Lord Isaac? Was this Anna’s father? The man’s hair was streaked with grey, his beard was neatly trimmed. As for the boy, William was disconcerted to note his eyes had been carefully outlined with some black cosmetic.
‘Yes, yes, good to see you, Lord Constantine,’ Lord Isaac said. Perceptive grey eyes ran quickly over William and, equally quickly, dismissed him. ‘I am looking for my daughter, she was seen coming this way. I thought she was with you.’
‘She was, my lord.’ Lord Constantine exchanged unsmiling nods with the stripling, who was dark-complexioned with glossy black hair and a beard. ‘Good day, Lord Michael.’
As William’s attention returned to the older man, he became aware of an unsettling sense of familiarity. Lord Isaac’s eyes were similar to Anna’s, they were harder and more calculating, but the colour was the same.
‘Your daughter went through the trees there, my lord,’ Lord Constantine said, directing them towards the path. ‘She will not have gone far.’
‘Thank you. Come, Lord Michael.’
Lord Isaac favoured William with another curt nod before he and his companion stepped back onto the path. The gaggle of servants followed.
‘Lord Constantine?’
Lord Constantine glanced irritably at him. ‘For God’s sake, man, I thought we had established that you and I are to be friends, Constantine will do.’
‘Very well, and you must call me William.’ William watched the two men and the train of servants walk into the trees. ‘I take it that is Lady Anna’s father?’
‘Yes, that is Lord Isaac, the Governor of Heraklea.’
‘And the younger man?’ He must be the reason Constantine looked as though he had been forced to drink a vat of sour wine. Poor fellow, Constantine looked to be in a worse state than William had been when Lady Felisa had spurned him for the knight with the large estates. But if that painted boy was another of Anna’s suitors, he was surely no threat. Perhaps Constantine was not as confident of winning Anna’s hand as William had assumed. ‘Is he one of Lady Anna’s other suitors?’
‘Yes, that is Lord Michael of Brusa. And as you may have gathered, he is, hell fry him, high in Lord Isaac’s favour.’
The path into the trees was empty again. William felt a pang of sympathy for Constantine, courting when one’s heart was engaged was clearly a painful business. And if William felt this bad simply because he understood what the man was going through, he must ensure that, when he next went courting, his heart would not be involved.
‘In the Palace you said that Lady Anna was to be given a choice?’
Constantine sighed. ‘So Lord Isaac has sworn, but Anna is desperate to please him, to make up for their years of estrangement.’
‘You think that will sway her?’
‘Don’t you?’
William stared towards the wooded area, hoping to catch a flash of blue silk. Nothing. Just cypresses, more cypresses and a glimpse of grey—the great walls that protected the Imperial Palace from sea-borne attack.
‘Has Lady Anna met Lord Michael before?’ he asked. He was certain that the painted boy would never appeal to a woman like Anna.
‘I have no idea.’
‘I assume he has land?’
Constantine gave him a disgruntled look. ‘He has land, a lineage that goes back to Rome, bulging coffers and a face to rival that of Adonis.’
‘It is a painted face and one she does not know. Surely she will choose someone for whom she feels some warmth?’
The idea of Anna marrying Constantine was faintly unpalatable, however, the thought of her marrying Lord Michael was far worse—it completely repelled him. Lord Michael might be pleasant enough, William had no way of knowing, so how was it he found the thought of Anna marrying the fellow so unacceptable? Clearly, he was sympathising with Constantine far too much.
‘Perhaps marriage is best when it is a matter of duty,’ he said. ‘Perhaps it should be undertaken for dynastic reasons, for building up one’s lands, one’s fortune. It should not be confused with love.’
Constantine sent him a strange look. ‘Some warmth between a husband and wife is desirable though, you just said as much.’
‘Yes.’ William felt at odds with himself. Love was what had happened in the stables between Claire and himself. Love was simply a pretty word for the carnal pleasures to be found in the arms of a willing woman—it was no more than that.
