Besieged and Betrothed

‘He said you might say that, my lady, and that I should send you back to bed if you argued.’ Ulf held his hands up quickly. ‘Not that I would.’

‘And where is he?’

‘He went out for a ride an hour ago.’

‘Where to?’

‘I don’t know. He’s not the kind of man who shares all his thoughts.’ Ulf glanced at Sir Guian’s soldiers again and chortled. ‘Not that he doesn’t make them obvious sometimes.’

Juliana made a harrumphing sound. She only wished that Lothar had been clearer about what he’d been thinking last night. What had he been doing upstairs? After he’d said that the best thing for her was to run off to Stephen and get married, she’d thought there was nothing left for them to say to each other. He couldn’t have made it any clearer that he’d no personal interest in her—not that she wanted him to—so what had he been doing in her father’s chamber afterwards? Had he been looking for her or something else? If it was her, then why? And if it was something, or someone else, then what had made him suspicious? She didn’t know which idea worried her more.

The feeling of panic had increased tenfold the moment he’d mentioned wanting to jolt his memory. The idea that he might remember their kiss had been alarming enough. The way his gaze had altered, as if he just had been remembering it, had been even worse. Not that he’d said or done anything, and if he’d remembered then surely he would have...wouldn’t he?

Even so, she’d been aware of something, some undercurrent of tension between them. For a heart-stopping moment, she’d even thought he’d been going to kiss her again. His eyes had lingered on her lips as if he’d wanted to. Standing face-to-face in the near-darkness, she’d felt her own treacherous body start to betray her again, too, as if the air of danger that had frightened her so much about him at first had actually started drawing her towards him now. If he hadn’t left when he had, she might have made an even bigger fool of herself than she had before—and this time, there wouldn’t have been any poppy-laced drink to make him forget.

‘Did you get any rest, my lady?’

‘Mmm?’ Ulf’s question brought her back to the present with a jolt. ‘Oh, yes, I dozed a little.’

‘In the taproom?’

She glanced around surreptitiously, checking to make sure no one else was in earshot before answering.

‘I stayed there most of the night, but I was afraid of being summoned this morning so I went back upstairs as soon as I heard noises in the hall. Just in time, too.’

She could still hardly believe the narrowness of that escape. She’d got back to her chamber only minutes before two of Lothar’s soldiers had arrived carrying a large bath tub, then proceeded to fill it to the brim with steaming water. Once she’d got over her relief at such a close call, it had felt wonderful. She’d stepped out of her clothes and into the tub with a feeling of intense, heartfelt relief. She’d been wearing her old brown tunic for two days straight and it hadn’t been particularly flattering before that. Practical was probably the best word to describe it, not that there had been any point dressing up for a siege. No wonder Lothar had treated her more like a girl than a chatelaine. She hadn’t exactly looked the part. Whereas now... She’d soaked herself for as long as she’d dared, then pulled on one of her best gowns, a respectable velvet bliaut in the same shade of muted green as most of her clothes, determined to prove that she could at least look like a chatelaine, as well as a lady, even if the once snug material now swamped her gaunt frame like a sack. She’d had to bunch the material over the top of her girdle just to stop it from trailing on the floor, though overall she’d been reasonably pleased with her appearance.

One glance at her reflection in the polished metal bowl she used as a mirror had put paid to that. Her only hope was that the change of gown would distract from the huge black rings around her eyes. They looked bad enough in her dimly lit room. In broad daylight, they’d only provoke more suspicion than ever.

‘We can’t use the taproom for long.’ She pushed her apprehensions aside. ‘It’s too cold.’

‘You don’t think we could tell Sergeant Lothar the truth?’

‘What?’ She gawked at Ulf in surprise. ‘I thought you didn’t like him?’

‘It’s not a question of liking, but he seems fair-minded.’

‘When he doesn’t look like he wants to wring someone’s neck, you mean?’

Ulf gave her a strange look. ‘That was for you, my lady. If he hadn’t, then I would have.’

She looked away quickly, refusing to acknowledge that particular debt amongst all the others. But Ulf was right in one way. Ironically, Lothar’s honourable behaviour in preventing any looting had kept her secret safer than she could ever have hoped. No one beside him had ventured any further than the hall of the keep. Still, even if he was as fair-minded as Ulf seemed to think, she couldn’t risk telling him anything. He was still one of the Empress’s men, practically her right-hand man if everything he’d said last night was true. If she told him her secret, then he’d tell Matilda and they’d all have to suffer the consequences. He was clearly in love with Matilda after all. What had he said, that his only home was with her? The words shouldn’t have affected her, but they had, causing an unwonted stab of jealousy. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Somehow it hadn’t bothered her quite so much when her father had said it...

‘There’s no need to tell him anything.’ She lifted her chin stubbornly. ‘He’s leaving today so we won’t have to use the taproom much longer. We’ll use Father’s chamber again. Sir Guian won’t notice what’s under his nose if I make up an excuse.’

‘As you wish, my lady.’

Her chin dropped slightly. ‘You don’t approve?’

&n

bsp; ‘It’s not my place to say so, my lady.’

She bit her lip anxiously. She wasn’t afraid of Ulf betraying her, but she would have appreciated his—or anyone’s—support. Not that she needed it, she reminded herself. She was the chatelaine, or at least she had been. She could make her own decisions without any man’s advice or support—and she could start by confronting the Baron herself.

‘Where’s Sir Guian?’ Her gaze searched the bailey. ‘Has he gone for a ride, too?’

Ulf didn’t answer and she looked up in surprise. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said he looked secretive, though he’d never kept secrets from her before.