‘I was bluffing!’
‘How was I supposed to know that? You looked terrifying, remember? I might have said something if I’d thought it would stop you finding my father, but by then you were already inside the castle.’
‘So all this time there’s been another way over the river...’
She slid down from her palfrey and wandered slowly towards him, eyes gleaming with a look of triumph. ‘Why do you think the bridge at Haword is so small? We’ve never needed a bigger one. Didn’t you ever wonder about that?’
He rubbed a hand around the back of his neck, inwardly berating himself for his own lack of attention. He had thought about it, briefly when he’d arrived, but then he’d met her. Apparently he’d been more distracted than he’d realised. He still was. His jaw was still tingling from where she’d cradled it with her fingers, even if it had seemed more a gesture of comfort than anything else, just like when she’d touched his scar that morning. That was the real measure of his distraction—he’d never let anyone touch him there before.
‘I should have thought of it. This is better than the bridge.’
‘I know.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘There’s no need to rub salt in the wound. Why are you showing it to me now?’
‘Because you kept your word and came back, and because you made me feel better last night. I wanted to give you something in return.’
‘Doesn’t it break your promise to Stephen?’
Her lips curved in a smile that looked both guilty and gleeful at the same time. ‘I promised him I’d hold the bridge. I never mentioned anything about a ford.’
‘So you didn’t tell him about it either?’
‘No. I gave him my oath of allegiance, not all my secrets as well. You never know when those might come in handy.’
He gave a shout of laughter. ‘You know, if this gets out, it renders Haword’s position a lot less important.’
‘I know. That’s why it’s a secret.’ She swished a hand over some rushes at the water’s edge. ‘Though now I suppose you’ll have to tell Matilda.’
‘Not necessarily. What kind of a lord would I be if I gave all our secrets away? I’ll tell the Empress if I ever need to, but since Stephen’s not coming now...’ he shrugged ‘...there doesn’t seem much point at the moment.’
She smiled and he felt his loins tighten in response. It was the same breathtaking smile she’d worn when she’d come out of the keep that morning. It had caught him unawares at the time, as if she were actually pleased to see him, and the effect seemed to have become more and more arresting with each passing hour. He’d wanted to make her smile again, but he’d never imagined anything quite so powerful—or so potent either. His hands were itching with the desire to reach out and touch her. Just as they’d been that morning, when he’d had to flee her bedchamber to stop himself from gathering her into his arms and showing her just how glad he was to see her again. They were married, but she was grieving and vulnerable. Besides which, their truce was still fragile—and temporary. In the spring he was leaving, not just for Devizes, but for Normandy, possibly for good. Touching her would only complicate matters. He had to remember that—no matter how much he might want to.
‘Come on.’ He cleared his throat gruffly. ‘It’s gett
ing late.’
He led the way reluctantly back to the horses. In a couple more hours it would be dark and there was something important they needed to do before then, though he still had to ask her permission. He had no idea what her answer would be. The last thing he wanted was to rush or to force her into anything, but it was too important to delay for long...
‘What did you think of me when you first saw me?’
‘Mmm?’ He was so busy thinking about his own question that hers took him by surprise.
‘What did you think when you first saw me?’ She repeated the words, though her casual tone sounded forced somehow. ‘I told you what I thought about you.’
‘I thought you were a woman standing on some battlements.’
‘Is that all?’
He grasped hold of her palfrey’s bridle, holding the animal steady for her to mount. ‘I thought that I didn’t want to shoot you.’
She froze halfway into the saddle. ‘You thought about shooting me?’
‘No. I was just being told to.’
‘Oh.’ She dropped into the saddle with a thud. ‘By Sir Guian?
He nodded and swung up on to his stallion, vaguely discomfited by the exchange. He had the feeling that he’d disappointed her somehow, though he’d only been telling her the truth. He had thought she was a woman standing on some battlements. What else did she want from him?