“Aye, they are well, considering their worry.”
She sprinkled some herbs onto a dab of grease, stirring the whole into an ointment. “You know then that Sir Goddard is no longer in charge here,” she said, smoothing the concoction across the palm of Dylan’s right hand.
“Aye,” he responded, his dark eyes meeting hers. “One of the watchers reported seeing the loathsome bastard leave alongside his companions. The next day, Father saw you by the river with the tall Norman… this Paxton de Beaumont.”
So, Rhys was in the woods after all, Alana thought. She was glad her uncle hadn’t emerged from the cover of the forest that day. By keeping himself secreted, he had at least some inkling as to why she hadn’t been able to meet him.
“You already know his name?” she inquired, surprised by Dylan’s use of it.
“Not until today, when young Aldwyn offered me a dipper of water. He was able to tell me some things, but not all that I want to know.”
She had finished with his right hand, having wrapped it in a linen bandage, and was now attending to his left. “Which is?” she asked while applying the ointment.
“Is he treating you well?”
“Who… Paxton?” She saw Dylan’s nod. “He’s not mistreating me. He is, however, suspicious of my account of how Gilbert died. I fear he intends to keep digging until he unearths the truth. You must tell Rhys to stay far from the fortress. Paxton is not like Sir Goddard. He rarely takes more than one cup of wine. He is skilled and astute. There is no laxness about him, nor about the men who serve him. They are all warriors, Dylan. Once you cross back over the river, do not come here again. Tomorrow I want you gone.”
The other bandage tied off around his hand, he flexed his fingers. “Not unless you come with me,” he stated. “That’s why Rhys has sent me… to take you where he’s assured you’ll be safe.”
“I cannot leave.”
“Why?”
“Because I will not desert my father’s people.”
“What about your mother’s people. Don’t we count for anything?”
“You know you do. And that too is why I cannot leave here. He already mistrusts me. Should I suddenly disappear, he’ll know I was playing him false… lying, not just to him but also to Henry when I told them that Gilbert drowned. I’ll not risk his coming after me in his need to see justice is done. If he found me in your company… well, I’d hate to think what would happen then.”
“If he does come upon us,” Dylan returned, “you can be certain he’ll meet the same fate as your husband did.”
“He won’t be alone, Dylan. Even if he were, don’t you think there will be retribution? If not from his men, then certainly from Henry. I cannot and will not see my family slaughtered, no matter which side it is.” She paused and regarded him closely. “On the day Sir Goddard and the others left here, did any of you follow them?”
Dylan’s eyes were at once shuttered. “’Tis best that you don’t question me on that. The less you know the better off you will be.”
A sinking feeling encompassed her. “You’ve answered my fears. Why, Dylan? Is it too much to ask that you try to keep peace with our enemies?”
“That is the point, Alana. If we sit back and do nothing, they will continue to encroach. This land is not theirs. Therefore they must be driven from it. If it means killing them to ensure their expulsion, then it will be done.”
She shook her head in defeat. “One day Henry’s anger will erupt, and he’ll ride against us. I don’t mind telling you I’m afraid of the cost.”
Dylan’s fingers caressed her cheek. “You worry too much. If Henry rides against us, we’ll be ready.”
“But the slaughter—I couldn’t abide it if you, or Rhys, or your brothers were to die.”
“Hush,” he whispered, his finger falling over her lips. “Death does not frighten us. Becoming slaves to a conqueror does. This land is ours, Alana, and we will fight to the very last man to keep it that way.”
She caught his hand and pressed her cheek to his palm. “I know. But I’d much prefer a peaceful settlement.”
“Unfortunately, that will not come… not without bloodshed.” He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Come. We should get back to the hall before this Paxton de Beaumont becomes suspicious and starts searching for you. I noticed he watches you inordinately.”
“Only because he hopes I’ll err in some manner, thereby giving him the clue he’s looking for.”
