The Lily and the Sword (Medieval 1)

Una shifted uneasily, but in truth she would have done whatever Lily asked of her. Since Radulf and his lady had come to her father’s inn she had experienced life among the great ones, and her new knowledge was heady indeed. But she had also developed a true loyalty and affection for Lily.

“I’ll deliver the message as you say, my lady.”

Lily had sighed in relief. “That is good, Una. Thank you with all my heart.”

God willing, her plan could now go ahead. It was simple enough: she would go to the meeting place and wait there. The difficult bit would be getting to the meeting place, and to pass unseen through the streets of York, she must assume another person’s identity. If she was Lady Wilfreda, Jervois would not allow her out of the inn. She could play the part of Una, but she did not fancy traipsing on foot in the dark to a place she did not know. Besides, Una’s lowly position made her vulnerable to Radulf’s anger and possible punishment.

Alice of Rennoc would be better.

After Una had gone to do her bidding, Lily took a deep breath and tried to relax. Her fingers moved busily with her sewing; her head was bowed. To any watchers she must appear totally unthreatening. It would never do for Radulf to grow suspicious, and he seemed able to read her so well. She took another deep breath. It was as if his dark gaze could pierce her very soul…

“My lady, that is the fifth time you have sighed. Your thoughts must be heavy indeed.”

Lily looked up, startled. Jervois gave her a questioning smile, and Lily hastily smiled in return. “If I really have sighed that many times, then it must indeed seem so. But I was only thinking of…of things past. There is sadness enough in such thoughts to make me sigh.”

He nodded. Although he was clearly Radulf’s man, Lily had always found Jervois approachable and sympathetic.

“Surely you have little to sigh over at present, lady. Lord Radulf has made that rogue Jacob a rich man with his attention to your attire.”

Lily laughed in pure feminine delight. “I will be the envy of all other women!”

Jervois’s eyes lit in appreciation. “And Lord Radulf will be the envy of all men.”

Immediately her animation vanished, and the cool gray eyes surveyed him consideringly. “You are kind, Jervois, yet I do not believe I am quite what Radulf sought in a wife. Remember, he was ordered to marry me. There must be many women far prettier and far richer than I who would have climbed atop each other to become Radulf’s wife.”

Anna, for one. And tonight he goes to meet her. And I will be there to see the truth. Aye, and I will sigh then…

Jervois looked evasive. He lowered his voice. “I think you wrong Radulf, lady, and undervalue yourself. King’s order or no, Radulf would not have wed you if he did not want to. Radulf rarely does anything he does not want to do.”

But Lily did not hear him.

She was looking past Jervois toward the door of the inn and the silhouette of the person who had just entered—Alice’s small, curvy form. Jervois turned to see what she was looking at. For a moment he gazed wonderingly at those small but voluptuous curves. He had not forgotten Alice of Rennoc, and he straightened with a new alertness as the girl approached. Her hair was like summer wheat and her eyes as blue as the sky, a knowing twinkle in their depths.

Lily rose quickly to her feet and, with a happy smile of greeting, hurried to meet her friend. Jervois followed her slowly, almost against his will.

“I hope you have a good reason for luring me into the ogre’s den,” Alice murmured into her ear as she hugged Lily. In return Lily gave her a reassuring squeeze. Alice’s gaze lifted beyond Lily, and her expression stilled.

Lily, surprised by the look on her face, turned to see Jervois bow his fair head. “This is Jervois, Alice, my lord’s captain. Jervois, this is Alice of Rennoc.”

Jervois’s green eyes flared with rare humor. “We have met,” he murmured, but his voice was strange.

“Yes.” Color was further heightening Alice’s already bright cheeks. She smoothed the skirts of the green gown she wore, and fiddled with the knot of her girdle, while Jervois fixed her with his serious stare and looked more than a little seasick.

Startled, Lily wondered if this was how she appeared when she was with Radulf. Jesu, she hoped not!

“Lady?” The familiar husky growl cleared all question of Jervois and Alice from Lily’s mind. Taking Alice’s warm hand in her own, she made her way unhurriedly toward the fireplace, where Radulf sat polishing the long, lethal blade of his sword.

He watched her come, his black eyes dancing with the flames. His face was impassive as Alice made her curtsy and stammered some excuse about passing and thinking Lily might be home.

“Do you often go about York on your own, lady?” he asked her mildly.

“I have one of my uncle’s servants with me, my lord. He is outside tending my horse.”

Radulf nodded and glanced to Lily, but as usual her eyes were cool and unreadable. He shrugged and turned back to his sword, his long fingers slow and thorough as he oiled the finely wrought steel.

“Come Alice,” Lily said in a light voice. “We will go to my chamber, where we can speak in private. I am sure Lord Radulf and his men do not want to hear the frivolous chatter of women.”

Radulf snorted a laugh, but Lily had already turned away, Alice close behind her. Lily shut the door to the bedchamber behind them and immediately felt better. As well as reducing the noise from so many men, it weakened the constant tension of Radulf’s penetrating gaze.