Besieged and Betrothed

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘He said he had a flame-headed firebrand for a daughter. Foolishly I thought he was exaggerating.’

  ‘Truly? He said that?’

  He narrowed his gaze, struck by the flicker of uncertainty in hers. Apparently what her father had said about her really mattered, as if she hadn’t known how he’d felt. Strange, but he’d had the impression they were close. Or had been anyway...

  ‘Something like that. I forget the exact words.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her expression wavered. ‘Did he say it like it was a bad thing?’

  ‘A bad thing?’ The question took him by surprise. ‘No, I wouldn’t say that...’

  He leaned back against the wall, stalling for time as he wondered what exactly he would say. Generally he favoured the truth, no matter how blunt, but this was hardly the time for discussing her father’s fears for her future. He certainly wasn’t in any position to offer advice. Even if he wasn’t tied up, he was the last person in the world to talk to about any kind of paternal relationship.

  ‘He said he’d like to introduce us one day.’ That was true, he recalled with a jolt of surprise, though as to why William had said it, he couldn’t remember.

  Her mouth dropped open. ‘You mean you were actually friends with him?’

  ‘For my part, yes. I told you we fought together at Lincoln, but we spent a lot of time on the march talking, too. He had a way of making people talk. He was one of the cleverest men I ever met.’ He paused meaningfully. ‘I should have known better than to underestimate his daughter. I won’t make the same mistake twice.’

  She studied him intently for a moment as if considering whether or not to ask something else, before drawing up a stool.

  ‘Are you hungry? We only have pottage, but I can ask one of the guards to fetch you some if you want?’

  He had to stop himself from laughing again. Of all the questions he’d anticipated, that hadn’t been one of them. She was certainly one of a kind. Now that she’d taken him prisoner, she seemed more concerned with his well-being than in interrogating or making any demands of him. She looked as if she’d rather close her eyes and go to sleep instead, though if the hour were really as late, or as early, as he suspected, then it wasn’t long until dawn. Which meant that they were almost out of time. If he were going to convince her to surrender, then he had to hurry.

  ‘You haven’t taken many men captive, I presume?’

  ‘Why?’ Her expression turned guarded. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s not usual to care so much about your prisoner’s comfort.’

  ‘Oh... No, I’ve never taken anyone prisoner before.’

  ‘Then I’m honoured to be your first.’ He was gratified to see a faint blush spread across her cheeks. She’d noticed that sarcasm at least. ‘So what are we doing here, my lady?’

  ‘I’d like to talk.’

  ‘Isn’t that what we were doing yesterday?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Her eyes jumped to his again, the look of exhaustion in them replaced by one of sheer, sudden panic.

  He arched an eyebrow, surprised by such an extreme reaction. ‘You made quite a good defence of Stephen, as I recall.’

  ‘Oh.’ The panic receded slightly. ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Was there something else?’

  ‘No! We talked, that’s all.’

  ‘Then what do you want from me, my lady?’

  He started, struck by the sudden conviction that he’d said those words before and recently. Judging by the vibrant shade of Lady Juliana’s cheeks, she remembered them, too. Her skin was almost the same colour as her hair, as if she were embarrassed about something, but what? Just what exactly had happened between them? Surely none of the things he thought he remembered...

  ‘I want you to tell your soldiers to go.’ Her voice shook slightly.

  ‘Mmm?’ He was so busy trying to remember that he barely paid any attention to her words. ‘Just like that?’

  ‘Yes. Sir Guian’s, too. Tell them they have until noon to pack up and leave.’

  ‘Or?’

  ‘Or there’ll be consequences.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Consequences!’

  She looked so fierce that his lips twitched involuntarily. ‘You’ll need to be a bit more specific.’

  ‘It’s not funny!’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No, it’s not funny?’

  ‘No, it’s not and, no, I won’t do it. Just no.’

  ‘But you haven’t even considered it!’

  ‘I don’t need to. No.’

  ‘Stop saying no!’

  ‘Then I decline.’

  ‘You might change your mind when you’re hanging by your feet from the battlements!’

  ‘Ah.’ He gave a tight smile. There it was at last, the threat he’d been waiting for. He’d been starting to wonder if she’d even thought of one. ‘It might, though it wouldn’t make any difference. My men have their orders already.’

  The colour seeped from her face in an instant. ‘What orders?’

  ‘The ones I gave them before we met on the drawbridge. I told you I intended to capture Haword today, though I admit this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.’

  ‘You can still countermand the order.’

  ‘I could, but it might look a little coerced if I’m hanging from the battlements.’

  ‘You don’t think your men will disobey orders to save you?’

  ‘I think they know what will happen to them if they do. I don’t tolerate disobedience, my lady. Not for any reason.’

  ‘Not even to save your life?’

  ‘Those are my rules. What kind of commander would I be if I changed them simply to save myself?’

  ‘I’ll tell Sir Guian, then.’ She sounded desperate this time. ‘He’ll call off the attack. He never wanted to fight anyway.’

