She looked slightly mollified. ‘You could have explained that at the time.’
‘I could have, but I thought anger might keep you awake long enough to reach your chamber. You looked like you were about to collapse.’ His gaze narrowed suspiciously. ‘You still do.’
‘I look no such thing and you’re the last person who ought to criticise anyone else’s temper!’
He made a wry face. It was a fair enough comment, he supposed, though he wasn’t used to such forthright honesty. Not many people dared to criticise his behaviour, especially his somewhat unstable temper regarding certain subjects. He wasn’t accustomed to criticism, or to explaining himself either. He never had to, except to the Empress, but Lady Juliana seemed to have no fear of him. Paradoxically her defiance only added to her appeal. He wouldn’t have thought he would like it, but judging by the way that his body was responding again, he most definitely did.
‘You’re right.’ He inclined his head. ‘I lost control earlier. It won’t happen again.’
‘Good.’ She gave him an arch look, then gestured di
sdainfully towards a particularly rowdy group of soldiers. ‘I see you’re making yourselves at home.’
‘Some of us are.’
‘If you don’t approve of their behaviour, then why don’t you stop them?’
‘They’re not my men. I’m not in command.’
She peered down the length of the table. ‘Sir Guian doesn’t seem in a fit state to do anything.’
‘Then I’d call that an improvement, wouldn’t you?’ He watched her face as one of his soldiers placed a fresh trencher in front of her. ‘Hungry?’
‘Ravenous.’ She leaned forward eagerly, breathing in the aroma before favouring the man with a wide smile. ‘It smells delicious. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, my lady.’
Lothar watched his soldier depart, seized with an irrational surge of jealousy. She’d never smiled at him like that, as if she truly meant it, not even when she’d been pretending to seduce him—and she’d spent most of the time since glaring at him.
‘Better than siege rations?’
‘I never want to eat stockfish again in my life.’ She picked up a piece of cheese and then paused with it halfway to her mouth. ‘Have my men eaten?’
‘Of course.’
‘Where are they?’
‘We’ve set up tents for them in the bailey.’
‘Tents?’
‘The keep and stables are full and the storerooms are full of Sir Guian’s supplies.’
‘What about your men? Are they going to billet here with Sir Guian’s?’
‘No, they’re in tents, too. Now eat.’ He nudged the trencher closer towards her. ‘Questions later.’
She looked faintly rebellious for a moment, then seemed to change her mind, tucking into the food with relish.
‘Slow down,’ he reprimanded her. ‘You shouldn’t eat too quickly after a diet of stockfish.’
‘I know.’
‘You’ll make yourself sick.’
‘Probably.’
‘Lady Juliana...’