Besieged and Betrothed

‘You’re also a better man than a baron like Sir Guian could ever be. I wasn’t insulted.’

Not by that anyway, she added silently. She was far more insulted by the idea of her husband being in love with another woman, though saying it aloud would only make her sound jealous...

‘I was just angry at the situation. It was a shock.’

‘For both of us, but I want to make the best of it, Juliana. I hope our truce can still hold.’

He held a hand out and she took it, feeling the quivering sensation in her stomach flare up again as he twined his fingers around hers.

‘Truce?’

‘Truce.’ She tried to keep her expression under control. ‘But what will you do if I’m running the castle?’

He hesitated briefly. ‘I’ll carry on serving the Empress as before.’

‘You mean you’ll be leaving again?’ The quivering sensation dissipated. Of course he’d want to return to Matilda.

‘At some point, yes.’

‘So we’ll live apart, like the Empress and her husband?’

‘Not quite like that, but perhaps...in the future...’ His expression looked torn. ‘In any case, I promise to come back if you ever need me. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.’

She pulled her hand away with a sinking feeling. Considering everything she’d said to him before, it was a reasonable proposal. A kind of part-time marriage. That ought to please her. He was offering to let her go on as before, to return to her old role without any interference, only adding his name and reputation, thereby keeping his promise to her father as well as his oath to the Empress. There were so many promises and oaths between them she could barely keep track. Hers to Stephen. His to the Empress. Theirs to each other. How could they possibly keep all of them? Which ones came first?

‘Juliana...’ He seemed on the verge of saying something else, before he stood up abruptly. ‘I have to go.’

‘Where to?’ She felt strangely crestfallen. ‘It’s still dark.’

‘It’s almost dawn. I have things to arrange.’

‘What things?’

‘You’ll see.’ He pulled his gambeson back over his head. ‘You’re not in control yet, my lady.’

‘But you just said...’

‘Not until the morning. First you need to get some more rest. Until then, I’m in charge.’ He gave her a conflicted look as he made for the doorway. ‘Wife.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

‘Lothar?’

Juliana propped herself up on one elbow, staring at the bed with bleary-eyed confusion until she remembered that her husband had gone.

Husband. She said the word aloud, testing its strangeness on her tongue. It wasn’t a word she’d ever been fond of, though now it seemed to have lost some of its sting. She looked around the chamber, but all trace of him seemed to be gone. All of his clothing, all the remains of their midnight meal. The only new object was a cup by the bed filled to the brim with something steaming hot and delicious-smelling, like honey mixed with ale and spices.

Eagerly, she picked it up and took a sip, smiling as the warmth reached her stomach. Whoever had brought it must have woken her as they left, though she was glad of the disruption. Whatever her new husband wanted, she had no intention of staying in bed all day. Her mind felt clearer than it had in a long time, as if all the things Lothar had told her the previous night had laid her worries, if not to rest, then to bed anyway. She had a feeling it would take a lot longer to come to terms with everything that had happened, but because of him, she’d made a start. Despite everything—his attachment to Matilda and her reluctance to be married—he’d been thoughtful and caring and had seemed to know exactly what to say. Maybe being married to him wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Maybe they could be friends. She actually felt eager to see him again.

She gulped down the rest of the ale and climbed out of bed, splashing her face with water before opening her coffer and exchanging her old tunic for a forest-green surcote trimmed with brown fur. If the cold draught blowing in through the window shutters was anything to go by, she was going to need it. Then she picked up a comb and dragged the prongs through the tangled bird’s nest of her hair, wincing at every knot. It took ten long, painful minutes, but finally it was done. She left it loose, tucking the long waves neatly away beneath her headdress, feeling strangely pleased with herself. There. She was ready. Now she just had to find her husband.

She made her way impatiently down the stairs and into the hall, but there was no sign of him, only a couple of maids chattering and laughing together as they stoked up the hearth.

Maids? She stopped dead in surprise. She’d sent all the maids away months ago. What were they doing there now?

&n

bsp; ‘Alys? Maud?’ She recognised both of the women at once.