rarity.'
Nicholaa didn't know what to say next. She couldn't stop looking at him. He didn't want to stop staring at her. They stayed that way for what seemed an eternity. The spell was broken when Clarise's laughter reached them. Royce was the first to move. He grabbed Nicholaa's hand and led her to the table.
She shook her head in exasperation when she saw that Baron Hugh had Clarise pinned up against the far wall. The big Norman was diligently nibbling on her ear, and Clarise was thoroughly enjoying his attention until she realized her mistress was watching her. The servant quickly disengaged herself from Hugh's hold and scurried into the buttery. Hugh let out a loud sigh of regret. 'She's leading me a merry chase,' he muttered as he took his place.
Royce sat at the head of the table. Nicholaa took her place to his right. Hugh settled himself across from her.
Alice waited at the entrance to the buttery for her mistress to give the signal. The servant had already set the table with three silver goblets. As soon as Nicholaa motioned to her, Alice rushed over with a fat jug and filled each goblet with dark ale. She filled Royce's goblet to the rim. He didn't reprove her because he thought she was simply eager to please him.
Nicholaa immediately lifted her goblet and suggested a toast. She kept her hand turned away from Royce so he wouldn't notice the scars. She took a long drink, too, because she didn't want her husband to become suspicious.
She didn't stop after just one toast, either. No, she offered another and another until she'd given a salutation to everyone in England except the stable master. She was about to toast him, too, when bread trenchers filled with quail and pheasant were placed on the table. Thick loaves of freshly baked black bread and wide wedges of yellow cheese came next. Additional salt had been added to the meat to increase Royce's thirst. Nicholaa forgot about the added salt, though. Her head was muddled from all the ale she'd already swallowed. She ate a good portion of her supper, drinking heartily after each bite.
It didn't take Royce long to realize Nicholaa was up to something. Each time he took a drink, Alice was there to refill his goblet. He suspected that the two women were in league together. They kept giving each other knowing looks.
His wife wanted to get him drunk, but he was aware of her plan. Each time his goblet was refilled, he poured half of the ale into Nicholaa's cup. She couldn't refuse his generosity, and after a while she was too confused to notice. Within an hour, Nicholaa's eyelids were drooping and she was having extreme difficulty staying on her stool. Her elbow rested on the table, her head propped up in her hand.
'I believe this is the worst supper I've ever tried to eat,' Hugh announced. 'It's more salt than meat, Royce.'
'Aye, it is,' Royce agreed.
Hugh stood up. 'I'm weary this evening. I'm taking to my bed. Now where did sweet Clarise wander off to?'
'She's hiding in the buttery,' Nicholaa blurted out. She then apologized for the supper and bade Hugh a good night. She didn't realize how slurred her words were or how disheveled she looked. Her hair had fallen forward and hid half her face. She was fully occupied trying to keep her head from slipping off her hand.
Royce was exasperated with her. He waited until Hugh had left the hall, then motioned for Alice to leave and turned his attention to his wife. Just as he was about to demand that she explain her actions, she shifted and almost fell off her stool. Royce caught her before she hit the floor, then leaned back and pulled her onto his lap.
The room was spinning around Nicholaa. She reached up to put her arms around his neck, then changed her mind. She awkwardly tried to hide her hands in the folds of her gown.
'What are you doing?' he asked when she continued to pull at her gown. 'Hiding my hands from you.'
'Why?'
'I don't want you to see my scars. They're ugly,' she announced. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder. 'You smell nice, Royce. Like the outdoors.'
Royce ignored the compliment and reached around her to take hold of her hands. He forced her to open her fists, then looked at the marks. He thought her skin must still feel tender, because the palms were bright red.
When he didn't immediately tell her what he was thinking, she whispered, 'They're ugly, aren't they?'
'No.'
She leaned away from him so she could see if he was teasing her or telling her the truth.
Royce almost laughed when he saw her disgruntled expression. A lock of hair hung over her left eye, and she looked half asleep.
'You have to tell me the truth,' she announced. 'They're ugly.'
'No, they aren't ugly.'
'They aren't pretty.'
'No.'
'Then what are they?'
His smile was filled with tenderness. 'They're just scars, Nicholaa.'
She was appeased. He kissed the frown away from her brow.
She smiled with pleasure. 'I'm no longer perfect,' she said in a cheerful voice that made him want to laugh again. 'What say you to that?' She didn't give him time to answer. 'Do hold still, Royce. You make the room spin when you move like that.'
Since he hadn't moved at all, he didn't know how to correct that problem for her. He was still looking at her hands when he noticed the hard calluses on two of her fingers.
'Where did you get these calluses?' he asked.
The top of her head bumped his chin when she turned to examine her left hand. 'What calluses?' she asked.
She was nearly doubled over in her bid to see her hands. It obviously hadn't occurred to her that she could have lifted her arm.
He controlled his exasperation. 'The calluses on your other hand, Nicholaa.'
He lifted her right hand. She frowned as she stared at her fingers, then smiled. 'Oh, those calluses. They're from the loops, of course. Where else could I have gotten them?'
She'd lost him with that explanation. 'What loops?'
'The ones my two fingers fit through.'
He closed his eyes and prayed for patience. 'But what do the loops belong to, Nicholaa?' he prodded again.
'My sling.'
'Your what?'
She cuddled up against his chest, wondering why he'd gone all tense on her. Then she remembered how she'd felled him with a stone. Since she'd decided to be completely honest with him, she guessed she'd have to confess this transgression.
'I hit you with a stone from my sling, but I already admitted that to you. I wasn't at all sorry, either. I could have killed you if that had been my intent.'
She paused to yawn noisily, then added, 'Thurston taught me how to use a sling. Did you know that?'
He was too busy reacting to her confession to answer her. She'd tried to tell him before, he remembered, but he hadn't believed her. He did now.
'Lord, I'm sleepy,' she whispered.
Royce let out a sigh. He decided to put the matter of the sling aside for now and get to the heart of the matter before his wife passed into a drunken slumber. From the look of her, that wouldn't be long in coming.
'Did you want to get me drunk?' he asked.
'Oh, yes.'
'Why?'
'So I could seduce you.'
She couldn't be more specific than that, he decided. 'You thought you needed to get me drunk in order to seduce me?'
