The questions Alyx asked were about the camp people, questions she should have known the answers to, since she’d lived with them for months. But she felt like an outsider.
“They won’t be easy to win,” Jocelin said. “They have many grudges against you. Blanche has blamed many problems on you.”
“Blanche!” Alyx said, sitting up straight. Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.
“Blanche was the woman who caused Constance’s death. How else would she have known about Edmund Chatworth? You must hate Blanche.”
“I am through with hating.” He stood. “Would you like to see Rosamund? If you want to help the people, she can tell you how to start.”
Alyx wasn’t prepared for the changes in Rosamund. Her eyes shone so brightly when she looked at Jocelin that the birthstain on her cheek almost disappeared. Joss’s eyes were no less bright.
“Alyx would like to help you,” he said in a soft, sweet voice, taking Rosamund’s hand.
Rosamund gave Alyx a tolerant smile that made Alyx stiffen her back, and she thanked heaven for Judith’s training.
“I’m sure we can find something for you to do,” Rosamund said in her soft voice.
It took Alyx a week to make Rosamund realize she meant business. During that time Alyx worked early and late and no job was beneath her. She washed and bandaged running sores. She delivered a child to a woman eaten with the French pox and when the blind baby died, she buried it; no one else would touch the poor thing. She sang to an old woman who screamed incoherently at ghosts only she could see.
“Her ladyship’s doin’ us low ones a favor,” a man said to her as she went through the dark to her tent. “Afraid to dirty her hands, she was, and now nothin’s dirty enough for her. But I don’t see Raine bowin’ before her.”
In her tent, Alyx put her hands to her temples. Her head ached from noises and ugly smells. The sick allowed her to touch them, but the healthy people ignored her except to taunt her. And as for Raine, she rarely even saw him.
“Did you come here to win Raine or these diseased scum?” Joan asked frequently.
“Raine,” Alyx had whispered, rubbing her temples. Now the tent was empty, Joan obviously sleeping somewhere else. Alyx wasn’t used to having servants and was a failure at controlling Joan. Seeing that the water buckets were empty, Alyx grabbed them and went to the river.
Kneeling at the bank she looked about her, at the sparkling surface of the water, broken diamonds in the moonlight. A sound made her turn and her heart leaped to her throat at the sight of Raine, his big body—a body she knew so well—blocking the moon.
“Have you proven what you wanted?” he asked quietly, his voice as smooth and hard as steel. “Did you expect to bandage one nasty wound and the people would fall at your feet in gratitude? They are better judges of people than I am.”
“And pray tell me what that means,” she said, aghast.
“You are a good actress. Once I believed you were . . . honest, but I learned the hard way. I hope they do not fall as far as I did.”
She stood, hands into fists at her side. “Spare me your self-pity,” she said through her teeth. “Poor Lord Raine lowered himself to fall in love with a commoner, and then when she did her best to save him from the King’s wrath, he knew at once she’d overstepped her bounds.”
Her voice rose. “I want to tell you something, Raine Montgomery. It doesn’t matter if these people do hate me. I damn well deserve it. And as for their falling at my feet, I don’t expect them to. At least they are the honest ones. You hold yourself up like some martyr and won’t listen to anyone. Instead you’d rather believe yourself wronged and to think that only you has a sense of honor.”
“And what do you, a woman, know of honor?” he sneered.
“Very little. In fact I know very little about anything except music. But at least I’m willing to admit I have faults. I have wronged these people, and I’m trying to right my wrong. You, my high lord, have wronged me—and your daughter whom you don’t even ask about.”
“I have heard of her,” Raine said stiffly.
Alyx let out a sound that ran across Raine’s skin like a steel rasp. “How big of you!” she spat. “The great, lordly Raine, lord of the forests, king of the outlaws, has heard of his own daughter.”
She quietened. “I came here to win you back, but now I’m not sure I want you. Stay away from me. Take your cold honor to bed with you.”
“There are other women willing to share my bed,” he said, eyes hard.
“My pity goes to them,” Alyx forced out. “As for me, I prefer a different sort of man, one who is not so stiff and cold, one who is still alive.”
