by Speer, Flora
“I call it fair.” The captain answered William's charge with a roguish grin. “Ye didn't give me much notice of wantin' ta use the Daisy. And, as I just explained, I’d made other plans. Say what ye will, yer not travelin' under authorization from Lord Royce.”
“We will agree to pay half again as much as your usual fare,” Magnus said, “and not a farthing more. The choice is yours. Sail with empty cabins, or take us along and earn extra gold for a trip you are going to make, anyway.”
“If you don’t take us,” William threatened him, “we’ll report your refusal to Lord Royce. You’ve grown wealthy on what he pays you to keep your ship readily available for his purposes. Do you want to lose future business with him?”
Captain Piers surveyed the three men who stood before him. Then he looked at Lilianne. She decided to forego haughtiness in favor of looking as if she expected him to agree.
“It’s vitally important that we return to France as soon as possible,” she said with a bright smile.
“I never could resist a pretty girl,” Captain Piers grumbled. “For half above the usual fare, I'll take ye. Use the same two cabins ye had before.”
“Thank you,” Lilianne said with unconcealed relief.
“We’ll speak again later,” Magnus told the captain, “and make our final arrangements for going ashore, and for our rendezvous when our business is completed.”
“Aye. Have ye baggage? Just yer saddlebags? I expect ye ta supply yer own food, ye know. Well then, take yer things below and stay out o' my way. We sail on the tide, in late afternoon. If ye go ashore again, be back before I'm ready ta cast off, or I'll leave without ye.” With that admonition, he left them.
“Why is he so irritable?” Lilianne wondered aloud. “He was much more pleasant the last time we met.”
“Perhaps he doesn't want the port inspectors to see the cargo he has tucked away in the hold,” Braedon suggested. “Nervousness has been known to make even the most even-tempered man testy, and some ship’s captains do try to avoid paying port taxes.”
“This ship is too small to carry much contraband,” Magnus said, “though I can’t help wondering what the cargo is. Whatever the old rascal is up to, it's probably better if he doesn't reveal his secret to us. Come along, Lilianne, I'll carry your saddlebag to your cabin and see you settled.”
She went down the ladder ahead of him and started for the smaller of the two cabins they had used before. Braedon and William followed Magnus. Lilianne heard a latch rattling and turned to see William trying to open a door that appeared to be stuck.
“It's fastened from within,” William said, frowning. “How can that be, unless someone is inside?”
“Captain Piers said there are no other passengers except us,” Braedon reminded him. “Besides, you have the wrong cabin. Ours is behind the next door.”
“I don't recall ever seeing that door opened,” Magnus said thoughtfully, “not on either of our two previous voyages.”
“Perhaps Captain Piers keeps his personal belongings stored in there,” Lilianne suggested. “I have the impression that he doesn’t have a permanent home on land, that the Daisy is his home.”
“I can ask him about it when we talk later,” Magnus said.
“Do you think it’s important?” Lilianne asked.
“Probably not,” Magnus said, “but I don’t like unexplained details. Here you are. Your cabin is unlocked.” He threw open the door and Lilianne stepped inside. The cabin was just as she remembered it.
Magnus stayed in the doorway, regarding her with a somber expression. The cabin was so small that his very presence crowded her. Or, perhaps, it was the way he was looking at her, as if he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her face. All of the emotions he had evoked in her when last they were alone together suddenly broke free of the restraints Lilianne had placed on her heart. She didn't forget Gilbert; his death was always in the back of her mind, but for just a few moments she indulged herself in the pleasure of contemplating Magnus's great size, his broad shoulders and large, capable hands. She recalled how gentle those hands were when they caressed her naked calves and thighs, how tender his deliberate stroking motions that had revealed to her the sweetness of a woman’s response. She wished he would enfold her in his strong arms again and hold her close – as close as a man could possibly hold a woman.
