Page 14 of The Raven and the Rose
Tristan shrugged, “There are only—the young ladies from the riding academy,” he finished lamely.
Roger gave him such a scorching look, the younger man stepped back.
“I’m going to the kitchen,” Ravenspur announced, and then threw over his shoulder, “Stay!” as if they were two dogs.
As soon as Roger left the room, amusement danced into Tristan’s eyes. “By God’s bones, this is rich! Do you really wish to get out of your betrothal?”
“With all my heart!” she spat.
He grinned wickedly. “Then you’d best not tell your parents you spent the night in his bed.”
Roseanna’s mouth fell open as she realized she couldn’t use that weapon against him.
Roger returned with two women from the kitchens. “This lady needs a maid and a chaperone,” he explained to them.
“But yer lordship, I only knows kitchen work,” the first woman protested.
Roger said smoothly, “My good woman, I have just promoted you. Find this lady some modest attire. If none can be found, then you will have to stitch something.” He turned to the other woman, whose eyes were like saucers at the exalted company. “You will stay with this lady at all times as her chaperone. Under no circumstances is she to be alone for one moment.”
Roseanna opened her mouth to protest, but Roger ordered, “Silence!” He turned to Tristan, “I want ten knights for her escort, and by Christ they’d better be sober. See to it!” He issued one last order before he departed. “Be ready to leave by the time I’ve finished breakfast.”
Roseanna gasped at the sheer arrogance of the man. She said to Tristan, “I shall get down on my knees every night and thank God for delivering me from such a union!”
Tristan thought to himself, “Roger will do as he pleases as usual, but if I had any sort of claim on you, I’d never let you slip away.”
Roseanna turned to the women and decided to take charge. To the first she said, “I’m cold. Please get one of the squires to light this fire.” She turned to the second woman. “While the baron is at breakfast, I too shall dine.”
The servants were in a bit of a quandary. They had received orders from Ravenspur to find her clothing and also to chaperone her.
Tristan looked more amused than ever. “It seems two servants aren’t enough for you, my lady.”
“It seems not,” she said coldly.
“Then allow me to be of service. I shall go in search of a gown and shoes. My brother doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“In that case you’d best carry out the orders he gave you to get the escort readied. I assure you, you can be of no service to me, sir.”
He bowed mockingly, “Well, that’s put me in my place. But somehow I don’t think you’ll manage Roger quite so easily.”
When Ravenspur returned, he found Roseanna curled before the fire, finishing her breakfast. His heavy eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why aren’t you dressed?” he demanded.
The serving woman hurried into the chamber with a pair of dainty boots in her hand and a silk dress over her arm. “One of the ladies was kind enough to let me have this, yer lordship,” she said breathlessly.
He lifted the low-cut gown disdainfully. “I saidmodestattire!” He threw the dress to the back of the fire. The old woman gasped in horror. “Get some table linen and fashion a gown. I want it to cover her from her chin to her toes. Do I make myself clear, madame?”
Roseanna was bubbling into a froth of fury, and it took all her willpower to stop herself from flinging herself upon him. She had an overwhelming desire to strike him, and she was teetering dizzily on the edge of attack when a little voice told her that her best weapon against him would be feigned indifference. Still, she was determined to address him in an insolent voice. “Are you finished giving your orders?”
His dark, assessing eyes swept over her. “I haven’t begun. Shall I give you your orders now?” he asked in a deceptively pleasant voice.
“No one gives me orders, my lord,” she informed him.
“That is quite obvious. You are an undisciplined child who has been allowed to run wild. If your family thinks it can palm you off onto me, they are sadly mistaken.” He swept her with his dark eyes. “I find most high-born ladies to be shrews and harpies.”
“Is that why you consort with prostitutes?” she shouted.
The servingwomen gasped. His dark eyes looked deeply into hers for a moment. “It is,” he said evenly. He did not allow himself to smile until he had turned his back on her. He took one of his cloaks from the wardrobe and turned to the gaping servants. “I set you both a task; I want her dressed.” Then his gaze settled on Roseanna once more. “You will need this. Yesterday’s storm ended the summer weather. There is a distinct autumn chill in the air.” He bowed. “I shall await you in the courtyard.”
Roseanna surveyed herself with dismay. Never in her life had she been dressed in such a plain, modest, unbecoming garment! She pulled off the headcovering as the servingwomen looked on with pursed lips. Briskly she braided and looped her long dark hair and bound it back in a style every bit as plain as the gown. She had been utterly determined not to wear the cloak he had given her, but the thought of facing ten knights dressed as she was made her change her mind. She wrapped the cloak around herself and lifted its great length from about her ankles so that she would not trip. Emerging from the hunting lodge, she walked with her head held high past the ten mounted knights who would act as her escort. Ravenspur led out two horses, his eyes glinting with amusement. “If you are afraid of horses, my lady, I will take you up before me.”
