Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt

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by War Of Hearts. txt (lit)


  Jeremy started to sit down, then straightened and began

  to pace instead.

  “Your own actions are partly at fault. Your mistrust

  has raised her guard.”

  Jeremy clenched his jaw and, without thinking,

  fingered the hilt of his dagger. “I’ve reason not to trust

  her.”

  William’s brows rose. “Has she betrayed us in any

  way to anyone?”

  “Nay, not yet,” was the grimly firm reply.

  “Has she mistreated or neglected any of the men?”

  “Nay. She’s treated every man’s wounds...including

  mine.”

  “And saved my life. Do traitors act thus?”

  A long pause ensued before Jeremy sat down beside

  the bed. “I presume not.”

  “You suspect her because she’s a woman.” At Jeremy’s

  grimace, William’s tone softened. “I understand your

  misgivings. But all women don’t favor Estelle Hawk or

  your female kin. You can’t condemn the entire gender for

  those few.”

  “I’ll strive to remember that, my lord.” His jaw

  tightened. “But only Manfred’s Lucinda is faithful,

  because he keeps her so with his fist. Edward treated

  Blanche kindly. She sought to cuckold him with me, and

  succeeded with one of his retainers. And Estelle—“ Jeremy

  swallowed. “But you know all, having been my family’s

  lifelong friend.”

  “I’ve offended you.” William sighed. “I wish you no

  hurt. You’re as a son to me. But you must stop your

  rancor. My God, you can’t distrust half of all mankind!”

  Jeremy moved to the window and braced both hands

  on the sill. “And why not? Man fell from grace because of

  woman.”

  “History cannot be undone. But you need not think

  that women are good for naught more than tumbling into

  bed.”

  Jeremy shot a look over his shoulder. “Of course, my

  lord. Women cook, clean and sew. My kindly childhood

  nurse—”

  “This situation hardly calls for jocundity, Sir Jeremy.”

  Despite William’s abruptly formal tone, Jeremy didn’t

  relent. He turned to approach the bed, saying as he did

  so, “If Adam had felt as I do, instead of being seduced by

  the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, then Man would

  be in the Garden still.”

  “Be assured Man would have fallen eventually, my

  friend,” William replied dryly. “Even you can’t keep a

  woman abed all the day ‘round.”

  ***

  “Hercules, get your nose out of those oats and let me

  brush your face,” Alicen scolded her gelding as she

  groomed him late that afternoon. “You think of naught

  but food. Fat swine.”

  The bay snorted, tossing his head and knocking the

  brush from her hand. It landed on the opposite side of

  the stall, leaving her with two options—crawling under

  his belly or going around to retrieve the tool. Sighing, she

  moved toward his rump.

  “Wretched beast,” she grumbled.

  “I’ll get it.”

  The deep voice brought her up short. Startled, she

  turned to see Jeremy Blaine’s broad-shouldered figure

  five steps away. Fear swept through her like a fever. She

  froze as he bent to retrieve the brush, her first thought

  that he had come to punish her for her audacity. They

  were alone. Her gaze darted to the door behind him, and

  she tensed, ready to fight him if need be or run if the

  chance presented itself.

  With a pang of regret Jeremy noted Alicen’s terror.

  She thought he’d harm her. And based upon his previous

  conduct, he had to admit her fears had some justification.

  He must proceed with caution so as not to frighten her

  more.

  Summoning a slight smile, he asked in his most civil

  manner, “Have you another brush? If I groom this side

  while you do the other, the work will be done in half the

  time.”

  Alicen went weak with relief. Moving swiftly, but not

  fast enough to betray her anxiety, she put Hercules’

  comforting bulk between herself and the fearsome soldier.

  Still, her hands shook when she reached for a second

  coat brush to resume the grooming.

  Moments passed in strained silence as neither spoke.

  Risking a glance across the horse’s back, she saw Blaine

  intent upon his task. She wasn’t comforted. Memory of

  his intimidating manner remained fresh. Even garbed in

  a plain tunic, hose and short boots, he looked every bit

  the warrior.

  Jeremy groomed the gelding’s coat to a deep gloss.

  Finishing, he patted the sleek neck and ran his hand

  across the muscled withers.

  “A fine animal,” he said appreciatively, catching

  Alicen’s wary look. “You must value him highly.”

  She rubbed the horse’s soft muzzle and returned

  Blaine’s perusal with more courage than she actually

  possessed. “Indeed I do. Hercules is a good friend.”

  “Hercules,” Jeremy mused aloud. “One possessing

  great strength. It fits him.” At her frankly surprised

  expression, he added, “Not every soldier is an ignorant

  lout, Mistress Kent.”

  She lowered her gaze, embarrassed he’d guessed her

  thoughts.

  “And, not every soldier behaves as despicably as I

  have toward you.” He paused before adding, “Even though

  your deeds provoked me.”

  Alicen’s cheeks flushed. Her head snapped up.