Dylan shrugged. “Perhaps. But you are quite lovely of face, Cousin. And he is a man. His intense interest might have something to do with your being a woman.”
“Pah!” she exclaimed, slamming the lid on the chest. “His only interest is to discover how Gilbert died, naught else.”
“We’ll see. But I warn you, if he lays a hand on you, he’ll wish he hadn’t. Rhys was against your marrying Gilbert, but in your perpetual desire to keep the peace, you insisted the union go forth. You know how that ended.”
“Do not fret, Dylan. One Norman was more than enough for me. I promise you: There’ll not be a second.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Husband or Norman?” he inquired.
Because there were few secrets kept between them, Dylan was aware of her distaste for the marriage bed, hence his query. “Both,” she said. “Now get back to the hall before we are found.”
He pulled her into his arm, giving her a hug. “I’ll tell Rhys you refused to leave here. He’ll not be pleased, but I’ll make certain he abides by your wishes. For now, at least.”
“Thank you, Dylan,” she whispered, returning his embrace. Of all her relatives, he was her favorite. Perhaps it was because they were so close in age, Dylan being only two years her senior. “I knew you’d understand.” She pulled back. “Tell your father that I’ll try to get word to him as to what is happening with me. When we part in a moment, for safety’s sake, I believe it’s best we stay at opposite sides of the hall. And whatever you do, once you depart altogether, don’t come back. Not one of you, do you hear? As long as Paxton de Beaumont remains here, stay far from the castle. For all our sakes.”
“We’ll keep to our side of the river. But be assured, you’ll be watched.” He kissed her cheek. “Farewell, Alana. Stay well.”
“A safe journey to you, Dylan,” she called as he made his way to the door. Genuine tears stung her eyes when he closed the panel, for she was sad to see him go.
Where was she?
Paxton scanned the room from corner to corner. He hadn’t noticed exactly when Alana had slipped away, but in his estimation, she’d been gone far too long. He was about to rise, intending to search her out, when he saw her coming from the direction of the kitchens, a pitcher in each hand.
He continued to watch her. Soon he found himself fascinated by her graceful moves as she glided alongside one of the tables, refilling the empty cups with milk.
She was incredibly beautiful, but it was her unaffected manner that actually held him spellbound.
The method in which she held her head when she pondered something, the way her lips fanned out into an impish smile when she was amused, the spark of joy that lit her face when she was happy, the dark fire that flashed in her eyes when she was angry… and of course, her tears—he could never forget her tears!—all these things caused his heart to pound and his loins to stir.
Damn! He wanted her. Would even consider taking her as his wife. If he could only rid himself of his doubts.
“I thought you said you were going to see how Sir Goddard was faring,” Graham stated. “Have you since changed your mind?”
“Nay. I haven’t changed my mind. In fact, I’m going to his quarters now.” Paxton came up off the bench. “Keep a close eye on the Lady Alana for me, will you? I trust her not.”
“That’s obvious enough,” Graham remarked. “As for myself, it is with great pleasure I accept my duty. After all, she is quite pleasing to the eye.”
Paxton leaned close to Graham’s ear. “Sir Gilbert thought t
hat as well. He now lies in his grave. I suggest you temper your interest, or you might soon be lying beside him.”
Not waiting for a reply, Paxton crossed the hall to the door, heading for the garrison and Sir Goddard’s quarters.
On entering the storeroom, which had been cleared to accommodate the knight, his cursing and moaning disrupting everyone’s sleep within the barracks. Paxton clenched his jaw when he saw the man was guzzling deeply from his cup.
“Is it so difficult for you to remain sober at least one night?” he asked as he crossed to the table where the knight sat.
Wiping his mouth with his arm, Sir Goddard turned red-rimmed eyes Paxton’s way. “’Tis the only way I can forget.” He waved at his bandages which were scattered across his chest and torso. “Besides, it eases my pain.”
