Once a Knight (24 page)

“Bert and Alisoun will fight—are already fighting—and you'll have to make your choices. Who will you side with? The woman you've wed who, by all appearances, is stiff-necked and conventional, or your wild
child, who needs to be taught proper behavior without breaking her spirit?”

“Alisoun, of course.”

“Of course.” Guy mocked him. “You've raised Bert, but not like any other child I've seen. Most especially, not like any girl I've seen. You've given her her head more often than not.”

“Why not?” David asked indignantly. “She's learned by trying and failing, or trying and succeeding. I've made sure she didn't hurt herself, and it's worked well.”

“Aye, it's worked. She's tried anything she chose, and you and I, we're old warriors. We just watched and made sure she didn't get hurt. What do you think Lady Alisoun will think of such a way of raising a child?”

David remembered his early impressions of Alisoun. He'd thought her humorless, unemotional, frigid. That was how Guy now saw her, but it wasn't the truth, and David clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You'll see. She'll defer to my greater knowledge.”

“Will she?” It never occurred to either one of them to enter the open stable door this time. They just passed it and kept walking. “So when Bert tells Lady Alisoun she wants to train as a squire, she's going to encourage Bert?”

David didn't answer.

“Because you know Bert. Once she decides to learn something, nothing will stop her until she's mastered it. She's going to be after you every day to teach her swordplay and jousting and every other manly pursuit. It's your contention that Lady Alisoun will allow such behavior without saying a word?”

“Damn!” David smacked his hand into the stable wall, then wished he hadn't. The horses needed serenity to settle, and even the stablemaster would be moving as
quietly as possible. He listened, but heard nothing but a few startled neighs. Softly, he spoke again. “Alisoun has a strong sense of duty, and she'll consider training Bert to be a lady her duty, and nothing will keep her from it.”

“There's nothing wrong with that.”

“But what's the harm in Bert learning a squire's duty if she wishes?”

Guy pounced. “So you are going to support Bert against Lady Alisoun?”

“Nay, I…” David took a breath. “Why does it have to be so complicated? When I met Lady Alisoun, I thought she was mean-spirited and bloodless. Then I saw her demesne and thought, ‘Ooh, all this beautiful wealth waiting for me.' So I courted her and talked to her, and she's…she's…” Turning to Guy, he grasped his shoulders. “You know how it is when you look in one of those clear, polished crystals and it just looks like a hard, cold stone? Then as you stare, you notice the rainbows that dance on the surface, and when you hold it up to your eye and look through it, it makes all the colors brighter and all the hard, horrible things look like they're touched by an angel's wing?”

Bewildered, Guy stared at his old friend. “Nay.”

David swept on. “That's what she's like. You think she's hard and cold and easily seen through, and then she transforms your whole world.”

Guy laid his hand on David's forehead. “Are you ill?”

Laughing, David knocked him away and entered the dim stable, hushed except for the restlessness of the old horses and the uneasy snuffling of the new. “Did I ever tell you about my granny?”

Trailing after him, Guy said cautiously, “Your granny?”

“She used to talk about how some couples share a great love.”

“You and Lady Alisoun share a great love?”

Guy could have sounded less incredulous, but David ignored that. “Well, she doesn't know yet.”

“You share a great love, but she doesn't know yet?”

David stopped to pet one of the horses from George's Cross. “She didn't want to marry me.”

“So why did she?” Guy asked suspiciously.

“For the same reason she hired me. For protection.” David frowned. “In fact, we need to spread the word that if anyone sees a stranger lurking about, I should be informed at once.”

“What does she need protection from?”

“I don't know.” David could see little in the fading light, but he did catch sight of Guy's blatant stupefaction and said, “That is, I have a good idea, but I don't know everything yet. She'll tell me soon.”

“Probably when she realizes you share a great love.”

“Probably.” Entering one of the stalls, David checked the gelding's hooves and hocks. “This one stepped into a hole on that wretched road and has limped ever since. I'll get the stablemaster to heat a poultice and put it on him.”

Guy watched with intense interest. “May I ask a question?”

“As you wish.”

“Why did Lady Alisoun marry you for protection when she had hired you for protection?”

David didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to talk about that. But Guy wanted an answer, and they'd been friends too long for David to evade or lie. “I rather forced her to wed me.”

Guy straightened so quickly David wondered if he'd gotten a sliver. “Forced her? You mean at swordpoint, or by kidnapping? One of the king's heiresses? Are you mad?”