She did not see his arm shoot out. He was always faster, stronger, than she remembered. His strong fingers bit into the back of her waist and as her eyes locked with his, he smiled slightly, humorously, as he pulled her close to him.
Bending his head, his lips hovered above hers. “Cold, am I?” he said, and his voice sent chills down her spine.
Some small part of Alyx’s brain could still reason. He meant to teach her a lesson, did he? she thought, as she stood on tiptoe and slipped her arms about his neck.
When their lips touched, both of them drew in their breaths sharply and pulled away from each other, violet eyes staring into blue. Alyx blinked once, twice, before Raine’s mouth descended on hers with the hunger of a dying man. He straightened, his arms about her, and her feet came off the ground as he grabbed the back of her head in his strong hand and turned her head sideways. His tongue thrust inside her mouth, sending sparks so hot through her body that they seemed to burn away her strength. Her body went limp against his, allowing him to support her full weight.
His lips began working against hers, pulling her closer, his hand massaging, kneading her head, his fingers playing with the muscles in the back of her neck.
Alyx began to tighten her grip in her attempt to get nearer. Her legs moved upward until they were about his waist. She turned her head, taking the initiative as her tongue tangled with his, her teeth hard against his lips.
The sound of approaching riders, many horses strong, came through to Raine’s sense of danger. Slowly, groggily, he came out of the red fog and roughly, angrily, set Alyx away from him.
For a moment, his expression was soft; then it turned cold again. “Did you hope to entice me back to you?” he whispered. “Did you use the same weapons on Chatworth?”
It took Alyx a moment to understand what he meant. “You are a fool, Raine Montgomery,” she said softly. “Does your hate override your love?” With that, she lifted her skirts, forgetting the water buckets at her feet, and turned back to camp. Behind her she heard Raine talking to the riders, his voice unnecessarily angry.
Chapter Twenty
FOR WHAT GOOD it is,” Joan was saying as she combed Alyx’s curls, “the people are less angry with you.” There was no congratulation in Joan’s voice. “When are you going to stop wasting your time and go after Lord Raine? We’ve been here two whole weeks and still he only glares at you. You should strip off your clothes and climb into bed with him.”
“He’d gloat too much,” Alyx said, buttoning the purple wool of her sleeve. “I’ll not give him the satisfaction of winning so easily. He’s said some awful things to me.”
At this, Joan laughed. “What does it matter what men say? They have brains only for killing each other. Put a sword in a man’s hand and he’s happy. A woman must work to teach him there are things in life besides war.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Raine worries more about whether I have betrayed him than he does about how his child fares alone without its mother. Perhaps I should return to my Catherine and leave Raine to his brooding.”
“Brooding is correct,” Joan said. “Did you know that he has slept with no woman since he returned from Lord Gavin’s?”
Alyx’s smile started small and stretched very wide.
“He loves you, Alyx,” Joan said softly.
&
nbsp; “Then why doesn’t he show it! Why does he sneer and glower at me? When I am with Rosamund I’ll look up and there he’ll be, watching me with his cold looks. I feel as if I’ve had the icy river water tossed on my body.”
Joan laughed delightedly. “He is showing you that he cares! What do you expect him to do—apologize?” Joan laughed even harder at this idea. “The Lord made women stronger so they could put up with men’s weaknesses. You say you were wrong to treat the forest people as you did, so you admitted it and set about changing your error. Do you think any man could be so strong?”
“Raine has accused me of being a traitor,” she said stubbornly.
“The King has said Lord Raine is a traitor. The King is wrong, but will he admit it? No more so than your husband will come to you and ask you to forgive him.”
“I don’t like this,” Alyx said, her lower lip thrust out. “I have done no wrong to Raine. Roger Chatworth—”
“Damn Chatworth!” Joan said. “Raine’s pride is hurt. You stayed beside some other man instead of your husband. Above all else, men expect blind loyalty.”
“I am loyal, it is—”
She cut herself off when a breathless Jocelin burst into the tent unannounced.
