Besieged and Betrothed

‘There’s no shame in surrender, my lady. Half the castles in England have surrendered and been recaptured at some point during the last ten years. Stephen himself surrendered at Lincoln. He’ll understand why you did, too.’

‘I hope so.’

She twisted her head suddenly, distracted by a commotion in the direction of the stairwell. He followed her gaze, annoyed to see a group of Sir Guian’s soldiers arguing with his guards.

‘Don’t you think they’ve had enough to drink?’ Her voice sounded tense. ‘There’s nothing left in the cellars.’

‘My men have orders not to let anyone through. They won’t get past.’

The taut line of her jaw relaxed slightly, though her face still looked anxious.

‘Speaking of surrender...’ she seemed to notice him watching her suddenly ‘...has the Empress ever done so?’

‘Has Matilda ever surrendered?’ He gave a shout of laughter. ‘No. She doesn’t believe in the word.’

‘So there’s no shame in it for me, but there is for her?’

‘It’s different.’

‘Why? She’s fighting for her home just like I am.’

‘She’s fighting to reclaim her country and fulfil her father’s wishes.’

She winced as he said the word father and he berated himself for his own tactlessness. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘Perhaps if her father had known what would happen, he wouldn’t have wished it,’ she interrupted before he could apologise. ‘Perhaps if he’d known how much suffering it would cause, he would have given the crown to Stephen.’

‘Perhaps, though from what I’ve heard, Henry wasn’t a man who tolerated his wishes being thwarted.’

‘No.’ Her expression of defiance faltered. ‘Perhaps not. My father said he was a strong ruler and Matilda takes after him.’

‘She does.’

She gave him a sharp, sideways look. ‘I heard a rumour that she was almost captured at Oxford.’

‘That’s true.’

‘It is? What happened?’

‘The King’s forces caught us by surprise and surrounded the town. The siege lasted three months, but eventually there was no choice. The garrison had to surrender. Matilda escaped over the walls the night before.’

‘Wasn’t there a moat?’

‘It was frozen. She crossed the ice, then walked six miles through the snow to reach safety.’

‘What about her guards? How could so many men escape without being noticed?’

‘There were only three of us, few enough to pass unseen, and we wore white cloaks so we wouldn’t be noticed.’

‘We?’

He shrugged, wondering why he was telling her any of this. He rarely told anyone anything. Taciturn was an understatement for him—even Matilda said so. He’d spoken more in the past twenty-four hours than he had for weeks, though that was probably only because she reminded him so much of her father, with the same intent manner of listening, as if she were absorbing every word. He’d only met William Danville on a handful of occasions, but he’d still counted him as a friend. Fighting side by side had a way of speeding up friendships. The older man’s keen intelligence and perceptiveness had led him to reveal more about his past than he had to anyone besides the Empress. Apparently the daughter had the same gift for drawing information out of him. On the other hand, he’d never found William quite so intriguing, nor felt such a compelling desire to move any closer towards him. He’d certainly never wanted to touch him, to reach under the table and stroke his leg...

‘The Empress must value you very highly.’ She tipped her head to one side like a curious bird, mercifully oblivious to the direction of his thoughts.

‘She trusts me. I’ve served her for most of my life, since I was seven years old.’

‘What about your family?’