Severin was bareheaded. His gray tunic and chain mail shone brightly
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beneath the noonday sun. He looked at her then and she saw the weariness in him. Still, his dark blue eyes seemed to brighten. Dame Agnes’s advice sounded a litany in her head, advice soundly agreed to by Alice”When your lord returns, you will smile at him and you will see to his needs. You will show your interest in him and you will applaud him in his recitals. You might consider kissing him, though knowing you, you would probably purse your mouth and make him prefer a sour apple.”
Kiss him. She’d thought a lot about that. She could do it, she knew she could. But what if he flung her away from him? What if he just looked at her and laughed, or told her she bored him or told her that her kiss was just ordinary?
“Severin!”
He looked around. She yelled his name again and he slewed about to look at her. His jaw dropped in utter surprise. She laughed aloud, picked up her skirts, and dashed down the deeply indented steps.
“I am glad you are home,” she shouted, but didn’t stop running. She ran right at him, jumping up to fling her arms around his neck and hug him until she wondered if she were not choking him. She was hanging there, her feet off the cobbled stones of the inner bailey. Then, slowly, finally, his arms came around her. He pressed her tightly against him.
“I am glad you are home,” she said again, kissing his neck, his right ear«£l have missed you. It has been too many days without you. A fortnight. Too long. Welcome home, my lord.” And she kissed his cheek, very close to his mouth.
Then his arms fell away. He clasped her upper arms and gently pulled her off him, setting her feet on the cobblestones. He stared down at her, stared at those damned eyes of hers that were sparkling with delight, that held no secrets to bring a man to his knees, at least that he could see. Aye, it was delight he saw, he wasn’t blind or particularly stupid. And she was lightly flushed, as if embarrassed by her show of affection for him.
“What have you done?” he said finally, not releasing her upper arms. “Have you killed one of my men? Have you poisoned one of our people by mistake? Did MacDear cook Gilbert the goat thinking him a chicken.
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.ij tke damned goat have a boot in his mouth when he is brought out
on a platter?”
She laughed and threw her arms around his chest, hugging him
• htlv “Nay, I have just missed you. Did you not miss me? Just a bit?”
“Aye mayhap a bit. I left Oxborough with a sour feeling in my belly. It lasted many days.”
“I am sorry for it. Come, my lord, I have some wine for you and some delicious capon smothered in almonds. You will tell by the tenderness that it is not Gilbert the goat.” She gave him a side look, then turned quickly, went onto her tiptoes, and kissed his mouth. She was a bit crooked, but it was his mouth. He tasted warm, his lips soft. She hadn’t expected that, but then it was over and she wondered if she remembered aright.
She said, her breath warm against his chin, “Almonds, Severin. Do you not love almonds?”
He was staring at her mouth. “You have killed someone, haven’t you? You have hung our priest. You have burned down the armory. You have destroyed all our winter storage.”
She kissed him again. He was actually jesting with her, wasn’t he? She kissed him again. She hadn’t been wrong. His mouth was incredibly warm, as was his breath.
“Hastings,” he said, then heard his men laughing behind him. He looked up to see Dame Agnes standing on the steps, smiling down at them. “You wish me to take you here in front of all our people?”
She kissed him once more, a fleeting kiss, a girl’s kiss, as all her other
kisses had been, at least those that had landed on his mouth, for indeed,