Paxton caught Sir Goddard’s wrist as he reached for the flagon to refill his cup. “And what was your excuse prior to the unfortunate occurrence that recently befell you? Or were you trying to forget something then as well?”
“What do you think?” the knight snarled, shaking Paxton’s hand from his wrist. “This forsaken outpost and the people in it are enough to cause any man to seek his cups, so he can relieve his misery.”
Paxton seized the flagon just as Sir Goddard’s hand met its handle. “First, we talk,” he said, holding the container fast. “Afterward, you may drink yourself into oblivion, if that is your preference.”
Casting Paxton a dissenting glare, Sir Goddard soon uncurled his fingers from the handle. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked, slumping over his empty cup.
“The Lady Alana,” Paxton stated, seating himself on the extra stool.
“Ah, the bitch herself,” Sir Goddard announced, his gaze meeting Paxton’s across the table. “What do you want to know about the slut?”
Paxton bristled at the terms used to describe Alana. “I know your opinion of her, so you may save the aspersions on her character. Just answer my questions. And try to do so in a more chivalrous manner.”
Sir Goddard snorted. “Whatever you desire. Now get to the interrogation, so I can get back to my wine.”
Paxton’s eyes narrowed. The man was totally lost to the drink. He could not and would not be helped. “Who, if anyone, assisted the Lady Alana from the river the day Gilbert died? Where was she found? Who sounded the alarm? Tell me all that occurred.”
Sir Goddard frowned. “No one assisted her. She came stumbling into the fortress sometime after dark, looking a fright. She was asking for her husband. ‘Where’s Gilbert? Find him. I need him,’” the knight whined, mimicking a woman’s voice. “It was then we knew something was amiss, for none of us had seen either of them since early that morning, when they left through the side gate.
“We told her such, and that’s when she began babbling about falling into the river, insisting we go searching for Gilbert, because she feared he may have jumped in after her.
“With torches in hand, a band of us accompanied her to the point where she said it happened. We found no trace of Sir Gilbert… even crossed to the other side of the river to walk the bank. The rain started again, so we gave up our search. We found him the next morning, a mile downstream.”
It was Paxton’s turn to frown. “If the water was raging, how did you get across the river?”
“Easy. By way of the footbridge.”
“Footbridge? Where?”
“It no longer exists. Before I cut it down, it spanned the river about a half mile up from where Gilbert’s body was found. The ropes still hang from the trees where the bridge was anchored.”
“Why did you destroy it?”
“To keep her kin from coming and going whenever they fancied. I figured the harder it was for them to cross over, the better off we’d all be.”
Paxton drummed his fingers on the table’s surface. “The day I arrived here you claimed you never prevented her folk from leaving the castle whenever they wished. Now your words indicate otherwise. Did you or didn’t you hold them captive?”
Sir Goddard looked puzzled. “Hold them captive?”
“Aye. The bridge—you said you had cut it down to keep them from coming and going whenever they fancied.”
“I wasn’t talking about her kin here at the castle. I was referring to those across the river.”
Paxton jerked to attention. “She has kin across the river?”
“Aye. They are a raucous bunch, far more worrisome than any of the group who live here. None of them are to be trusted,” Sir Goddard stated, “but the ones across the river can be trusted least of all. That’s why I destroyed the bridge. Though it didn’t keep them from crossing over, the downing of the structure made it less convenient for them to do so.”
“Then when you said her kin attacked you, it was those across the river that you were referring to?”
“Aye. Who else did you think I meant?”
“Since I was unaware she had other relatives until now, I thought you just meant your attackers were Welsh.” Paxton believed that because he’d allowed Alana to convince him that it was fact. “Did you recognize any of them?”
“Nay. Their faces were painted, as is their custom when they fight. But they were her kin all right. No doubt they saw us leave… followed us until they found the opportune time to attack.
“We were in a valley when the clamor started—drums pounding, trumpets blowing, shouts sounding. In a twinkling, they came streaming down around us, tossing their darts. Arrows and lances were flying. We had no time to react.”
