Besieged and Betrothed

‘Wouldn’t I?’

He arched an eyebrow and her cheeks flamed with indignation. He didn’t look like a man who made idle threats, but how dare he threaten to humiliate her in such a way! After she’d calmed him down! After she’d prevented a fight! After she’d been prepared to deal with Sir Guian in her own way! She felt as if she’d just been stabbed in the back. He would never dream of doing such a thing to a man. If he was trying to demonstrate that she wasn’t chatelaine any longer, he was certainly making his point.

‘Last warning, my lady.’

She summoned as much contempt into her gaze as she could muster and then spun on her heel, muttering a string of invectives as she stormed furiously back towards the keep. She’d retreat for now, but if Lothar thought that she was simply going to follow his orders then he could think again. She had far more important tasks to occupy herself with than sleep and she was determined that he wasn’t going to find out about any of them!

Chapter Ten

Lothar took one look at the crowded hall and fought the urge to start shouting at the top of his lungs.

Sir Guian’s men were lounging on and around the trestle tables in varying degrees of inebriation, the worst disciplined group of soldiers he’d ever laid eyes on. They’d been no help in securing the castle, though his own men had surpassed themselves, carrying in fresh provisions, scrubbing floors, laying fresh rushes and replenishing the wood stores. It was a marked improvement, as if a gust of wind had blown through the bailey, blowing away all trace of the siege and making it fit for purpose again. In a better temper, he might have felt satisfied. As it was, he wanted to pick up the nearest table and hurl it against the wall, Sir Guian’s soldiers along with it.

He shouldn’t be there. That one thought had dominated his thoughts all day. He ought to be halfway back to Devizes by now, back by the Empress’s side where he belonged. If what Lady Juliana had murmured that morning was true and Stephen’s forces were really heading back into Herefordshire, then he ought to report it himself, not simply send a messenger. Instead he was wasting his time in a ramshackle castle in the middle of nowhere, guarding a woman who’d deceived, drugged and imprisoned him, all because, for some inexplicable reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave!

He glanced towards the stairwell that led to the private chambers above, nodding discreetly to the two soldiers he’d stationed there as guards—one to detain anyone who attempted to get past, the other to fetch him. Judging by the fact that neither had moved, he could only assume that Lady Juliana was still sleeping upstairs. His body stirred at the thought, though the memory of what he’d almost done in the bailey that morning was enough to banish the feeling completely. The leering expression on Sir Guian’s face had turned his suspicions into crystal-clear certainties. The fact that Lady Juliana obviously hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened between her and the Baron had only made matters worse. Lothar’s imagination had run riot, making the red mist descend even faster and more forcefully than usual. He hadn’t lost control of himself to such an extent for years, but he’d been about to do something definitely not in the Empress’s best interests, until Lady Juliana herself had stepped between them. She’d urged him to calm down, her green eyes boring deep into his until he did. How had she done it? Usually when he lost his temper, someone was bound to get hurt, yet she’d managed to bring him back to himself.

Not that he’d thanked her for it. He’d ordered her to bed instead, ignoring her look of outrage as she’d stomped away, muttering a string of surprisingly imaginative insults. He didn’t think he’d ever seen any woman, the Empress included, ever look or sound more furious, but he’d needed to put some distance between them. She’d needed some sleep, that had been obvious, and he’d needed to calm down and work out what the hell had just happened.

After taking the whole day to clear his head, he was no closer to finding the answer. Whatever power she had over him, whether to lure him inside a castle and hold him there, or to calm his temper, it wasn’t something he’d ever come across before. He didn’t know how to feel about that either.

He climbed the dais to the high table and muttered an oath. Now that he finally felt calm enough to confront Sir Guian it seemed that he’d waited too long. The Baron was already slouched in one of the large wooden chairs, an empty cup dangling from one hand as he looked around the room with bleary, red-rimmed eyes.

Damn it. He took a seat at the opposite end of the table, scowling fiercely until one of his men appeared with a trencher and some ale.

‘Have the castle garrison been fed?’ He practically barked out the question.

‘Yes, sir, just a small amount as you ordered.’

‘Good. They can have bigger portions tomorrow.’

‘What about Lady Juliana, sir? Shall I bring her a trencher?’

‘Mmm?’ The very mention of her name set his nerves on edge. ‘Yes, when she wakes up.’

‘She’s here now, sir.’

‘What?’ He jerked his head up, surprised to find her already mounting the steps to the high table beside him, still dressed in the same brown tunic she’d been wearing when they’d met. He was starting to wonder if she had any other clothes.

‘Lady Juliana.’ He pulled out a neighbouring chair, surprised by a feeling of eagerness. ‘Are you feeling well rested?’

‘Rested enough.’

She sat down without looking at him and he sighed.

‘I see you haven’t forgiven me yet then.’

‘Why would I?’ She shot him a venomous look. ‘If I were a man, you would never have humiliated me like that.’

‘If you were a man, you would have been clapped in chains and held for ransom. Would you have preferred that?’

‘More than being insulted, yes!’

‘Then I apologise. If I’d known you would have preferred a dungeon, then I could have obliged, but I did what was necessary at the time.’

‘It was necessary to send me to bed?’

‘Yes. You’d just surrendered the castle and your men needed to know Sir Guian was in command. Remaining downstairs would only have confused matters.’