FORTY-SEVEN
The feel of her soft body pressed against his almost unmanned him, but Lancelot merely tightened his arm around her waist and urged his horse on. The sooner they were married, the sooner he could start satisfying the desire he'd seen in her eyes when they'd kissed. He did not deserve a queen like her, but if he was what she wanted, then who was he to refuse her?
The priest had just sat down to an early dinner when they arrived, but a bag of coins and the promise of a whole goose to replace the stringy leg that sat on his trencher soon had him scrambling up to perform whatever service Lancelot required.
Lancelot repeated the vows after the priest, not remembering a word of them, so intent was he on the fever-bright eyes of Guinevere as she promised to be his wife.
It was
