Besieged and Betrothed

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘Good morning, Juliana.’

  She looked down towards the sound of Lothar’s voice. She’d been so busy looking around that she hadn’t noticed him approach, but now she found him standing directly below the keep steps, freshly bathed and shaved, and yet somehow even more ruggedly handsome than she remembered.

  ‘Good morning.’ She gestured around the bailey with a swell of happiness. ‘So this is what you had to arrange?’

  ‘I thought it was time things got back to normal.’ His expression was guarded, as if he wasn’t sure what her reaction would be. ‘I would have waited to discuss it with you, but I didn’t know how long you’d need to sleep.’

  ‘It’s a lovely surprise.’ She gave him a heartfelt smile. ‘I feel much better this morning, thank you.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it. Though it might still be best if—’

  ‘No!’ She threw her hands up in protest. ‘If you tell me to go to bed one more time, I’ll throw the mattress out of the window!’

  ‘That window?’

  He jerked his head up at the small opening and she folded her arms defiantly.

  ‘I’ll find a way.’

  ‘I believe you.’ There was a glint of amusement in his eye. ‘As you wish then, my lady. In that case, what would you like to do today?’

  ‘Today...’ she looked up at the sky and sighed wistfully ‘...I’d like to get out.’

  ‘Out?’

  ‘Yes. Apart from that day we met on the drawbridge, I haven’t been outside these walls in five months.’

  ‘Five months?’ He gave a low whistle. ‘I didn’t think of that. I would have run mad.’

  ‘Perhaps I almost did.’ She started down the steps. ‘But today I’d like to get out, maybe go for a ride...if that’s allowed?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t it be? You’re in charge, remember?’

  She stopped on the second step up so that her face was level to his. ‘Just checking.’

  ‘Still don’t trust me?’

  ‘I’m starting to.’

  ‘Good. Because, with your permission, I’d like to come with you.’

  ‘To protect me?’ She smiled knowingly, but he didn’t respond.

  ‘Partly, though you can take some of your own men if you prefer.’

  ‘Because you on your own is the same as a few of my men.’ She let out a gurgle of laughter. Apparently she couldn’t stop smiling today. ‘You think very highly of yourself.’

  ‘The Empress once said I was like one of her deerhounds. A good attack dog.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like much of a compliment.’

  He grimaced. ‘You might be right, though I chose to believe it meant I was good at my job.’

  ‘Maybe she meant you were loyal. To her anyway.’

  ‘Maybe.’ He arched an eyebrow, as if the comment surprised him. ‘In any case, I’d like to get a closer look at the land.’

  ‘All right. You can come.’ She jumped down the last two steps enthusiastically. ‘Husband.’

  She walked off briskly towards the stables, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder as she did so. Why had she said that? Partly because he’d called her wife earlier, partly because she’d wanted to see how he would react—though, judging by the expression of surprise on his face, he didn’t know how to. But he’d been right when he’d said they were stuck in this situation together. They ought to try to make the best of it. And he was her husband, after all—she was only stating a fact. It was just a word. It didn’t mean anything else. Even if she was starting to like it.

  * * *

  An hour later she reined in her palfrey, stopping on a ridge that overlooked a deep valley to the east. Together, they’d galloped all along the backbone of the hills, the wind rushing past her ears so fast that her headdress now lay flat on her shoulders, surrounded by a mane of hair as wild and tangled as it had ever been. This was one of her favourite views. As she looked out at the horizon, it was hard to imagine they were part of a country at war with itself. It looked peaceful, the way it once had been—the way it hopefully would be again.

  ‘You’re a good rider.’ Lothar cantered up beside her.

  ‘I’m out of practice.’ She reached forward to pat her palfrey’s neck. ‘It’s one of the few things women are allowed to do that I’m actually good at.’ She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘Or do you object?’

  He grinned. ‘I’m not so easily offended. I’ve seen a woman’s legs before.’

  ‘What?’

  She looked down, mortified to find that the lower part of her skirt had hitched on to the back of her saddle, exposing her legs all the way from her knees downwards. It must have happened when they were galloping. If it weren’t for her woollen stockings he’d be able to see more than just the outline.

  ‘You could have told me!’ She wrenched the material down indignantly.

  ‘I just did. And it wasn’t easy to catch up. Out of practice or not, you’re faster than I am.’

  She tossed her head, embarrassment vying with elation. When he smiled like that, she didn’t care how much he saw of her.

  ‘When are you leaving?’ She dragged her thoughts back on to safer territory.

  ‘What do you mean?’ His voice sounded edgier suddenly.

  ‘You said you were going back to the Empress.’

  ‘Oh...that.’ A muscle twitched in his jaw, small but unmistakable. ‘Not for a while. She doesn’t need me until the spring. You’re stuck with me until then, I’m afraid.’

  ‘As long as you don’t mind.’

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘No particular reason.’

  She tried to keep her expression calm as her heart gave a small leap. He sounded tense, but he didn’t seem particularly upset about being separated from the Empress.

