Page 24 of Historical Hotties
He grinned. “All of the ladies at the feast thought so, too,” he said. “Mayhap you could try it here, sometime. Gather twenty ponies and have them carry around dishes on their backs. It would be a way to impress any future guests.”
Cassius could tell by the way her eyes were crinkling that she was smiling. “Mayhap,” she said. “But I would give you all of the credit for the idea.”
“It is not my idea. You are, therefore, welcome to use it freely.”
She looked at him, her eyes glimmering with warmth. “If I can find some well-behaved ponies, I might.”
He shook his head. “I have not met many of those, to be sure,” he said. “I’ve met warhorses with better dispositions.”
“That is true,” she said, looking over into the darkened stable area. “We have two ponies here now who are nasty gluttons. One is named Day and one is named Night, and they would rather eat than anything else. If you try to make them do something, they will kick. Night will even lay down and refuse to get up.”
Cassius laughed softly. “Sounds like some men I know of.”
“Sounds like my grandfather when he has had too much to drink.”
They shared a moment of laughter, something that had Cassius increasingly boldened. She had a good sense of humor and he liked that. After a few moments, he sobered.
“May I ask you a question, my lady?” he said.
Dacia shrugged. “That depends on what it is.”
“It has to do with my dog.”
“Then you may ask.”
“Did he hurt your face today and you simply do not want me to see what he did?”
Her expression went from warm to cold, all in a split second. He was positive that she was going to get up and run away, and was quite surprised when she didn’t. Something was forcing her to remain even though her entire body was tense, preparing to take flight.
But she didn’t.
She did, however, lower her gaze, keeping that apron up, turning her head away from him so he couldn’t look at her.
The defenses were up again.
“Nay,” she said after a moment. “My face is not injured.”
“That is good,” he said, trying to look her in the eyes. “Then I can only assume you are covering such magnificent beauty that for me to gaze upon it would immediately make me your devoted slave for life. Is that it?”
He heard her sigh faintly. “Sir Cassius,” she said. “I like speaking to you very much, but I do not wish to speak about…this.”
“About my becoming your devoted slave?”
He could see, even from a side view, that she had rolled her eyes. “Nay,” she said. “About… the apron. I… I am very modest with men I do not know, and this is part of that modesty. Suffice it to say that it is simply my way. It always has been.”
The mood could have taken quite a serious turn there, but Cassius didn’t let it. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t particularly concerned with whatever lay beneath that apron.
“Then you do not want to make me your devoted slave for life?”
She was embarrassed, uncomfortable, but his charm had her chuckling in spite of herself. “That seems to be all you care about.”
“It would change my entire life.”
He could hear her chuckle. “I am afraid that it simply would not work out,” she said. “The king might become angry if I stole you away from him.”
“Mayhap,” he said, thinking that if she was willing to joke about it, then mayhap she understood that he wasn’t being critical of whatever was beneath the apron. “But you are much prettier than he is. He would understand.”
She looked at him, then. “I am not sure how you can say that when all you can see are my eyes.”