The knight shuddered from the memory and reached for the flagon. Paxton made no attempt to stop him. “Where do these relatives of hers live?” he inquired, watching as the wine sloshed into Sir Goddard’s cup.
“In a crude ringwork, about four or five miles west of the river.”
“Have you been there?”
“Nay,” the knight said, after swilling his drink. “But I’ve heard that is where they live.” He drained the cup, again reaching for the flagon. “Sir Gilbert—rest his soul—was there and told me about the place.”
Paxton had come here seeking answers. They were given to him. But during his grilling of Sir Goddard, more questions had arisen. And there was only one person who could respond to the new queries that abounded inside his head.
“I shall leave you to your wine,” he said, rising from the stool.
Sir Goddard grunted his agreement, and Paxton headed for the door.
The instant he entered the hall his eyes began searching for Alana. Not seeing her, he marched toward Sir Graham. “Where is she?” he asked on reaching Graham’s side.
A deep line creased the area between Graham’s eyebrows as he stared up at Paxton from where he sat on the bench. “And a pleasant good evening to you,” he remarked, chiding Paxton for his abruptness.
“Amenities are not high on my list of priorities at the moment. Tell me: Where has she gone?”
“She took herself up the steps to her chamber. I believe she has retired for the night.”
Paxton didn’t hear the last of Graham’s words, for he was striding toward the stairs and the gallery above.
Once he reached her chamber, he didn’t bother announcing himself by knocking. He released the latch and proceeded inside.
The sight presented to him caused his blood to rush and his loins to stir.
For Alana had just stepped from her bath.
CHAPTER
5
Maledictions galore came to mind, each and every one to do with Paxton and his parentage, but stunned silence was all that Alana could manage at his unconscionable invasion into her chamber.
Did the man possess no sense of decency whatsoever?
Obviously not. Otherwise he would have at least knocked.
Gauging him, she retained a death grip on the linen bath sheet, hugging it to her breasts and hips. It was then she shivered.
The insuppressible reaction was caused not by the room’s chill, the cool evening air flowing through
the open window and skimming her wet skin, but by the effect of Paxton’s intense gaze.
Her heart tripped faster as his hooded eyes caressed her from head to foot. Never had a man looked at her with such ardent interest, not even Gilbert.
Words of protest had formed in her throat, but refused to pass over her tongue. Her cheeks flamed with equal amounts of indignation and embarrassment, her face growing hotter and hotter.
The spasms choking her voice subsided, and Alana at last admonished, “How dare you infringe on my privacy. Take yourself from my chamber this instant and close the door behind you.”
To her utter dismay, he stood firm. Then a knowing smile spread across his face, a dimple showing on each sun-bronzed cheek.
“And if I decide not to leave, what will you do then?” he asked. “Eject me?”
He laughed wickedly, tauntingly; Alana hugged the bath sheet even tighter.
“I fear milady is at a disadvantage,” he continued. “You’re protected by only a flimsy piece of cloth. Should you attempt to toss me out into the hall, the ensuing struggle will, in all likelihood, dislodge the thing altogether.
“As a result, my curiosity will be rewarded, my eyes no longer robbed of what they desire to see. On the other hand, your embarrassment will increase, all your secrets having been revealed… almost all, that is.
“Therefore, considering what could happen, I suggest we stay as we are. Believe me. It will be far safer, especially for you.”
By the way he surveyed her, his irises having deepened to a midnight blue, Alana had little choice but to acknowledge that he was right. She was tempted to tug at the tail of the bath sheet, wrapping the whole around her, but she feared any movement might unveil far more than what she meant to hide. With her blush now fanning down to her shoulders, she elected to stay as she was.
“I hope you have an adequate explanation as to why you barged in on me like this,” she stated, fighting against her nervousness. “Justify your rudeness.”
“I want to know why you lied to me.”
Alana grew very still. Had he somehow learned the truth about Gilbert’s death?
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