  ‘Will you tell me what’s happening out there?’ She gestured into the distance. ‘In the rest of England, I mean.’

  ‘Not much. Not yet anyway.’

  ‘Was the Empress very upset about the Earl of Gloucester?’

  ‘Extremely.’

  ‘It must have helped to see you.’

  ‘Must it? She wanted to discuss her plans.’

  ‘For ending the war?’ She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  ‘Yes. In a manner of speaking.’

  ‘What?’ She twisted around in her saddle, seized with a rush of hope.

  ‘Her son Henry’s coming from Normandy.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her spirits sank again. ‘I thought you meant it was over.’

  ‘It might be. Most of the Barons have had enough of fighting. More and more are making pacts to stay neutral.’

  ‘So you mean we’re just going to stay like this? With battle lines drawn, but no fighting either? It’s not war or peace.’

  ‘No, but Stephen’s getting older and Henry’s a young man. He’s a charismatic leader with all the makings of a great king. Given a choice, I believe most of the Barons could be persuaded to side with him.’

  ‘Because he’s a man?’

  ‘Not just because of it, but it might tip the scales in his favour. Enough for Stephen to come to a compromise anyway.’ He paused, as if uncertain about whether or not to tell her something and then going ahead anyway. ‘Matilda wants him to sign a treaty, ceding the throne to Henry on his death.’

  ‘A treaty?’ She repeated the word thoughtfully. ‘A piece of paper to end a war.’

  ‘Better than a battle.’

  ‘True, but then who wins? If Stephen keeps the crown, but agrees to let Matilda’s son succeed him, then both of them win and both of them lose. It makes everything that’s happened seem such a waste.’

  ‘War’s always a waste.’

  ‘I thought soldiers liked war?�
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  ‘Did your father?’

  ‘No,’ she conceded the point readily. ‘He said that soldiers were a necessary evil, to protect the innocent as much as for fighting battles.’

  ‘He was right.’

  She looked at him askance. He’d always seemed like such a born warrior that she’d never considered that he might not want to fight.

  ‘Don’t you like fighting?’

  ‘There was a time when I did, when it made me feel as if I were moving on from the past. Now...’ He gave her an appraising look. ‘You seem to have a calming effect on me.’

  ‘Me?’ She bit her lip and his eyes followed the movement, flickering with something that made her stomach tighten convulsively.

  ‘Most of the time.’ He looked away again quickly.

  She swallowed. ‘You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the most terrifying-looking man I’d ever seen.’

  To her surprise, he laughed. ‘And you said that being compared to a dog wasn’t a compliment?’

  ‘I wasn’t trying to compliment you. I just wanted to say that I was wrong. You’re not so terrifying after all.’

  ‘Not at all?’ He sounded disappointed.

  ‘Occasionally. When you threatened Sir Guian, for example.’ She gave him a pointed look. ‘I never thanked you for protecting me from him. I should have.’

  ‘You never told me what he did to you either.’

  ‘No.’ She held his gaze evenly. ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Will you tell me now?’

  She sucked in a breath. Would she? Could she?

  ‘It wasn’t what he did. It was what he tried to do. I was foolish enough to agree to a private meeting.’

  ‘You said he didn’t hurt you.’ His voice deepened menacingly.

  ‘He didn’t, not as much as I hurt him anyway. He didn’t count on my being able to defend myself.’

  ‘When I see him again...’

  ‘You can leave him alone, just like I asked you to.’ She reached out impulsively, placing a hand on his jaw to ease the tension there. She didn’t want to see the look of fury on his face again. ‘Besides, I think you did a good enough job of scaring him last time. Once he finds out that we’re married, he’ll be quaking in his boots.’

  His jaw unclenched finally beneath her fingertips, though his gaze never left hers. ‘You’re right. I saw him in Devizes and he ran away like a startled hare. The next day I heard he’d ridden back to his estates.’

  ‘Then that’s all the revenge I need. I only want peace from now on.’

  He took a few deep breaths before agreeing. ‘Very well.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She pulled her hand away, hardly able to believe her own daring in touching him. What must he think of her? Another part of her didn’t care. The sun was past its zenith and the raw winter air stung her throat, but it felt good to be outside and free. She felt almost alive again. She was even enjoying her husband’s company. He wasn’t so terrifying after all, and he was staying, until the spring anyway. No matter how he felt about Matilda, he was her husband and he’d come back to protect her. That was all that mattered for now—and suddenly she knew just how to thank him.

  ‘Come on.’ She twitched on her reins. ‘I need to show you something.’

  ‘Now? We ought to be getting back.’

  ‘It won’t take long.’ She was already galloping away. ‘You’ll be glad of it, I promise!’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘There’s a ford?’ Lothar stared at the river in disbelief. ‘A ford?’

  ‘Yes.’ Juliana’s face was a picture of innocence.

  ‘It’s been here the whole time?’

  ‘For as long as I can remember. Only local people know about it.’