  “Mayhap you acted within your authority, Captain,” she

  retorted, “but the punishment was unjustly cruel.”

  “Citizens have no say in military matters,” he

  returned, stunned at how swiftly their conversation had

  gone from horses to apologies to argument.

  “Landeyda is my home. Seeing it turned into an

  encampment appalls me.” She clutched Hercules’ mane

  in her left hand.

  “Were the duke able, I’d take him from here. He’s

  not. And no matter how loathsome, we must tolerate the

  present situation.”

  “I may tolerate it, but I’ll never enjoy it.”

  “’Twould be more pleasant if you occupied yourself

  solely with healing.” He leveled a cold look at her.

  Her narrowed gaze locked on his, and she stood tall.

  “Then will you not occupy yourself with healing, Captain?”

  “What do you mean?” His scowl carried through to

  his tone.

  “Will I be able to aid all who need my attention?”

  “You circumvented my order concerning Naismith

  quite easily, from what I understand.”

  She paled at that barb but held her ground. “May I

  perform my tasks with no soldier following?”

  Both his look and tone brooked no argument. “For as

  long as the duke remains here, no.”

  “Then I am your captive.” She took a shuddering

  breath.

  He gaped in surprise at her conclusion. “You’ll not be

  kept here against your will. But you’ll be escorted when

  you leave.”

  Her right fist strangled the
handle of the brush she

  held. “You think me a traitor! How could you?”

  “A soldier’s intuition, I suppose.”

  “Lucifer take your intuition,” she cried, hurling the

  brush to the floor. Hercules jerked his head, but Alicen

  ignored him. “I take no sides in this—or any—dispute!”

  Jeremy eyed her speculatively, carefully gauging her

  state of mind. He found he preferred her anger over her

  fear. “You treated the men we captured after the ambush,

  did you not?”

  “Aye.” She hesitated, sensing a trap. “But they were

  well guarded—”

  “You’d treat a mercenary, a deserter or a traitor if the

  scoundrel presented himself at your door, would you not?”

  “I’ve had little occasion to do so.” Except for Orrick.

  “But you’d not hesitate,” he accused.

  “Nay, I’d not hesitate.” At the triumphant glint in his

  eyes she added, “I’m a physician, Captain. I treat the ill.

  Social station, political beliefs...have naught to do with

  the ill needing care.”

  “And that is precisely why I trust you not. If you’d

  bind a man’s wounds regardless of his fealty, you’ve no

  loyalty to your liege lord.” Crossing his arms over his chest,

  Jeremy assumed a posture of stubborn pugnacity.

  Anger drove Alicen’s fear away. “When you see a child

  or a woman attacked, Captain, do you ask where her

  loyalties lie before deciding to aid her?” she challenged.

  “My allegiance is not in question here.”

  “Yet mine is, despite my saving William’s life.”

  “You yourself said you’d aid anyone.”

  She stared at him, noting the stubborn set of his jaw,

  and knew for certain the futility of argument. She shook

  her head. “You see what you wish to see, and in your

  eyes I am untrue.”

  At this sudden acquiescence, his brow rose. “You

  could disprove that accusation.”

  She shrugged. “Yet ’tis truth I’ve sworn to treat all

  who need me. Thus, I’ll refuse no one. Nor will I betray

  William or seek out his foes.” She paused before saying

  slowly, “I understand not why you so despise me, sir. I’ve

  done little to deserve such animosity except to speak my

  mind. And if honesty is so intolerable to you, I can only

  wonder at your rise to favor in the duke’s service.”

  Staring at his face, she caught a play of...what?

  Sadness? Regret? Startled, she looked again, but the

  knight’s expression had become closely guarded.

  Silently, Jeremy hung his brush on a nearby peg and

  left the stable.

  Five

  “I tried to apologize, but that wretched woman

  wouldn’t let me,” Jeremy seethed as he sat by William’s

  bed the next morning studying a sheaf of messages. “She

  detests soldiers—”

  “As much as you mistrust women,” the duke broke

  in archly.

  The knight grunted. “So it seems.” He tried to focus

  on the writing before him, but couldn’t get Alicen’s image

  out of his mind. Tension twisted in his belly.

  William laughed weakly. “What a pair you make.

  Forced together and ready to rend each other at the least

  provocation.”

  “I see no humor in this,” Jeremy muttered, lifting his

  gaze to the duke. “Were you fit to ride, we’d leave this

  miserable place.”

  “I enjoy her, though her unwed state vexes me,”

  William asserted. Then he added slyly, “Mayhap I should

  invite her back to Tynan to find her a match.”

  Jeremy’s entire body went rigid. “Take her to Tynan?

  Jesu forbid it! You’d force me to rejoin Bedford in France

  to get as far away from her as possible.”

  “Why would her presence plague you? I’ll see her wed

  to some clerk, and you’ll be well quit of her.”

  “What man would willingly marry such a hoyden?”

  The knight shuddered. “She’d harry him unto his grave.”

