrow lane.
    Fuming silently to herself, she followed him as their party made its way along the track. She cursed this arrogant husband of hers as well as her father. Never had a man done her a favor, nor did she foresee any such an occurrence in the near future.
    She heard the place well before they arrived. In the utter stillness of the winter woods, the gentle lowing of cattle and the bleat of sheep echoed eerily through barren branches. It was not much, only a knot of tiny buildings around which stood a helter-skelter wall of tree limbs woven with branches. Smoke drifting from the rooftops was absorbed into the heavy, leaden sky.
    At Temric's call a man appeared from the nearest cottage. Although he bowed and scraped before them, his eyes were narrowed and suspicious until he understood what was required and that coins would be offered. After a few minutes of fervent bargaining, during which the man displayed a greedy smile, Temric turned to Lord Graistan.
    "He says they