Besieged and Betrothed

‘You met with Stephen?’

‘Yes. It wasn’t hard to convince him that Father was sick. After the way he’d behaved, it was obvious something was wrong.’

‘So you gave your allegiance in exchange for your father?’ He seemed to sway closer towards her. ‘You know you can retract an oath given under duress. You can still rejoin the Empress.’

She gave him a barbed look. Typical that he’d think that way, as if her allegiance to Matilda were all that mattered.

‘It wasn’t given under duress.’

‘You were in an impossible situation.’

‘Yes, but Stephen was more generous than I expected. He could have refused my request, could have thrown the rest of us out of Haword, but he didn’t. He let me bring Father home. I gave my oath willingly in exchange. I gave him my word and I won’t go back on it. Father would never have done.’

‘He wouldn’t have wanted this.’

‘I know that! I know he would rather have rotted away in a dungeon than have me take sides against Matilda, but I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I have my own mind and I make my own decisions. I love him more than I care about your Empress. I couldn’t abandon him to die like that.’

There was a heavy silence between them before Lothar jerked his head at the bed.

‘Does he know?’

‘That I swore allegiance to Stephen?’ Her voice wavered slightly. ‘No. He was unconscious when I brought him back to the castle and then...there were a few times when I thought I should tell him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He doesn’t remember the battle and I couldn’t bear it if...’ She felt a sudden rush of panic. ‘You wouldn’t?’

‘No. I wouldn’t.’ His gaze slid to the bed. ‘I’ve no wish to upset him either.’

‘So you’ll still let me look after him?’

‘No. We’ll look after him. We may be on different sides of this war, but for the time being I suggest a truce.’

She felt a lump rise in her throat. For the time being... Until it was over, he meant. Which also meant that he didn’t think it would be long. He was right. As much as she’d hoped for an improvement, her father’s condition had only deteriorated in the months since she’d brought him back from Stephen’s camp. Now there was no denying the fact that he was dying, fading away before her very eyes. And when he was gone—she felt as though an icy hand were clutching her heart—when he was gone she’d be all alone in the world, without a home or a position or purpose—because this man had taken them all away from her. She swallowed, forcing the lump in her throat back down again. She couldn’t think about any of that just yet. Better to have a truce for now and think about everything she’d lost afterwards. She could blame Lothar and the Empress then.

‘Truce.’

‘Good. Then tell me one more thing, my lady. Have you had word from Stephen? Is he coming?’

She lifted her hand up as if to brush his question aside at the same moment as he moved slightly towards her, so that her fingers pushed inadvertently against his chest. She froze at the contact, her pulse quickening at once. She could feel his heartbeat through his tunic, accelerating almost as quickly as hers was, though surely for a different reason... She stared at her splayed fingers, somehow unable to pull them away. He felt warm and solid, the muscles of his chest flexing slightly beneath her fingertips. Every nerve in her body seemed to vibrate in response. He’d asked her a question, she remembered vaguely. Something that had shocked her at the time, though now she could barely remember it. Something about Stephen? What should she say? She couldn’t lie, not when she’d just promised that she wouldn’t, but her throat was so dry she didn’t trust herself to say anything...

‘Lady Juliana.’ The way he said her name almost made her knees buckle. ‘If you don’t answer, then I’ll be forced to assume the worst. We need to be ready, for your men’s sake as well as your father’s.’

She peeked up and let out a panting breath. His eyes were boring into hers, smoke-coloured and smouldering with white-hot intensity, as if he were feeling the same way she was. Was he? The thought made her stomach leap with excitement, but she still hadn’t answered. She had to answer, but she couldn’t, shouldn’t, do this—whatever this was.

She tore her hands away, her fingers turning numb as she did so.

‘He sent a message nine days ago saying that he’d be here in two weeks. That’s why I tried to take you prisoner. I was trying to stall your attack until then.’

‘Not a bad plan.’ His voice seemed to have gravel in it.

‘It might have worked if you hadn’t already given the order.’

‘You were still a worthy opponent, my lady.’

‘Just not good enough to win.’ Her heart misgave her. ‘Not good enough for Stephen or my father either. I’ve failed both of them.’

‘On the contrary, you did your best for them both. Sometimes our choices aren’t as clear cut as one side or another.’

‘Not just Stephen or Matilda, then?’

‘Perhaps not.’ He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat with a husky sound. ‘I ought to go and make preparations.’