‘Anna will choose to please her father.’ With a sigh, Constantine squared his shoulders. ‘She wants to make amends for earlier mistakes.’
‘Such as leaving for Rascia to serve the Princess.’
Constantine gave him a searching look. ‘I see she has talked to you at some length.’
William grunted. The memory of Anna fast in his arms in the cistern was suddenly as vivid as a freshly painted icon—it could have happened mere moments ago. She had been so warm, so soft, so…giving… Would she be as yielding in Lord Michael’s arms? In Constantine’s? He frowned—the thought of Anna in anyone else’s arms was repugnant.
Turning abruptly, he scuffed one of his new boots against the bottom step of the ruined hall. ‘About my accommodation,’ he began, making a show of examining the walls, ‘I take it no one has plans for this ruin?’
Whatever the building had once been, its days of grandeur were long gone, decay was setting in. Tumbles of brick and stone lay at the foot of the walls, yellow weeds flowered in cracks between stones. The rendering was fractured and eroded with tentacles of ivy crawling across it.
‘It’s not likely—it’s been empty for years.’
‘Fine, it will suit me very well.’
‘William, it’s derelict!’
‘I am a knight, a horse-soldier.’ Walking round the side of the building, William found that some of the rubble had been piled in front of a worm-eaten door. As a crude attempt to block entry, it was pitiful. Clambering onto the rubble, he leaned experimentally against the door. The wood creaked and moved about an inch. He straightened. ‘As General Alexios would doubtless inform you, soldiers are trained to make camp anywhere.’
Constantine was watching him, hands on his hips. A dark brow lifted. ‘You plan on bedding down in here?’
‘I assure you I have bedded down in worse places.’ William gave Constantine a straight look. ‘It will save you the trouble of having to bribe a Palace official to find me a bed.’
‘It’s not such a bad idea,’ Constantine said, thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if the couches are still inside?’
‘Couches?’
‘This was once a reception hall, it is known as the Hall of the Nineteen Couches.’
William lifted a brow. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. Envoys and ambassadors from every corner of the Empire and beyond were received here. The Emperor presided over feasts where he and his guests ate from couches in the Roman fashion, hence the name.’
William grinned. ‘Judging by the state of the outside, I’ll wager the couches are long decayed. Do you care to find out?’
Constantine scrambled up beside him and together they put their shoulders to the door.
* * *
‘My lord!’ Anna sank into a deep curtsy next to a tall cypress, scarcely daring to look into her father’s face. The moment she had both longed for and dreaded was upon her. Was her father ready to forgive her? She prayed for reconciliation, but he would be irritated that she had failed to meet him yesterday—that would surely weigh against her. However, after what she had learned from Constantine—that her father was ready to grant her the husband of her choice—she had reason to hope.
Warily, she looked up. A young man was standing with some servants by another cypress. Anna had eyes only for her father and when he held out his hands to her, she slowly placed hers in his.
‘You look well, daughter.’ Her father raised her, keeping her at arm’s length so as to look her up and down. ‘If a little…unkempt.’
Anna grimaced, naturally, her father would notice the tear in her
gown. I should have changed my gown, only there was no time because I was afraid that if Constantine and I did not hurry after William, we would lose him…
However, it was heartening that her father had not mentioned their missed meeting. It was possible he was unwilling to chastise her with the young man listening. She rushed into speech. ‘I wasn’t expecting to meet you until this afternoon, but it is good to see you, my lord.’
And so it is. The thought startled her. She studied him. My father, Lord Isaac, Governor of Heraklea. Two years had passed, years that had left their mark on her father’s features. The streaks of white were more plentiful in her father’s hair, his beak of a nose was more pronounced and the lines on his cheeks more deeply graven.
‘Is there peace between us, my lord?’ Anna held her breath, waiting for his reaction. Adept at schooling his expression, her father was a hard man to read. It occurred to her that in her childhood she had had no trouble reading him, the difficulty had begun after
Erling’s death. He had accused her of excessive grieving for someone who was ‘only a slave’, he had told her such emotions for a slave were unfitting.
