Joining by Johanna Lindsey Page A

pleased with yesterday, when he had thought Jhone was his betrothed. To look at them now, there was no difference; Milisant was as pleasing to the eye as her sister was. ’Twas only when she opened her mouth to speak … And in that, there was a mighty big difference in the two women.
    “’Tis a matter of comfort and ease of movement,” she told him. “Why do you not try wearing a bliaut and chemise and see if you like all that material dragging at your legs with every step.”
    “You exaggerate. Priests do not find difficulty with their robes.”
    “Priests do not hunt on foot.”
    He chuckled, conceding that point with a nod. She stared at him curiously for a moment, as if he had surprised her.
    That worried him, making him add what was so very obvious. “Nor do women need to hunt.”
    “There is need … and then there is need. If I need explain the difference to you, then you are not like to grasp it.”
    “If you are trying to say that hunting is the only thing you can find happiness in, you are correct. I would not be able to grasp that notion—nor would I believe it to be true.”
    She appeared thoughtful. “Most men retain their opinions no matter if proof to the contrary is served them on a golden platter. Black will still be white and white will still be black because
they
say so—at least if that differing of opinion involves a woman. Do you disagree? Or have you not just proven that very thing?”
    He almost laughed. If she were not being so serious about this, he would have. Did she really believe that, that men would adhere to their opinions despite proof to the contrary, regardless of who offered the proof?
    “Methinks you exaggerate. I merely note that there are many things that can make one happy. To base all of one’s happiness on a single thing is—silly.”
    “And if I say it is not silly, you will, of course, disagree, because your opinion is the only correct opinion, is that not so?”
    “’Twould seem you are determined to argue with me, no matter what I say.”
    “Nay, ’twould seem you are determined to disagree with me, no matter what I say.”
    “Not so. I agreed priests would find difficulty with their robes if they hunted.”
    She snorted. “For all of five seconds you agreed, only to point out that women would not find the same difficulty because they do
not
hunt.”
    He was near to growling now. “Why do you not concede that ’tis not the woman’s place to be the provider?”
    “Mayhap because not every woman has someone providing for her.”
    “An untruth! If not the men of her family, then the men of her husband’s family. If neither of those, she has her king to provide her a guardian.”
    Milisant rolled her eyes. “You speak of ladies of property, who are no more than tools of bargaining—for a man. What of the women of the village or towns who lose their kin? Why do so many of them turn to begging or whoring to put food on their table? When they could as easily learn to hunt their own food?”
    He was now red faced. “Are we correcting the ills of the world now at this sitting? I had not realized a mere compliment on how fetching you look would turn to a deep discussion on the inequities of—”
    “Faugh, you do not want to have a discussion, you want merely an echo of your own opinions,” she said in disgust. “Very well, shall we discuss the food instead? Or mayhap the weather? Are those safe enough subjects for you? On
those
subjects you might get anagreement from me, but do not count on any others—”
    “Enough!” he snapped. “Mayhap we can agree to a little silence, ere my appetite grows as cold as the food is like to be now.”
    She smiled at him. “Certainly, Wulfric. Far be it from me, a mere woman, to disagree with you.”
    As he glowered at her last response, he had to wonder, after all of that, if her intention had not been, from the very start, to turn his mood sour. If so, she surely had a unique and quite skilled knack for doing