She knew her face was flushed from her unseemly desire, though she wasn't sure Magnus had noticed her reaction to his nearness and she didn't want to make her longing obvious to him. While trying to think of something ordinary to say she ran her tongue over her dry lips and saw his hard mouth soften slightly.
“Lilianne,” he began, his voice a bit hoarse.
“Magnus, Lilianne, why are you two just standing there?” William called from the door of the cabin the men were to share. “If we expect to eat tonight, we'll have to go ashore again. Do you think we're likely to find decent food at the inn where we left the horses?”
“Yes, probably.”
Magnus answered without turning his head. His gaze remained fixed on Lilianne's mouth until she felt warmth slowly overcoming her, rather like the tide coming in on the beach below Manoir Sainte Inge, with a gentle persistence that would not be denied. No matter what puny mortals did, the tide advanced and ebbed in its own, moon-driven rhythm. Lilianne swayed a little, like seaweed in the oncoming tide, swept toward Magnus by waves of sweet desire.
“Shall we go now?” William asked. “It's well past midday and I’m hungry after our long ride. Mayhap the innkeeper has a kettle of hot stew ready for his customers, and a pitcher of ale to wash it down.”
“Yes.” Magnus still hadn't turned his head in William's direction. He smiled faintly and spoke to Lilianne. “You will come with us.”
“Unlike William, I am not very hungry,” she said, striving to sound calmer than she felt. “We did bring bread and cheese in our saddlebags. I'll stay here and eat some of that.”
“No,” Magnus told her firmly. “You will not remain on the Daisy alone. The four of us will stay together until we sail. That is an order,” he added when she lifted her chin, preparing to object.
Possibly, it was the swift change from melting desire in his eyes to brisk command in his voice that annoyed her. Or perhaps it was the realization that he was right. She didn't like the way Captain Piers had behaved, and she had a strange feeling about the locked cabin. She could think of no sensible reason why the door should bother her, but it did. She grabbed her saddlebag from Magnus's hand and tossed it on the bunk.
“Very well,” she said coldly. “I have agreed to obey your every command, and I will hold to my promise.”
His mouth twitched for a moment, the slight movement giving her the impression that he was trying not to laugh at her. He said nothing, but only started toward the ladder, leaving her to trail after him.
Braedon was already on deck, but Captain Piers was nowhere in sight when they left the ship. Magnus took Lilianne's arm to guide her along the muddy street to the inn, which proved to be frequented chiefly by sailors, dock workers, and women of questionable character. Lilianne looked about with great interest, especially at the women. Contrary to what Erland had so often told her, she did not resemble any of the females she saw.
Once inside the inn, Magnus moved through the common room with his usual swift grace, finding an empty table in a quiet corner and calling to one of the maidservants for food and ale. Lilianne took particular notice of how he made her sit on the bench with himself on one side of her and Braedon on the other. William sat at the end of the table, the only one of them who was not sitting facing the room with his back to the wall. William was perched on a stool close to a narrow door that Lilianne guessed from its location led directly to the stableyard.
“Do you expect us to be attacked?” she asked Magnus. “Is that why we are sitting as we are, with William guarding the nearest exit?”
“Anyone who visits a place such as this must expect to be accosted when in the c
ompany of a beautiful woman,” he responded quietly.
He thought she was beautiful? She looked at him in surprise, watching as one of his rare, sweet smiles spread across his face. Then Braedon said something and Magnus turned his gaze from her and became serious again.
Their food arrived, four pottery bowls filled with a savory meat stew, a basket of brown bread, and a pitcher of ale. Despite her denial to Magnus, after their morning ride Lilianne was as hungry as William claimed to be. She ate with pleasure, though all through the meal she was aware of Magnus crowded next to her on the bench and of the way his thigh occasionally brushed against hers.
It did not take long to finish their meal. William was the first to empty his bowl. He left the table, saying he would arrange for a basket of food that they could take aboard ship.