After that, everything twisted between us.
Her father made a growling sound low in his throat. ‘Peace? We shall see.’ He squeezed her fingers and a smile flickered briefly across his lips. It was gone so quickly she was uncertain whether she had imagined it. ‘You are a woman now, let us see if you have learned to act like one.’
‘I shall do my best, my lord. I did not like…displeasing you. It is just that…Lord Romanos… I could not like Lord Romanos for a husband.’
Tucking her arm in his, her father nodded. ‘He frightened you.’ His expression was so benign, Anna could only stare. Has he changed so much? Is that possible?
‘Yes, Father, he did.’
When the young man standing by the cypress made a movement, Anna realised he had been listening to them with an intensity that was far from casual.
Who is he?
He looked somewhat younger than William. Like William, he was impossibly handsome, but there the resemblance ended—where William was fair, he was dark.
This boy is beautiful, a dark angel. A cold shiver ran down Anna’s back. Is this one of the suitors Constantine mentioned? Does Father think to please me by giving me a beautiful boy?
The young man stepped forward. ‘Lord Isaac?’
Her father waved him aside. ‘I should like a moment with my daughter, if you please, Lord Michael.’
‘My lord.’ The boy returned to stand with the servants by the cypress.
Saints, that boy has painted his eyes! And he is still staring, he must be one of the suitors… .
Anna’s heart lurched. I do not want to kiss this boy, I will never want to kiss him. If only it were William standing there…
‘You should not have run away,’ her father was saying. Placing his hand on hers, he led her a little way down the path, back towards the Hall of the Nineteen Couches.
‘I was not ready for marriage, my lord, and when I heard that the Princess needed more ladies…I…I am sorry, my lord.’
‘I trust you performed your duties well?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘And I am sure that the Princess taught you the importance of obeying your betters?’
Anna stared fixedly at a laurel bush growing next to the path, she loathed it when her father spoke in this vein. He had never done so when she was a child, it was only later, after everything had soured between them…
‘Yes, Father.’ Lord Michael was following them at a discreet distance. Shivering, Anna drew her cloak tightly about her, she hoped she was wrong about him and that he was not one of her suitors. Her instincts told her that this boy did not like women. It was common knowledge that some men preferred male lovers, Anna was sure that Lord Michael was one such man. Anna had never given the matter much thought, it was simply how things were, but she had no wish to be married to someone who took men as lovers. ‘Why is he staring?’
‘Later. First I will hear of your time with the Princess. Do you know why she was so reluctant to come home?’
Anna felt every muscle go rigid. The Princess is reluctant to come home because she is hiding an illegitimate child, a child whose very existence would likely shock the entire Palace. The Princess is grieving for Prince Peter, and, like me, she is afraid of being forced into a marriage she has no taste for…
Anna looked her father straight in the face, for the sake of both the Princess and Katerina, she must lie, and lie convincingly. ‘I do not know, my lord,’ she said. ‘Princess Theodora does not always confide in me.’
Her father came to a halt. The Hall of the Nineteen Couches came into view at the top of the rise. It looked deserted, there was no sign of William or Constantine. Where have they gone?
‘Anna, don’t tell me you fell out with the Princess? In the light of the General’s coming enthronement, that would be most unfortunate.’
‘My lord?’
Her father made an impatient sound. ‘Think, Anna. Princess Theodora is a member of the Doukas family. General Alexios is married to Irene Doukaina.’
‘My lord, I do know that.’
‘Good, then you will appreciate that if the Doukas dynasty were powerful before the coup, the General’s accession can only confirm their influence. It would not be wise to offend them.’
‘Father, I have not fallen out with anyone!’
‘That is a blessing.’ He sighed. ‘I was afraid your impetuous nature had led you into trouble again, and that you might need help to be reconciled with the Princess.’