  ‘True, but I think he’d enjoy the spectacle of me hanging by my feet too much to do anything to stop it. Besides, my men don’t take orders from anyone else. With or without Sir Guian’s permission, they’re coming.’

  She shot to her feet so quickly that her stool toppled backwards, landing with a clatter on the floorboards. There were no rushes, he noticed, something else they must have run out of. After four months of siege, it appeared that both castle and chatelaine were reaching the end of their tether. He could see tension in every line of her body, as if she might snap at any moment.

  ‘What difference would it make even if they did retreat?’ He kept on pushing, hardening his heart against the bizarre urge to offer comfort instead. ‘You’d only buy yourself a few days, a week at the most, before the Empress sends them back again.’

  ‘Maybe that’s all I need.’

  It was only a murmur, but enough to make his brows snap together at once. Was that why she was so determined to hold out then, because she was waiting for reinforcements? The last he’d heard, Stephen’s forces had been busy fortifying coastal defences against the threat of Angevin landings, but perhaps she knew something he didn’t. If Stephen were heading back into Herefordshire, then it made capturing Haword even more vital. In which case, he had to persuade her to surrender now...

  ‘What’s that?’ She twisted her head at a clamouring sound from outside, the clanking of metal over the dull hum of voices.

  ‘Take a look.’

  He nodded towards the window and she ran towards it, unlatching the shutters and flinging them wide. Even from across the room he could hear her sharp intake of breath.

  ‘What are they doing?’

  ‘Hard to say from here, but at a guess I’d say they’re preparing for battle. I’d suggest that your men do the same.’

  ‘But I don’t want to fight!’

  ‘Then surrender. My offer still stands.�
��

  She spun around, eyes widening with amazement. ‘You’d forgive me after I drugged you?’

  ‘Apparently so.’ He surprised himself with the answer. He could forgive her, though mercy alone knew why. ‘Although I think we can keep that part between ourselves.’

  She stared at him mutely for a few seconds, her expression veering between defiance and uncertainty, before she reached into the folds of her gown and drew out a slim, though still lethal-looking dagger.

  ‘No.’ Her face took on a look of resolve. ‘I’m the chatelaine and this is still my castle. We’re going to the battlements.’

  Chapter Seven

  Lothar watched her approach in silence, wondering just how badly he’d misjudged her, before she reached down to his ankles and sliced through the rope bindings.

  ‘Time for my swing over the battlements?’ He lifted an eyebrow sardonically. ‘Am I allowed to wear my boots at least?’

  She hesitated briefly and then walked to the end of the bed, picking up his leather boots and sliding them warily over his feet, as if she expected him to kick out at any moment.

  ‘Your hospitality’s improving, my lady.’

  She didn’t answer, her face set with a look of grim determination as she made for the door and murmured something to the guards outside. She gestured back into the room as if she were telling them to fetch him, but he stilled their approach with a scowl, heaving himself unsteadily to his feet and making his own way across the floor. After a night spent lying in one position, his legs felt numb, but he’d be damned if he was going to be dragged around like a prisoner. Even if he was about to be hanged from the battlements, he’d bloody well get there himself.

  He reached the doorway at last and leant his shoulder against the jamb for support, surprised to hear a faint sound like moaning coming from elsewhere in the tower. From the way Lady Juliana’s head snapped around, he could tell that she’d heard it, too, though it stopped almost at once.

  ‘I thought I was your only prisoner?’ He looked up and down the gallery suspiciously. As far as he could see there was only one other door. ‘Or do you keep a few of us for your entertainment?’

  ‘It must be one of the guards having a nightmare.’

  She tossed her head and moved on again, leading him part of the way down the stairwell and through a side door out on to the ramparts. He limped stiffly behind her, peering over the walls to survey the battle preparations going on below. The sky was still a gauzy purple, but the army camp was clearly illuminated by the combined light of dozens of campfires, revealing the dark silhouettes of men carrying planks of wood towards the moat, ready to erect makeshift bridges and ladders. Most of them were already armed and armoured for battle. Not long until morning then.

  They climbed up a few steps on to the gatehouse roof and Lady Juliana waved a hand, dismissing her archers.

  ‘You, too.’ She gestured at the guards behind him next.

  Lothar watched them go with surprise. What did she intend to do, haul him over the side of the battlements by herself? Not that any of the men argued with her, he noticed. They obeyed her commands as if she were a seasoned battle commander and not an exhausted-looking slip of a woman clutching a dagger, though he had to admit there was an aspect of inner strength about her, that of the Celtic queen she’d first put him in mind of, the lone woman facing an army below. Under other circumstances, he might have admired her. As it was, all he could think about was getting her to surrender as quickly as possible—preferably before the first volley of arrows hailed down on them. Not that she seemed in any hurry to talk. Just like before, now that she had him where she wanted him, she seemed to have nothing to say.

  ‘You know, if you’re going to hang me over the edge then you might need some help.’ He broke the silence at last.

  ‘I’m not.’

  She said the words in a flat, defeated-sounding voice, standing in the exact same spot where he’d first seen her the day before, though this time she looked desolate, her shoulders slumped so low that he was half-tempted to countermand his orders after all. Glancing down at his feet, he realised he was standing in the same space where her archer had been, as if he were the one protecting her now.