“You should come,” he said to Alyx. “Maybe you can prevent a death.”
“Whose?” Alyx asked, standing immediately and following Joss before he could answer.
“Brian Chatworth has just begged entrance into the camp. Raine is donning armor to meet him.”
“But Judith said Brian loved Mary, that Brian brought her body back to them.”
“Maybe it’s the name Chatworth. That alone would send Raine into a rage.”
Jocelin pulled Alyx onto a horse and set out quickly, dodging tree branches as they rode. When at last they stopped, the sight ahead of them surprised Alyx. In a small clearing, lit by the early morning sun, stood a young man. He was small, slight, even delicate. Yet he had the facial features of Roger Chatworth. Had Alyx seen him elsewhere she would have guessed this near boy was Roger’s son.
Alyx slid off the horse before Joss could dismount. “May I welcome you?” she said, walking toward the boy. “I am Alyxandria Montgomery, Lord Raine’s wife. I have met your brother.”
Brian pulled himself to his full height. “I have no brother,” he said in a surprisingly masculine voice. “I come to join Lord Raine in his fight to avenge his sister’s death.”
“Oh, my,” Alyx said, astonished. “I had hoped you offered some solution to this feud.”
“We’re all wishing that,” came a voice from above Alyx’s head.
She looked up but could see no one. “Who are? You’re not one of Raine’s guards.”
“Oh, but I am, and are you truly Raine’s wife?”
Alyx listened to the voice, sure she’d never heard it before, yet something about it was familiar. It was definitely a voice full of humor. She glanced at Brian and Jocelin. Brian’s face was immobile, too hard for one so young, while Joss gave a shrug.
Her attention was suddenly given to the appearance of Raine riding his great heavy war horse, wearing full armor, covered from head to foot in steel.
Dismounting, he walked toward Brian Chaworth, and the young man did not flinch. One blow from Raine’s hand would have been enough to send him sprawling. “Do you plan to hide behind my wife’s skirts?” Raine said in a low voice. “She is known to protect Chatworths.”
Alyx put herself between Brian and Raine. “And do you make war on children?” she yelled up at him. “Can’t you listen to him? Or are you too pig-headed to give the boy a chance?”
Raine never said a word to Alyx because laughter coming from the trees made him halt.
Alyx watched, openmouthed, as a man dropped to the ground. He was wearing the most extraordinary clothes she had ever seen: a big-sleeved shirt, a soft yellow color, was covered by a bright blue tartan blanket wrapped about his waist in such a way that it formed a skirt and then was tossed over one shoulder, a heavy belt holding it in place. His knees were bare, his calves encased in heavy wool socks, thick shoes on his feet.
“Stephen,” Raine breathed, his eyes softening.
“Aye, ’tis me,” this oddly dressed man said. He was tall and slim with dark blond hair, a very handsome man. “I’ve brought this boy to you. He wants to share your exile and would like to learn from you.”
“He’s a Chatworth,” Raine said, his eyes hardening again.
“Yes, he’s a Chatworth,” Alyx said. “And you’ll not forgive him, will you? No doubt you’ll hate this man for daring to bring him here. Go,” she said to Stephen. “It’s no use trying to reason with him. He has a piece of wood for a brain.”
To her surprise, Stephen began to laugh, a great, deep, joyful laugh.
“Oh, Raine,” he cried, slapping Raine on his armored shoulder, making the steel rattle. “How Gavin and I have prayed for this time. So you’ve fallen head over heels for a woman who fights you at every step? Gavin had written us what a sweet, helpful, congenial little thing our new sister was.” He turned to Alyx. “Judith said you had a strong voice, but a moment ago you nearly knocked me from the tree.”
“You are Stephen Montgomery,” Alyx said in wonder. He did look a bit like Gavin, but besides his clothing, his accent was strange.
“MacArran,” Stephen corrected, smiling at her. “I am married to the MacArran and my name is hers. Now do I get a kiss or would you rather fight with my brother?”
“Oh, a kiss!” Alyx said so enthusiastically that Stephen laughed again before drawing her into his arms. His kiss was less than brotherly. “Can you help me talk some sense into him?” she whispered. “He is obsessed with the Chatworths.”