Irked that Guy would think such a thing, David snapped, “I didn't force her with any violent means. I simply came into some knowledge that she would prefer remain hidden. And there is the babe, of course.”

Guy staggered backward and sat down on a stack of hay. “She's with child?”

David grinned proudly. “Aye.”

“With
your
child?”

His grin disappeared. “Aye!”

Guy seemed overwhelmed, unable to speak another word.

David waited, and when Guy did nothing but shake his head, David stepped out of the stall, closed the gate behind him, and hefted Guy to his feet. “So you see we have to blend these families and these estates.”

“It's going to be a difficult task,” Guy warned.

“With your help, my friend, we'll do it. My granny always used to say that with a great love, it casts a glow of warmth all around it and makes everyone content.” David moved toward Louis's stall. “You'll see.”

Ahead of them, something flew over the door of one of the stalls and landed in the aisle. Something else followed and landed on top of it, and in an awesome silence the two things tumbled and rolled. Unable to make out details in the dim light, David hurried toward the creatures.

Lads, fighting just outside Louis's stall. The great horse watched stoically, but David grabbed one and Guy grabbed the other, and they dragged them along the aisle and out the door.

“Eudo!” David shook the boy in his grip, then looked at the one Guy held and recognized his own Radcliffe page. “And Marlow! What are you two doing?”

Eudo extended a shaking finger. “He started it!”

“He tried to tend Louis.” Marlow kicked dust at Eudo. “It's my task to tend Louis. Tell him, Sir David.”

“Aye, tell him, Sir David.” Eudo pointed his thumb at his chest. “It's me you want to tend Louis.”

Dumbfounded, David stared at the two boys until Guy said sarcastically, “Oh, aye. A great love. Warmth of glow. Everyone content.” David met Guy's gaze, and Guy wagged his great head. “Better sooner than later.”

 

That night at the meal, no one spoke much. Worn out by the fight which she had lost, the child Bertrade had fallen asleep on her bench and been carried away. David's servants maintained a watchful vigil, and Edlyn and the maids showed obvious signs of fatigue.

Alisoun was grateful. She hated to acknowledge her own lack of courtesy, but she would have been hard pressed to carry on a civil conversation.

The trip had been tiring, settling into a new castle proved difficult, the child Bertrade expressed a defiant spirit, and Alisoun had finally been forced to face facts. The one thing she'd always feared had happened.

She'd been married for her wealth.

“Could I cut you a slice of bread?” David scooted as close to her as he could get. The bench they shared allowed him to press against her, knee, hip and arm, and his knife hovered over the loaf placed before them on the long table.

Alisoun nodded graciously. “I would be beholden.”

The blade began sawing back and forth, back and forth, and Alisoun realized how hard the bread would be. But Edlyn had taken one look into the baker's ovens and demanded he clean them before he bake another thing, so they'd dine on stale bread and be grateful this night.

She had been stupid to hope that David had married her for any other reason than her money. She could dream he did it out of affection for his unborn babe, or because of the pleasure she'd offered him in bed. She could pray that he valued her for herself.

But the truth was always and forever that he wanted her twelve sacks of wool, and all the assets that went with them.

Oh, she couldn't even blame him. He had a child he adored. She'd helped give Bertrade that bath, and the child, while healthy, was far from plump. She could comprehend his decision to wed and provide for his daughter.

“The bread is stale, so I had your maid warm it.” Pushing the heated slice into her hand, David said, “I've had an egg yolk whipped in white wine for you to dip it in. 'Twill be good for our child, also.”

“My thanks again.” She touched her still flat belly. “You are ever thoughtful.”

If she were a less honest woman, she could claim she'd married David to give her child a name. Instead, she'd wed an inappropriate man for no better reasons than companionship and desire. She was no less a fool than another woman she knew who had wed her dream of love and found nothing but a belt to blister her skin and a rod to break her bones.

“My cook took dried strawberries from this very spring and steamed them to plumpness and made a compote.” David waved the fragrant bowl slowly before her nose. “For you, my lady. Won't you eat?”

If it weren't for the danger which threatened, she'd go back to George's Cross and take her chances, but that open grave proved that her enemy knew the truth, and she feared he would do anything now to take his revenge.

So she had a choice. She could fret and complain and be like David's first wife, a weight to drag him down. Or she could do as she had always done. She could do her duty.

Armed with a new resolve, she looked at David. He, too, seemed tired, and lines of concern marked his dark tanned skin. She smiled at him graciously and picked up her spoon. “This all smells quite delicious. I look forward to the end of our first day at Radcliffe.”

