Chapter 1
One
“All a woman ever needs know about men is that they are creatures of their codpieces. They live their lives by their male organ, and it is through that a woman can both control and conquer them.”
Emily sat on her bed beside her sister, Joanne, trying not to offend Alys by cracking a smile at her proclamation. She pressed her fist to her lips to hold back her mirth.
Then, Emily made the unfortunate mistake of looking at Joanne, and the two of them burst out laughing. The image was really more than Emily could take without laughter especially given the over-exaggerated codpiece Joanne’s betrothed preferred to wear.
Why, Niles paraded around like the god Priapus at a virgin festival.
Her maid, Alys, however, didn’t look so pleased by their merriment. Clearing her throat, Emily pressed her lips together and did her best to sober.
Alys set her hands on her hips and grimaced at them. At barely five feet in height, the maid was hardly one to intimidate. Still, they had been the ones to ask after the matter. The least they could do was listen without laughing.
Alys shook her head. “I thought my ladies were serious about this?”
Clearing her throat, Emily smiled. “Forgive us. We shall behave.”
Indeed, they had no choice for they were conspiring to gain Emily a desirable husband, and since neither sister had any idea how to seduce a man, Alys had been the only woman at the castle they dare ask.
Any other would have made straight for their father with the news of what Emily intended.
But luckily, the earthy and often corruptible Alys could be counted on the remain loyal to the ladies she served.
Alys flipped her black braid over her shoulder and shrugged. “Well, as Lady Joanne can attest to, the seduction part be easy enough. ‘Tis the keeping part that is difficult.”
Joanne’s face flushed deep red, highlighting her blue eyes. “I did naught but enter the room. Niles was the one who seduced me.”
Alys raised her hand, palm upward, in triumphant. “As I said, the seduction—”
“But what if he doesn’t want to be seduced?” Emily asked, interrupting her.
She returned her hand to her hip. Though Alys was in fact two years younger, she had been around all sorts of men and was considered by all the young women in the shire an expert.
Alys’s expression was one of studied patience. “Milady, I had my flower plucked when I was scarce more than a girl, and I can assure you there’s not a man born who isn’t randy. The only reason you’ve never had to fight them off is because of his lordship’s careful guardianship, and sharp sword.”
Emily couldn’t argue that. Her father kept watch over his daughters as if they were his prized heifers, and he dared any man to look.
And if one dared to touch...
Well...
She was quite surprised Niles had anything left beneath his codpiece.
Another thought struck her. “But what if I want him and he wants another?”
Alys sighed. “Lady Emily, you are always so full of what ifs, and ands, and buts. Let us say for argument that he might have interest elsewhere. All you must do is keep yourself in his presence. Flash him a little smile, a little ankle, a—”
“An ankle!” Emily gasped. “I should be mortified.”
“Better mortified than trapped in this castle with no authority.”
Perhaps there was some truth to that and at this point in her life she was becoming desperate. Her father wouldn’t listen to reason and if she had any hope of leaving this place and becoming her own lady, then she’d best be on with it.
“A little ankle,” Emily repeated, her face growing hot at the mere thought. “Anything else?”
Alys placed her forefinger against her pale cheek. “Always make him wait. Anticipation makes a man appreciate you all the more.”
Emily nodded. “My mother said as much to us.”
“And your lady mother was quite right.”
Joanne folded her arms over her chest. “Now, the next question is where do we find this man?”
Emily frowned in frustration. “Aye, that would seem to be the crux of the whole seduction thing, wouldn’t it? How can I claim a man when there’s no man to be found?”
“Well,” Alys said. “My mother always says you’ll find your rose where and when you least expect it.”
Later that day, Emily left the kitchens and headed back to the donjon. She’d no more than taken two steps when she found her way blocked by Theodore, the cousin of her sister’s betrothed, and the man they had disaffectionately dubbed the demon from the devil’s most odoriferous pit.
They must have inadvertently summoned him with their words that morning, for Alys had no sooner finished her lecture than Niles and Theodore had shown up on their doorstep.
Niles had taken Joanne off on a picnic and left his cousin behind for her to do her best to avoid.
From the moment her sister and Niles had vanished, Theodore had done nothing save make a nuisance of himself as he hung about her skirts while trying his best to get beneath them.