Stephen winked as he released her, turning back to Raine. “I’ve come a long way, brother. Will you offer me no refreshment?”
“And what about him?” Raine motioned toward Brian.
“He may come, too,” Stephen laughed. “He can help me disarm you. And you, Alyx, will join us?”
“If I am invited,” she said, looking directly at Raine.
“I invite you,” Stephen said, as he threw an arm around Alyx’s shoulders and started forward. “Follow us, Brian,” he called over his shoulder.
“Are you always so courageous?” Alyx asked, looking up at Stephen.
Stephen’s face was serious. “How long has he been like this?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Unsmiling, angry, glaring at everyone. This isn’t like Raine.”
She thought a moment before she answered. “He has been this way since Mary’s death.”
Stephen nodded once. “Raine would take it hard. That’s one reason why I brought Brian. They are very much alike. Brian is eaten with hatred for his brother. And what of you? My brother’s black moods don’t frighten you?”
“He thinks I’ve betrayed him.”
“Yes, Gavin and Judith told me.”
Her voice became louder. “He won’t listen to me. I tried to explain, but he sent my letters back unopened. And he won’t listen to Gavin, either.”
Stephen squeezed her shoulders. “Gavin will always think of Raine and Miles as children. Raine and Gavin can’t be in a room two minutes without arguing. Stay with me and I’ll see if I can make him listen.”
Alyx gave him such a radiant smile that Stephen laughed. “My Bronwyn will have your heart on a platter if you keep looking at me like that. Can you really sing as well as Judith says?”
“Better,” Alyx said with such confidence that Stephen laughed again.
They stopped before Raine’s tent and Stephen muttered something about wasting money that Alyx didn’t understand. Rather like a sulky boy, Raine followed them inside and, after one malevolent look cast at Alyx, turned to Stephen. “What has caused you to travel so far south? Have those Scots tossed you out?”
“I came to meet my new sister-in-law, of course.”
“She would prefer that you were a Chatworth.”
Stephen paused, Raine’s helmet in his hand. “I cannot allow you to say such things,” he said quietly. “Don’t cause a quarrel between us. Do you plan to disown me because I have brought a Chatworth to your camp?”
“You are my brother,” Raine said flatly.
“Meaning that you trust me?” There was laughter under his voice. “Tell me, brother, what bothered you the most, that your wife talked to a Chatworth or that she dared to talk to any handsome man?”
“Chatworth!” Raine said loudly, with a glance at Alyx, who was studying her fingernails.
“Did I ever tell you the trick Hugh Lasco played on me?” Stephen knelt to unbuckle Raine’s leg protectors.
As Stephen began to tell some long-winded, slightly unbelievable tale, Alyx watched Raine. After a while she began to understand Stephen’s point. Stephen had believed all manner of low-minded things about his wife, and as a result of his mistrust, he’d almost lost her.
“Alyx,” Stephen turned to her suddenly. “Are you in love with Roger Chatworth? Are you contemplating leaving Raine for him?”
The idea was so ridiculous that Alyx laughed—until she saw the smoldering light in Raine’s eyes. “Roger Chatworth deserves to die for what he did to Mary but not at my husband’s hands. He’s not worth seeing Raine hanged for his murder.”
For a moment Alyx thought Raine might be listening to her, but the moment passed as he sat down on the cot and began removing the cotton pads that protected his skin from the steel armor. “Women have glib tongues,” he murmured.
Stephen glanced at Alyx, saw her eyes shoot fire. “You have my permission to take an ax to him,” he said amiably. “Alyx, could you fetch us some food? I may die of hunger soon.”
As soon as they were alone, Raine turned to his brother. “Why have you come? Surely you want more than to step between my wife and me.”
“Someone should,” Stephen snapped. “Her heart is in her eyes. Can’t you forgive her? She doesn’t know our ways, and women have such strange ideas about honor. I hear you haven’t seen your daughter. She looks like you.”
Raine refused to be swayed. “Why did you bring Chatworth?”
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