Magnus laid one hand on Lilianne’s elbow as they rose and started for the door. He certainly was keeping her close, almost as if he feared she'd be snatched away from him. Perplexed by that impression, she glanced around the busy room just as a cloaked and hooded man came down the open stairway from the upper floor. He paid no attention to the midday crowd in the common room, nor did he respond to the farewell called out by one of the maids, instead making his way directly to the door that led to the stableyard. Caught by an odd sense of familiarity, Lilianne stared at the cloaked figure.
Braedon was paying the bill and Magnus was talking to the innkeeper. His hand was still on Lilianne’s elbow, but she was sure he hadn’t noticed the cloaked stranger.
“Magnus, do you see that man?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“Which man? There are quite a few here.” Magnus made a fast survey of the common room.
“He's gone now. He just left by the back door.”
“Who was he?” Magnus asked.
“I don't know. I couldn't see his face, but he was familiar somehow.” She wrinkled her brow, trying to remember.
“It’s possible he's an ordinary guest whose horse is in the stable,” Magnus said, “but if you notice him in the street, point him out to me.”
When she scanned the street outside the inn, she saw no one who looked the least bit familiar. Nor did she see the man along the docks.
“Could he have been one of Royce's spies?” she asked. “If so, he called undue attention to himself by keeping his hood pulled up indoors. And he pushed right past a woman who spoke to him as if she knew him.”
“Hmm.” Magnus was looking with intense interest at each person they passed. “Since only Captain Piers knows we’re in Hythe, it’s unlikely the man is shadowing us. Ah, here comes William with a large basket. I expect to eat well tonight and tomorrow morning, and to have plenty of leftover food to store in our saddlebags.”
By the time they returned to the Daisy, Captain Piers was shouting to his sailors to prepare to cast off the lines.
“I thought ye'd changed yer minds about sailin' wi' us,” he said to Magnus.
“Not a chance.” Magnus caught Lilianne at her waist and swung her off the gangplank onto the deck.
Braedon and William leapt aboard as two of the captain's men started to haul up the gangplank. A moment later the Daisy began to ease away from the wharf on the ebbing tide.
“Unless the wind changes,” Captain Piers remarked, “I'll put ye all ashore in early mornin'.”
“Then, let us complete our arrangements now,” Magnus told the captain with a sternness of purpose that allowed no protest. The two men moved off, Magnus staying close by the captain's side while he oversaw the unfurling of the sails and the setting of their course.
Lilianne lingered on deck to watch as the sailors worked. The wind was brisk and the Narrow Sea was much rougher than it had been during their first crossing. She lifted a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Magnus was there before her, his fingers deftly securing the wayward curl. Startled by his presence when she had thought him elsewhere, she turned to face him.
“Did the captain give you any trouble?” she asked, keeping her tone as light as she could manage with Magus standing so close to her.
“He wouldn't dare,” Magnus said. “Not with Royce to back us up.”
“Royce isn't backing us,” she reminded him. “We are on our own now.”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I prefer it this way.”
“What? You, a renegade spy?” she teased him.
“I’m not a spy. Not really.”
“You keep saying that, yet consider what you are doing.”
“I’m trying to find my brother.”
Seeing how his mouth tightened on those words and how his face assumed the bleak aspect that always reminded her of their first meeting, she sought to restore a softer expression to his harsh features.
“Tell me about Desmond,” she said, “about your childhood and your family.”
“In a world in which many women die young, it's a familiar tale. Our father's first wife died in childbirth. Des and I were the sons of his second marriage. Walcott, our older half-brother, despised us and resented our mother, as such children often do. When our father died, Walcott bid me leave Ashendown as soon as he was buried, and never dare return.”
“What of Desmond?” she asked.
“Des was already gone,” Magnus said. “He was always in trouble. Soon after he was knighted he came to blows with Walcott and fled from Ashendown. He later joined King Henry's service. Spying suits him.”
Lilianne heard the note of bitterness in his voice. She longed to ask more questions about his past, but clearly the memories of his father and brothers were unhappy ones.
