A Place Beyond Courage Read Online Free

lord marshal,’ Damette breathed. ‘You will have no cause for complaint on any score . . . I promise you.’
     
    Languorous in the aftermath of twice-taken release, feeling as if all sharp edges and discontents had been smoothed out, John folded his hands behind his head and studied the rafters. ‘How did you know to call me “my lord”?’ he asked curiously.
    ‘Because your deputy told me your father was dead . . . I am sorry for that.’ Damette raised herself on one elbow. A rosy flush darkened her breasts and throat, revealing that the pleasure had not been his alone.
    He said nothing. She hesitated, then leaned over and cupped his face on the side of her hand. ‘I am not sorry you have his position though.’
    The haze of satisfaction cleared from his eyes. ‘It’s no use casting your line in my direction, sweetheart; I’m not a man for taking mistresses. I know too much to be snared by such bait.’
    She laughed and bent to kiss the corner of his mouth. ‘You may have the face of a sinning angel and a way between the sheets, but I’m not angling beyond mutual interest. You would demand too much - and so would I.’
    ‘That’s about the measure of it - especially the last part.’ He stroked her hair to keep the moment light, then sat up and reached for his clothes.
    ‘You shield yourself from people, don’t you?’
    John donned his shirt, rapidly followed by braies and hose. ‘Show me a courtier who doesn’t.’ Padding from the bed, he returned to the trestle and the pile of work still waiting. He was tired, but he had learned to cope without sleep long ago. His father had been wont to say that the time to slumber was in the grave, and John had embraced the philosophy with a whole heart. He looked across at her. ‘I don’t have to shield myself,’ he said. ‘The face I wear is the face beneath.’
    She rolled on to her stomach and turned towards him, slender ankles raised and crossed, dark hair spilling around her shoulders. ‘You’d be surprised.’
    ‘At what?’ He sat down and began work.
    ‘At what does lie beneath when you are put to the test. Can I stay until morning?’
    ‘As long as you’re quiet.’
    ‘I promise not to snore.’
    ‘That’s not what I meant.’
    She made a face at him and John almost laughed, but managed to preserve an offhand demeanour.
    Borrowing his comb from the coffer, she began to tidy and braid her hair, completely unselfconscious in her nudity. John occasionally glanced and admired. Firm, full breasts; long legs. Damette wouldn’t stay long among the whores. She would attract another patron soon enough.
    She worked at a tangle. ‘I know you do not want me to interrupt you,’ she said, ‘but you might be interested to know I spent two nights with Geoffrey of Anjou.’
    John lowered his quill and eyed her sharply.
    ‘He’s a handsome youth, the Empress’s husband,’ she said. ‘Fast to the finish as you’d expect of his years, but a fresh bolt in the bow as soon as his first one’s spent.’ She gave him an eloquent smile before contemplating the ends of her gathered hair. ‘He says he’s thinking of going on pilgrimage to Compostela and that he won’t have his wife back for all the gold in England.’
    ‘You’re certain he said that?’
    ‘Of course I am. He’s still too young to have learned discretion. If a man has finished futtering and does not wish to sleep, then often he wants to talk . . . and I am a very willing listener.’
    John shook his head. ‘Henry won’t let him go to Compostela, at least not until this impasse over the marriage has been resolved. He needs his daughter and Geoffrey to beget heirs.’
    ‘Then perhaps Geoffrey is forcing the King’s hand, or perhaps he is teasing. I gained the impression he’s the kind who likes to throw sticks in the fire for the pleasure of watching them burn.’ She secured her braid with a red silk ribbon.
    John gave her a speculative look. ‘You didn’t want to make a bid to