  The older man’s dark eyes twinkled. “You don’t find

  her at all attractive?”

  “Much too slender,” Jeremy scoffed. “I like a woman

  with flesh on her, not one who’s shaped like a lad.”

  “A curvaceous lad, I’d say. With all that rich chestnut

  hair, and those eyes—” William’s expression turned

  thoughtful as he covertly studied his captain.

  “Her eyes carry only daggers for me. I hardly remarked

  her hair.”

  William nodded as if answering his own unvoiced

  question. “Mayhap you were far too preoccupied with her

  shape to note any of her other fine features.”

  Too angry to hear the duke’s sudden change in tone,

  Jeremy stated, “Hell will resemble a Norse winter ‘ere I’m

  preoccupied with any of that shrew’s features.”

  Yet even as he swore this declaration, his reaction

  when Alicen tended his wound—and his visions at the

  tavern—filled his mind and belied his oath. Sweet Jesu,

  how could women do such things to rational men?

  He was struggling to return to his letters when the

  infirmary door burst open and Taft rushed in.

  “What the devil,” Jeremy exclaimed, springing to his

  feet.

  “Come quickly! Our rider approaches at a dead

  gallop.”

  Jeremy cast a glance at William.

  “Go,” the duke ordered.

  Taft spun on his heel and left, his captain right behind

  in a sprint to the courtyard.

  “’Tis Fish, sir!” cried the watchman at the gate.

  Both officers rushed to where Fish pulled his lathered

  mount to a halt at the stable.

  “Enemy soldiers,” Fish gasped, sliding from his saddle.

  “A league north of Sherford. Search party.”

  Expression cold, Jeremy sent a look at Taft then

  turned back to Fish. “How many?”

  “Two score at least. Takin’ care to check buildings an’

  such.”

  “Looking for their missing patrol?” Taft speculated.

  “No doubt.” Jeremy directed his next question to Fish.

  “How long before they arrive here?”

  “An hour at the least, Cap’n. They don’t seem in a

  hurry, but they’re surely after somethin’.”

  “Nicely done, Malcolm.” Jeremy clapped him on the

  shoulder. “You may have given us time to escape their

  net.”

  He turned to the men gathered behind him and began

  snapping orders. In moments, all were racing to carry

  out his commands.

  Although he schooled his features to show nothing,

  Jeremy couldn’t help turning to stare at Alicen’s cottage.

  “How will we protect William?” Taft asked soberly,

  following his commander’s gaze.

  Expression hard, Jeremy said, “I’ll inform our hostess

  that guests approach.” He strode to the cottage, Taft

  following.

  ***

  “As we cannot retreat, you and the seriously wounded

  will remain inside,” Jeremy explained to Alicen, looking

  around the circle of men for their affirmation. “The rest

  of us will deter
any of Harold’s troop who seek entrance

  at the gate.”

  She paled. “You cannot fight here!”

  Her intense declaration gave Jeremy momentary

  pause. Behind him, the men were tautly silent. “’Tis as

  good a place as any, considering the wall surrounding

  it.”

  “Nay! Even did the odds favor you, I’d not allow a

  battle.” A hint of desperation tinged her bold

  announcement.

  Jeremy’s jaw tightened. “You threatened to kill the

  duke just a few nights past.”

  “To protect Ned,” came her terse reply. “You drove

  me to voice an empty threat.”

  Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest in his most

  intimidating pose. “As you said, William cannot be moved,

  so we’ll defend him here. You’ve no choice in this matter.”

  She shook her head, her body shaking as well with

  the force of her emotions. “My home is no killing ground.

  ’Tis a place of healing. To fight here is to destroy a sacred

  trust.”

  Though her voice had faded to a whisper, Jeremy was

  certain every man heard her words, spoken with such

  exquisite anguish as to touch all with their poignancy.

  She lifted her gaze to his, torment clear in the green depths

  of her eyes.

  Something in his chest tightened, but he instantly

  tamped down his sympathy.

  “You’d have us surrender without a fight?” he asked

  evenly.

  “Nay, no fight is necessary. The sign of plague will

  deter them. They’ll not dare risk their lives to enter.”

  “And if they heed not the warning?”

  “Ned and I will burn clothing and bed linen to warn

  them further of the danger here.”

  “Aye, there’d be truth to that,” Jeremy replied coldly

  as he rested a hand on his sword hilt. He studied her

  tense features. “Do you plot a trick to trap us?”

  She flinched, but didn’t allow her conviction to falter.

  “There will be no killing here.”

  “Mayhap we’ll keep the boy with us, to assure your

  loyalty.”

  Anger flared in Alicen’s suddenly narrowed eyes. “I’ll

  allow no killing at Landeyda. That’s where my loyalty lies.”

  Jeremy shrugged as if discounting her statement.

  “We’ve the element of surprise to aid us.”

  “And fewer than a dozen able-bodied men. Against

  forty.” Unbidden images of a massacre assailed her.

 

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