The siege was over, the attackers vanquished. Rolfe was unhurt, the man told her, and he would return soon—as soon as a christening could be arranged at Harrow for his brother’s newborn heir.Jasmine looked about the hall the day before Rolfe’s expected return. Not without difficulty, she’d managed to establish her rule and order his servants to clean and lay new rushes. Old Martin deserved not the title of steward, for he did naught but laze about the hall while the servants had done as they would until she demonstrated that failure to obey would result in swift, painful consequences.She watched with satisfaction while two servants whitewashed the sooty wall above the wide open hearth and another maid scoured the high table where Rolfe would eat. Finally the hall was clean, but it certainly looked shabby compared with her lover’s luxuriously appointed solar. Pity she could do no more with the tools at hand. Ascending the narrow curved stair, Jasmine looked forward to a bath, and to studying yet another page of Rolfe’s erotic picture book.In the large oaken tub where she and Rolfe had bathed together before he’d shown her paradise, Jasmine let warm water lap against her while she inhaled the steamy scent of roses from the oil she’d massaged into her breasts and belly.