While they were talking Magnus had rested his hands on the rail, with Lilianne caught between the rail and his arm. She liked the easy familiarity of her position, with her shoulder against his. They were standing close enough to speak softly, so no one could overhear them. The calls of sailors at work, the banter of conversation between William and Braedon, the cries of a seagull wheeling above the ship, all faded into the distance while she stood within the curve of Magnus's arm. As always, he made her feel safe and protected, and intensely, delicately, female.
“What about your mother?” she asked, hoping he would continue his revelations. “She died in childbirth years ago, while I was still a squire,” Magnus said.
“I'm sorry for that,” she whispered.
Magnus's only response was a shrug that appeared to indicate indifference. But Lilianne, alert to every nuance, noticed how he swallowed hard and kept his gaze on the horizon.
“You loved her,” she said softly.
“Doesn't every boy love his mother?”
“I suppose so, especially in a household where there’s little love otherwise.”
“Aye.”
She heard in the single word and saw in the way he continued to stare into the distance, all that the youthful squire had lost and all the grownup Magnus yearned to have and knew he never would.
In vain did an ordinary household knight dream of possessing land, a house, a wife and children. Men like Magnus lived and died, usually at a young age, in armed service to their liege lords. They took their manly pleasures casually, wherever they could, and the older they grew, the more hard-bitten they became, because there was no one to love them or to think of them as lonely souls with the natural longing for home and hearth that most men avowed. She had known honest knights in her father's service who lived lives similar to Magnus's. Those good knights were gone now, turned out by Erland to seek new masters elsewhere.
For all the pain she suspected Magnus of carrying in his heart, he never gave any indication of self-pity. From what she knew of him, he dealt with his life as it was, not as he wished it could be. Lilianne sighed and moved so she was standing face to face with him.
“You and I are not so different, are we?” she said. “Although, I suppose you can return to being one of King Henry's household knights after your mission is accomplished.”
“If I'm still alive.”
> The simplicity and quiet acceptance of his answer stunned her.
“Do you expect to be killed?” she whispered.
“It's very likely.”
“Not if King Henry and Lord Royce can arrange a peaceful exchange for Desmond.”
“They won't. You heard Sir John's report. King Louis denies all knowledge of Desmond. If my brother is to be freed, Braedon and I will have to do it.”
“You don't know that!”
“I do know it. Royce and King Henry will talk and talk to the French,” Magnus declared, interrupting her attempt to protest with a fierce, yet quiet assurance. “While they talk, Des lies in mortal danger. Unless I find him soon, he will die.”
Magnus shivered, and Lilianne felt the cold tremor in her own bones. In that moment she knew with absolute certainty what she was going to do before they reached France. She hoped and prayed Magnus would accept what she intended to offer.
“There is a peculiar freedom in losing everything,” she said. “I have nothing left except myself. You have told me that you own just a few clothes and your knightly accoutrements. You expect to lose your life soon, a fact that makes earthly possessions meaningless.”
“What are you saying?” He looked deep into her eyes.
“All that I have, I will gladly give to you, Magnus.”
“Stop now.” He looked away, his cheeks a bit flushed. “Do not tempt me. When this is over, you will live on. I will not leave you with shame, or ruin any chance you may have of finding a suitable place.”
“How could your embrace be shameful?” When he did not answer, she said, “You and I are free, Magnus, accountable to no one but ourselves. And we have this one night, before we are caught up in tragedy and in the intrigues invented by kings and spies.”
“I have sworn never to harm you.” His jaw was firmly set in stubbornness.
“I absolve you of your foolish oath and replace it with an oath of my own. I swear that I will know no man's embrace save yours.” She stopped short of confessing that she loved him with all her heart. She didn't want to lay such a burden on him for fear he'd feel himself so bound and obligated to her that he would neglect to see to his own safety. Once her duty to Gilbert was fulfilled, then, she promised herself, she would do everything she could to keep Magnus alive, even if doing so cost her own life. Magnus was worth any sacrifice.