Emily’s patience had long worn thin and all she wanted was peace from her pestilence.
If Theodore be the rose Alys had referred to earlier, then Emily decided spinsterhood had great possibilities.
He rushed to her side and immediately reached for her hand, sending a wave of revulsion up her spine.
Why could he not leave her in peace?
The man might be considered passably handsome, if a woman were desperate enough. And Emily prayed she never became that desperate.
But he lacked basic hygiene. If it was true cleanliness was next to godliness, then this man had to be a heathen through and through, for his balding blond hair looked as if it seldom saw a comb and had never known soap.
His clothes were eternally rumpled as if he slept in them, and by the stains marring the fabric she would say he cleaned them about as often as he did his hair.
And when it came to his teeth, well, she’d seen better looking pumpkin seeds.
“Are you ready to give me my kiss now?” he asked.
“Uh, nay,” she said, trying to step around him. “I fear I have many, many chores to do.”
“Chores? Surely my company is far more desirable than any old chore.”
Emily bit her bottom lip to keep from saying she’d personally rather clean the cesspit and garderobes.
He stepped in time with her, cutting off her escape. “Come now, sweet Emily. I know how lonely you are here. Surely you dream of a man to come and claim you for his own.”
The key word was man. Since she could barely classify Theodore as a bed bug, he would never be the one she dreamt of at night.
He reached out and touched her veil to the side of her face in a familiar gesture that made her cock her brow in censure. He disregarded her look. “You’re fast passing your prime, milady. Perhaps you should consider doing as your sister did in order to find yourself a husband.”
Emily didn’t know what part of that offended her most. The insult to her age or the reminder of her sister’s shame at being caught abed with Theodore’s cousin.
“I can find my own husband, thank you,” she said icily. “And without any help from you.”
Anger darkened his gaze.
“I will have you.” He wound his fist in her veil.
Emily clenched her teeth in expectation of pain as she stepped out of his hold. The pins that secured the veil to her head tugged at her hair, but luckily released their hold and allowed her to escape. She rushed across the bailey, hoping to reach the crowded donjon before he caught her again.
She was not so lucky.
Theodore tossed her veil to the ground, and this time grabbed her arm to pull her to a stop.
Emily winced at the way his fingers dug into her upper arm as she tried to pull away.
For the first time in her life, she wished her father home.
No man ever dared such insolence while looking at his fierce countenance, and wherever Emily went, her father’s watchful gaze always followed.
Never before had she been grateful for her father’s unwavering attention.
But right now, she would welcome it with relish.
“I will have a kiss, wench.”
She would sooner kiss a leprous mule! Panicking, Emily looked about for some way to escape him.
A flock of chickens rushed out just then, gathering about their feet. As Theodore kicked at them, she was suddenly hit by inspiration.
She turned to face her pestilence with a charming smile as she recalled Alys’ earlier advice about men and their codpieces.
“Theodore?” she said in her softest voice.
It worked. The anger left his face, and he released her arm to take her hand and place a slimy kiss on her palm. “Ah, Emily, you’ve no idea how many nights I’ve lain abed dreaming of you and your soft sighs. Tell me, how much longer must I wait before I sample the fruit of your succulent thighs?”
Until the devil’s throne turned into icicles.
Emily barely caught the words before they escaped. She couldn’t believe her luck, she finally found a man to whisper poetry to her, and it was the most offensively obscene poetry she could imagine, and came from a man who was barely one step up from a warted troll.
Not even a full step at that.
Emily forced herself not to let her distaste show on her face as she wrested her hand from his cloying grip.
She heard horses approach. Assuming they were her men-at-arms returning from patrol, she didn’t even bother to look behind her as they entered the bailey.
Instead, she coyly wiped the slime on her hand off on her skirt. “At last, you have won me over, milord.”
The arrogance on his face was unbelievable as he postured before her like some pathetic peacock. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me, milady. No woman ever has.”
He must make it his habit to stay in the company of women who’d lost their ability to see, their ability to judge. And most of all, their ability to smell.
“Close your eyes, Theodore, and I shall give you what your tenacity deserves.”
A sly smile curved his lips as he closed his eyes and leaned forward with what she assumed he thought was a seductive pucker.