Impetuous? Her father though she was impetuous? It was a sobering thought. Anna had never thought of herself as being particularly impetuous. However, she knew what this was really about—her father was concerned about his standing at Court. Status had always been important to him, he did not wish her to do anything that might jeopardise his position as Governor of Heraklea. Anna understood that, but she wished that, for once, her father would not place so much importance on what others thought of him.
She shook her head. ‘The Princess and I remain on good terms.’
‘I am glad to hear it. So, the Princess has returned to Constantinople with but one lady in attendance. You.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘And rather than falling out with you, she does in fact hold you in high regard?’
‘I believe so.’
‘Yet you expect me to believe she does not confide in you?’
Anna put up her chin. Inside she was squirming, she hated having to lie, particularly when she wanted to mend things between them. ‘Consider this, my lord. If Princess Theodora were to confide in me, I would not betray that confidence.’ And that is as much truth as I am prepared to give you.
A gull swooped past. The lines deepened round her father’s mouth—he was debating whether to chastise her for being obstructive, or to praise her for doing the Princess’s bidding.
‘Anna, it is true that I was both angered and shamed when you left. I was angered because you had disobeyed me and shamed because you forced me to break the betrothal agreement I had made with Lord Romanos.’
Anna focused on a pebble on the path, nudging it with the toe of her shoe. ‘My lord, I regret angering you, but I saw no other way forward.’
‘Let us not rake over old coals. It pleases me to say that I have heard good reports of your service to the Princess. What troubles me today is news that Princess Theodora has vanished from her apartments. The most extraordinary stories are flying about, linking the Princess with Commander Ashfirth of the Varangian Guard. Anna, where is the Princess? Surely she cannot have taken up with that barbarian?’
Anna’s breath caught at her father’s tone, the very way he pronounced the word ‘barbarian’ was an insult to all foreigners. He made it sound as though anyone born outside the Empire was incapable of behaving honourably. She knew otherwise.
‘Father, how can you speak in that
manner? Particularly when the Princess was to have married Prince Peter?’ As a foreign prince, Peter of Rascia had been a barbarian. His betrothal to Princess Theodora had been a political necessity—surely even her father would think twice before criticising it?
Her father’s brows came down, his mouth worked. ‘The Princess had a lucky escape when the Prince of Rascia was killed,’ he muttered.
‘Father!’ Temper was beginning to get the better of her—she must not give into it. Gritting her teeth, she struggled for control.
Her father made a dismissive gesture. ‘Enough of this. You are trying to distract me and I will not be distracted. Answer my question, if you please. Has Princess Theodora taken up with Commander Ashfirth?’
What can I say? I cannot confess that the woman everyone believes to be Princess Theodora is an impostor. Nor can I confess that the real Princess does not intend to return home for some weeks because she has had an illegitimate baby!
On the other hand, if I confirm that the Princess is lodging with Commander Ashfirth, an outraged Court will descend upon them… I doubt Katerina could cope with the questions.
Her father’s eyes were boring into her when it occurred to her that part of the truth might satisfy him while she worked out what to do. Remain calm, do not let him goad you into losing your temper, you will achieve nothing.
‘I have not seen the Princess this morning, my lord. Yesterday whilst out in the City we had the misfortune to cross paths with some of the rougher elements of the General’s army—’
‘The barbarian element, no doubt.’
Anger was a tight fist in Anna’s stomach. Taking a steadying breath, she nodded. Remain calm. ‘They were German mercenaries, I believe. The Princess and I were separated. Fortunately, the Princess found her way back to the Boukoleon, but I was forced into hiding. I only returned to the apartment this morning, by which time the Princess had…she had gone out again.’
Her father’s lips tightened, his eyes dropped to that betraying tear in her skirt. ‘You took no real hurt?’
She managed a smile. Did her father care—did he really care? Or was this once again about appearances, about her value as a bride? ‘No, my lord, I was not hurt. A Frankish knight came to my aid.’
Chained to the Barbarian Page 14