David sat back with a sigh that sounded like relief. From his hungry expression, she expected that he would gobble his food in the manner of a barbarian. But he ate politely and drank his fill, always attentive to her needs and chatting like a host making his new guest at home. When at last he pressed the goblet to her lips and let her drink, then turned it to the same spot and drank while gazing at her, she realized the reason for his desirous aspect—and all her pretense of serenity almost went for naught. She rose so quickly he knocked their bench over trying to get to his feet, and she moved toward the solar with a firm stride. She heard him scrambling to catch up, but she refused to look back or in any way acknowledge his presence. But when he trod on her skirt, it jerked her to a halt, and when he took her arm, it brought her around to face him at the very door of the solar.

“I wish to sleep now,” she said.

“So we will,” he answered.

“Alone.”

“We're married.”

“I am aware.”

“So I'll be in the marriage bed with you.”

He looked so firm, so calm, so determined. She wanted to retort, but she couldn't breathe. She felt as if bands were tightening around her throat. Only now did
she realize what a facade she'd erected around her emotions. She wasn't tranquil. She wasn't serene. She was absolutely livid.

She meant only to lay her hand on his chest. She really did.

But she hit him so hard she knocked him backward. She didn't yell, but only because she couldn't. In a low tone, she said, “I will be the mother to your child. I will be the mistress of your people. I will be the money chest which provides prosperity, and I will give it gladly.” She slapped her hand on his chest again and this time she heard his grunt of pain. “But I will not be an expedient body in your bed. Go and find yourself a mistress.”

David's people couldn't hear, but they watched the scene avidly and the humiliation struck at his pride, just as she knew it would. Exploding in a display of exasperation, he said, “Fine! I know where ten mistresses are, and willing ones too.”

With a tight smile, she shut the door in his face.

Ruefully, he looked at his hands, especially noting the one missing a finger. “Well, nine mistresses anyway.”

“
God's teeth, man
, you've got to do something about Lady Alisoun.” Guy shoved his way through the crowd that surrounded David in the castle bailey. “If you don't, she's going to drive me mad.”

David raised his weary head and stared at his steward through bloodshot eyes. “Why should you be any different?”

Glancing around, Guy observed the angry expression on the face of every servant who worked in the castle, but he clearly had no sympathy. “She's supposed to be supervising
them
.”

The servants murmured angrily.

Guy ignored them. “But the guard is none of her affair. 'Tis mine, and I resent her sending her two trained apes in to teach me what I already know.”

With a sigh, David agreed. “She should not. I will speak to her.” He looked around at the household staff. “I will speak to her about all of you, too.”

“Do it, m'lord,” one of the women said. “We did well enough without her before.”

David frowned and pointed a finger right under the
woman's nose. “Well enough isn't good enough, and with Lady Alisoun I find that she's always right. If she says there's more to be done, then you'll work until you do it. I'll do nothing more than suggest she weed out the troublemakers and promote the more ambitious among you.”

The woman drew back, clearly frightened.

“That way, you'll be working for one of your own, and not for a stranger from George's Cross. But you'll still be working for the food which Lady Alisoun has provided, I promise you. You'll still be working.”

As David stepped away from his servants, he heard no sound at all. He'd given them ideas to ponder, and thought it best if they pondered them on their own. Guy apparently thought so, too, for David heard footsteps as Guy hurried to join him.

“You told the lazy knaves well enough that time,” Guy said. “They've been slacking on purpose.”

“I know.” David rolled his shoulders, trying to get the kinks out that came from sleeping on the floor of the great hall. “I've been waiting for the chance to warn them what would happen. But I'm warning you, too. If my lady comes to you with suggestion to improve your defenses, listen with an open mind.”

“You've got eels for brains! What would a woman know about defense?”

“She knew enough to hire me.” Guy laughed and David jostled him. “You know the best defenses, and if you listen to her, you'll hear her respect for that. But she's so organized there's no operation she can't make better.”

“If you say so, but she certainly has a way of getting my back up.”

This time David laughed. “Aye, she's good at that, and here she has had so many new people unused to her effectiveness she's alienated them all at once.”

“The servants. Me. My men. If it weren't for Philippa calming me after Lady Alisoun had left the guardhouse, I would be angrier yet.” Guy half-smiled. “She's a lovely lady.”

“Alisoun?”

“Philippa.”

“She's not—” David gave up. If Guy wanted to call Philippa a lady, David didn't care. “Unfortunately Philippa isn't following Alisoun everywhere, for half the village has been complaining.”