  He jumped down from his stallion and made his way along the riverbank for a closer inspection. The ford was almost three cart-widths across and in better condition than most of the bridges he’d crossed on his journey through Herefordshire. A troop of soldiers could easily make it across.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell Sir Guian?’ He looked back at her in amazement. ‘You could have ended the siege and sent his army away.’

  She gave a small shrug. ‘I thought about it, but it would have been the same as giving him the bridge. He was never going to attack us anyway.’

  ‘And when I arrived? I told you we were going to attack! You could have said something then.’

  ‘What was the point? You said that Sir Guian’s soldiers would attack us for plunder anyway.’

  ‘I was bluffing!’

  ‘How was I supposed to know that? You looked terrifying, remember? I might have said something if I’d thought it would stop you finding my father, but by then you were already inside the castle.’

  ‘So all this time there’s been another way over the river...’

  She slid down from her palfrey and wandered slowly towards him, eyes gleaming with a look of triumph. ‘Why do you think the bridge at Haword is so small? We’ve never needed a bigger one. Didn’t you ever wonder about that?’

  He rubbed a hand around the back of his neck, inwardly berating himself for his own lack of attention. He had thought about it, briefly when he’d arrived, but then he’d met her. Apparently he’d been more distracted than he’d realised. He still was. His jaw was still tingling from where she’d cradled it with her fingers, even if it had seemed more a gesture of comfort than anything else, just like when she’d touched his scar that morning. That was the real measure of his distraction—he’d never let anyone touch him there before.

  ‘I should have thought of it. This is better than the bridge.’

  ‘I know.’

  He lifted an eyebrow. ‘There’s no need to rub salt in the wound. Why are you showing it to me now?’

  ‘Because you kept your word and came back, and because you made me feel better last night. I wanted to give you something in return.’

  ‘Doesn’t it break your promise to Stephen?’

  Her lips curved in a smile that looked both guilty and gleeful at the same time. ‘I promised him I’d hold the bridge. I never mentioned anything about a ford.’

  ‘So you didn’t tell him about it either?’

  ‘No. I gave him my oath of allegiance, not all my secrets as well. You never know when those might come in handy.’

  He gave a shout of laughter. ‘You know, if this gets out, it renders Haword’s position a lot less important.’

  ‘I know. That’s why it’s a secret.’ She swished a hand over some rushes at the water’s edge. ‘Though now I suppose you’ll have to tell Matilda.’

  ‘Not necessarily. What kind of a lord would I be if I gave all our secrets away? I’ll tell the Empress if I ever need to, but since Stephen’s not coming now...’ he shrugged ‘...there doesn’t seem much point at the moment.’

  She smiled and he felt his loins tighten in response. It was the same breathtaking smile she’d worn when she’d come out of the keep that morning. It had caught him unawares at the time, as if she were actually pleased to see him, and the effect seemed to have become more and more arresting with each passing hour. He’d wanted to make her smile again, but he’d never imagined anything quite so powerful—or so potent either. His hands were itching with the desire to reach out and touch her. Just as they’d been that morning, when he’d had to flee her bedchamber to stop himself from gathering her into his arms and showing her just how glad he was to see her again. They were married, but she was grieving and vulnerable. Besides which, their truce was still fragile—and temporary. In the spring he was leaving, not just for Devizes, but for Normandy, possibly for good. Touching her would only complicate matters. He had to remember that—no matter how much he might want to.

  ‘Come on.’ He cleared his throat gruffly. ‘It’s gett
ing late.’

  He led the way reluctantly back to the horses. In a couple more hours it would be dark and there was something important they needed to do before then, though he still had to ask her permission. He had no idea what her answer would be. The last thing he wanted was to rush or to force her into anything, but it was too important to delay for long...

  ‘What did you think of me when you first saw me?’

  ‘Mmm?’ He was so busy thinking about his own question that hers took him by surprise.

  ‘What did you think when you first saw me?’ She repeated the words, though her casual tone sounded forced somehow. ‘I told you what I thought about you.’

  ‘I thought you were a woman standing on some battlements.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  He grasped hold of her palfrey’s bridle, holding the animal steady for her to mount. ‘I thought that I didn’t want to shoot you.’

  She froze halfway into the saddle. ‘You thought about shooting me?’

  ‘No. I was just being told to.’

  ‘Oh.’ She dropped into the saddle with a thud. ‘By Sir Guian?

  He nodded and swung up on to his stallion, vaguely discomfited by the exchange. He had the feeling that he’d disappointed her somehow, though he’d only been telling her the truth. He had thought she was a woman standing on some battlements. What else did she want from him?

  ‘I thought you looked like a queen.’ He wasn’t sure where the words came from. ‘A Celtic one.’

  She looked even more startled than when he’d mentioned shooting her. ‘Because I have red hair?’

  ‘It’s not red. Not blood-red anyway. It’s darker than that, like leaves in the autumn.’

  ‘I like that.’ Her head tipped to one side. ‘Dark red on a crest stands for victory.’