  He shook his head, trying to rid himself of such an unsettling idea. Clearly the poppy was still affecting him, reawakening that strange worried feeling that had made him follow her into the castle in the first place, and he had no time for feelings. She was close to surrender, he could sense it. A few brutal truths ought to do it. If he could bring himself to say them...

  He took a cautious step closer, poised for any sudden movements, half-afraid that she was about to jump over the edge. He wouldn’t be able to catch her with his hands tied behind his back, but he could knock her sideways and pinion her beneath him if he had to. He’d tumble over the ramparts with her rather than let her surrender that way.

  ‘You’re outnumbered, my lady, and your defences won’t hold for more than twelve hours.’

  ‘I know.’ She turned her head, looking vaguely surprised to find him standing so close. ‘But I made a promise.’

  ‘To Stephen?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The man who killed your father?’

  She pursed her lips. ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘No, but I do understand war. Once a battle starts, it’s hard to stop. I can’t vouch for Sir Guian’s men and I can’t change the rules of combat either. If you surrender after the assault begins, they’ll have the right to do whatever they want with your home and your belongings. Your women, too.’

  ‘There aren’t any women.’

  ‘None?’ He frowned. ‘What about your maids?’

  ‘I sent them away for their own safety.’ She gestured vaguely towards the river. ‘There’s a village on the other side. The water protects them better than our walls can.’

  ‘You’re telling me that you’re the only woman here?’ He closed his eyes briefly. ‘Sweet mercy! Surrender. Now.’

  ‘A commander shouldn’t surrender just to save themselves, isn’t that what you said?’ She jutted her chin out, though the flash of fear in her eyes gave her away. ‘Tell me something about my father.’

  ‘What?’ He blinked at the abrupt change of subject.

  ‘I need to know if I can trust you. You said that you were friends. Tell me something that proves it.’

  ‘You want me to prove that I’m trustworthy? I’m not the one who drugged your wine, my lady. Trust works both ways.’

  ‘I know, but...please.’

  She gave him a pleading look and he rolled his eyes in frustration. What next? First she tricked him, then she took him prisoner and now she wanted him to prove himself? Never mind the fact that they were running out of time! Next she’d be asking him to console her...

  ‘He was supposed to marry your aunt.’ He dredged the memory up from somewhere. ‘Your mother was a younger sister, but he said that once he saw her, he couldn’t marry anyone else. He said she had hair like a sunset.’

  ‘Red.’ She lifted a hand to her head self-consciously. ‘But my father liked it.’

  ‘Then we’ve something else in common.’

  He stiffened, taken aback by his own words. Why had he said that? He never said things like that! It had to be her proximity affecting him, recalling his dreams from the previous night. He was so close that he could smell the delicate honeysuckle scent of her hair, or was it her skin? He was tempted to bend closer to find out...

  ‘Surrender.’ He cleared his throat huskily. ‘Now, while you still can. No matter whose side you’re on, Matilda’s or Stephen’s, your father would have wanted you to be safe.’

  ‘That’s all I wanted for him, too.’ Tears welled in her eyes suddenly, bright and glistening like diamond drops. ‘But I failed him. I should never have let him go
.’

  ‘Go where?’

  ‘Into battle!’

  ‘How could you have stopped him?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just should have.’

  ‘He was an experienced soldier, Lady Juliana, a good one, too. He must have thought there was a chance of victory for him to engage Stephen in the first place.’

  ‘There was, but not the way that it happened. I should have realised...’ She bit her lip abruptly. ‘If I surrender, do you promise that my men won’t be harmed?’

  ‘They won’t even be prisoners. They can join Sir Guian’s men or they can leave. Whichever they choose.’

  ‘All right. As long as you understand that every decision I’ve made since the battle has been mine and mine alone. I take full responsibility for everything. Any punishment should come to me.’

  He felt vaguely unsettled again. What did that mean? The solemn way that she said it suggested there was something else, something he didn’t know about, that she took responsibility for.

  ‘I’m not here to punish anybody, Lady Juliana. I told you, the Empress only wants the bridge.’

  Her expression wavered in a way that he couldn’t interpret, before she reached around him, cutting the bindings on his wrists before holding the dagger out in both hands.

  ‘In that case, I surrender.’

  He bent his head in acknowledgement, trying to dampen the hot swell of desire that seemed to have been unleashed in his body as she reached past him. For a fleeting moment, the soft curve of her breast had pressed against his arm and it had been all he could do not to push her up against the battlements right there and then. Now that his hands were free, he could do it, too...

  ‘Does it have personal value?’ He reached for the blade instead, weighing it in one hand as he waited for his blood to cool again.

  ‘The dagger? No, it’s just a—’ She stopped mid-sentence, gaping in shock as he tossed it over the ramparts.

  ‘Now take off your headdress.’ He curled his fingers to stop himself from doing it. The urge to touch her seemed to be getting stronger every moment. ‘You need to signal your surrender.’