Guy waited, and when David didn't continue, Guy said, “And Bert?”

“Bert hides from her. She only comes out for her lessons as a warrior, and that, I suspect, only so she can learn to use a real sword—on Alisoun.”

“You're training her with your squire, aren't you?”

“Eudo? Aye, I'm training them together.”

Guy stopped at the base of the keep stairs. “What does he think?”

“I haven't asked him.”

“You should. He's a bright lad, and sees much.”

David smothered a grin.

“And what's so funny?”

“I don't have to ask what he thinks of training with Bert. His manliness is greatly offended.”

“But he doesn't dare complain because she's your daughter?” Guy's eyes lit with answering glee. “Poor lad.”

“Aye. He's offended that he must train with a girl, and he's offended that Louis allows Marlow the stableboy to care for him.”

“Did you not explain that Marlow had that duty first?”

“I also told him that normally, stable work is beneath a squire's dignity, but he well knows Louis's worth, and none of it appeased him.”

“And I imagine Bert torments him.”

“Worse.” David succumbed to laughter. “She worships him.”

“Poor, poor lad,” Guy repeated. Leaning against the stairpost, he said, “Eudo, in turn, worships Lady Alisoun.”

“So Bert says nothing aloud to her detriment. But she thinks it very loudly.”

“A muffled Bert could be dangerous,” Guy warned. “She could explode at any moment.”

“I live in fear,” David said.

“Does the lady know any of this?”

“I didn't think any situation existed which Alisoun had not dealt with. But she's proved me wrong, and if she doesn't know, I have the unenviable task of telling her.”

“You'll do it alone, then. I'm not so brave as that.”

With a resigned wave, David sent Guy on his way. Inside the great hall, a seeming peace reigned—but then, his serving women stood outside in the bailey. Alisoun's maids sat in a clump, like colorful spiders producing wool thread from their spindles as they laughed and talked. Seeing him searching, one called, “Lady Alisoun is in the solar, my lord.”

Alone? David's heart leapt at the thought. Would he at last catch her without the group that constantly surrounded her? He hadn't spoken to her without an audience since she'd shut the bedroom door in his face a fortnight ago.

And his nine mistresses had proved inadequate. He wanted his wife. He wanted her badly.

At first, he'd been furious, vowing that he would not speak to her until she spoke first. Then she'd circumvented his pledge by greeting him in the morning with a civil word and a polite smile, and he realized she would always do what was proper.

But sleeping with her husband was proper, and she seemed never to think of it.

His anger had faded. He'd indicated a willingness to kiss and reconcile. She'd indicated a willingness only to reconcile. Kisses were strictly forbidden, and kisses were what he longed for. Kisses were what he would steal—if she were alone in the solar.

He dusted his clothing with slaps of his hand. Making a detour to the washbasin, he rinsed his face and hands. Wetting his hair, he raked it with his fingers and wished he had time to take an entire bath. No torture was too great to get in Alisoun's good graces once more.

Nervous, he stared at the open door of the solar until a giggle from the maids urged him forward. He raised his hand to knock on the sill, then changed his mind at the last moment. After all, it was
his
solar.

He swaggered in with his most charming smile in place, and he realized he was in luck. She sat on the bed, her back to him, leaning against the footboard. Not wanting to give her a chance to escape, desperate to see some real emotion from her, he snuck up behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She screamed. Not a little scream, but a full-bodied scream of horror.

He leaped away. She leaped away. She turned to face him.

It was Philippa.

Her baby woke where she slept on the bed and screamed, too, frightened from sleep by her mother's terror.

“Philippa!”

“My lord!”

“I thought you were Lady Alisoun.”

“I thought you were…” Philippa put her hand on
her chest for one moment, then gathered her child close and tried to comfort her. “Forgive me, my lord, you startled me.”

Startled
her
? His heart still raced.

“My lord.” Alisoun spoke from behind him. “Why did you sneak up on her?”

Turning, he saw Alisoun. She sat in the alcove, needle clasped in her long fingers. The sun from the window lit the garment spread on the table and left her face in shadow, but even so he could see her offended astonishment. “I thought she was you,” he tried to explain.

“Why would you sneak up on Lady Alisoun?” Lady Edlyn sat across from her patron, stabbing the cloth with her needle as she waited for an answer.

Philippa gave him no time to get angry or defensive. As Hazel's shrieks died to whimpers, she said briskly, “No harm done. 'Twas my fault for being jumpy as a spotted hare.”

“I do beg pardon.” David moved close once more and caressed the baby's soft head. “I never meant to frighten you or the child.”

