Читать книгу A Pleasurable Shame - Linda Skye - Страница 8

Chapter Two

The next morning, Giselle proceeded with her daily chores as if a life-changing event had not happened the evening before. Her parents, still grieving the loss of their alliance with Henri, were stunned by her apparent serenity. But Giselle simply shrugged at their concerned looks with a secretive and determined smile, offhandedly commenting that there was nothing that anyone could do to change the lord’s decision. Her baffled parents could only watch as their daughter continued about her tasks as usual, not knowing whether they should be grateful for her good humour or should question her sanity.

But by the time Giselle had ventured out to the manor courtyard to do the week’s baking in the lord’s communal oven, she had already begun to doubt her self-confidence. After all, she was untrained in seduction and had no firsthand experience in the art of pleasuring a man. Could she, by her looks alone, garner the support of such a cold-hearted lord? Or would he simply cast her away once he had sated his lust for her? As she waited for her batch of bread to rise in the warming oven, Giselle wandered the corners of the courtyard and pondered her plight…completely oblivious to the keen eyes that followed her.

Eustache studied the object of his desire from the parapet atop the thick stone walls that encircled the manor courtyard. He watched her graceful gait, her easy smile and her swaying hips. He watched as she paused to help an elderly woman unload her cart of vegetables. He watched her arms reaching to lift the bundles. Eustache paused to consider her arms; they were long and sinewy with lean muscle, so different from the pudgy arms of noble women, whose skin flapped and jiggled with every movement. He imagined gripping her slim arms with his fingers tight around the supple flesh, and his palms flat against her skin. Her limbs would be soft and pliant—but also firm from years of physical labour. For the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to imagine the feel of her flexing under his hands as he leaned over her, covering her body with his.

Yes, he thought as he casually left his post to wander down to the courtyard, Giselle was exactly what he wanted—and what he needed.

He exited the winding staircase to the parapet and strode over to where Giselle stood, idly listening in on peasant girl chatter. He stopped when he stood just behind her, and all the girls fell instantly silent. She seemed to sense his presence, for she stiffened and squared her shoulders. But she did not turn.