“Of course you didn't. Get up, Edlyn, and give my lord your seat. I doubt he came to speak to you or me.”

Sullenly, Edlyn rose as if Philippa had every right to command her. Giving him a wide berth, she moved away, but didn't leave the room.

David looked first at her bench, then at Alisoun's. Both had been built to hold two women, sitting side by side and sewing. Alisoun naturally sat in the middle of hers. That left just enough room for him if he pressed against her tightly, and he slid in beside her before she realized his plan.

“My lord!” Then she saw his challenging grin and abandoned that fight before battle was fairly joined.
Instead she moved to the far side of the bench to free herself from contact, taking her hemming with her.

He gladly followed. This should have felt no more intimate than sharing the day's meals in the great hall, except that he was alone with her in their bedchamber for the first time.

Well, not quite alone. Lady Edlyn rummaged through a chest and glared at them and Philippa coaxed Hazel to drink from a cup. The kitten who had slept in Alisoun's lap woke, disgruntled by the activity, and jumped to the floor. But compared with the crowd of servants and comrades who attended the meals with them, this was a small audience.

Alisoun wore proper clothing, of course. Even in her own bedchamber, even in the company of her maid and her fosterling, she would don nothing less. Yet the blue wool cotte was worn and soft, with lacing at the front from her waist to beneath her breasts. The linen shift she wore beneath the cotte had a tie at her throat, but it gaped open down to the point where the cotte covered it—just at the place where the swells of her breasts began.

No other woman, he was sure, could show as little flesh and still be so provocative.

His thigh rubbed against hers and he turned sideways to face her, wrapping his arm around her like a parent supporting his child's first attempts to sit up.

Alisoun was not amused.

He didn't care. She had nowhere to go except farther into the corner, and she refused to damage her dignity with such a worthless evasion. He had her fairly trapped.

In her most civil tone, she asked, “Was there something I could help you with, my lord and husband?”

“Aye, there is, but you won't do
that
.”

One look from her gray eyes should have given him frostbite.

Instead he warmed himself against the fire of her body. With his fingers he started at her waist and explored her spine, one vertebra at a time. He marveled at the tension that kept her so erect, and as he neared the nape of her neck, the tautness grew ever greater. He pushed the weight of her laden hair crispinette aside and bared the fine fair skin. Leaning close as if to kiss it, he let her flex in anticipation, then said, “I want to talk to you about our servants.”

She jumped, although whether from his words or the movement of air across her flesh, he did not know. Her fingers faltered, then she resumed her sewing. “Our servants?”

“Yours and mine.” He breathed in the scent of lemon balm that clung to her. “Surely you've noticed we have a problem.”

“Not one I understand.”

“Nay?” From this angle, he could see down her shift. Leaning back a little, he fixed the angle until he had a view of one entire breast. “Guy complained to me, too.”

“Guy? He seems so pleasant!”

“Oh, he likes you. He simply thinks you should mind your needle. It's a prejudice you've faced before, I know.”

“Aye, with Sir Walter, but it wasn't Guy's abilities about which I inquired.” When she faced him their faces were inches apart. She looked earnestly into his eyes and her lips moved close to his as she protested, “It was the preparation of the foodstuffs for the men-at-arms and—” her gaze dropped to her own shoulder as if looking at him rattled her, “—the times they should eat.”

They sat so close he could almost taste her. “Why do you care?”

She realized it, too. Her color rose in her face, and she cast him one quick glance, then again spoke to her
shoulder. “I thought perhaps we could manage to get them their food from the kitchen so they wouldn't have to prepare their own on those braziers.”

“You didn't explain that to him.”

“I'm the lady. I don't have to give explanations.”

He could only see the top of her head and the gape in her shift, and the top of her head couldn't compete for his attention. “Yet when a new lady comes and changes the way things have been done for generations, some might feel resentment and fail to cooperate as they should.”

Her chest rose and fell as she considered, and he longed to weigh her breasts in his hand, to see if they had grown.

Then she looked up at him, and he forgot about her body in his pleasure at seeing her face. “What do you suggest?”

“Do you know who among my servants should be in command?”

“Aye, of course.”

“Will your maids work for them?”

“My maids will do as they're told.”

“Unlike their mistress.”

She faced front again and picked up the sewing she'd dropped.

“Appoint my servants to their tasks and place your maids within their ranks. Tell them they now know how you would have your household kept, and that Lady Edlyn and Philippa will watch to ensure they continue as you have instructed.”