other women, he thought, still staring at her. Healing, he
reluctantly admitted, not power, lured her, and as a
healer, she was dedicated and gifted.
His head jerked up. If he’d spoken aloud, anyone
hearing would believe he liked Alicen Kent. He shuddered.
Bold, arrogant, headstrong, independent—offensive traits
in a female. Women should be reserved and modest. But
her touch could be so gentle...
Christ’s guts, am I mad? Did she discover he respected
her—somewhat—he’d forfeit his authority. Yet her
guileless dealings with his men captivated him. Plagued
him. Her laughter warmed in a way he’d rarely felt. And
her smile...His heart had thumped oddly at sight of that
infectious look, the first he’d seen from her since his
arrival.
Then she’d noticed him nearby and, as if a cloud had
passed over, her smile faded. Her sparkling eyes again
grew guarded.
He cursed the pain her withdrawal brought him, but
his authority could not be challenged. Yet he didn’t seek
to frighten her. He wanted—what? To have her laugh and
jest with him? Despite his disdain of them, women fought
to be in his favor. In his bed. Yet this woman plainly
loathed him. She could jest freely with common soldiers,
even with the duke himself, but with him she wore her
contempt like chain mail.
He wished to remove that barrier. As long as doing so
didn’t jeopardize his position, he reasoned mulishly. Still,
she should know he appreciated her effort on the duke’s
behalf, know he wasn’t the insensitive brute she believed
him.
Bah, he cared not for her good opinion! William owned
his fealty. What Alicen Kent thought of him was
unimportant. Bemused, Jeremy left the stable and his
unsettling nemesis and went to toast with his men a
victory won.
Alicen immediately felt the knight’s departure. Relief
consumed her. Could he not leave her be, not even to
tend chores? And could he not at least admit her plan
had worked? As usual, he completely unnerved her. Did
he suspect she’d visited Orrick after eluding Naismith?
She prayed the man wasn’t that wary.
Finished with her tasks, she steeled herself against
the captain’s rancor, determined never to let him see her
cry over his scorn. She dashed away fat tears with the
back of her hand. Only great pride kept her from outright
weeping.
That she cared a jot for a soldier’s regard troubled
her nearly as much as Captain Blaine’s mistrust. But
she found she could do nothing to still that upset.
***
“My wife’s missive sheds no light on London’s political
intrigues, Jeremy. I would know what my enemies at
Court have been about lately.”
William was sitting, propped up by several pillows,
for the first time in almost a fortnight. He studied a roll of
parchment.
“Warrick and I are in close communication. Our
agents at Court report little change.” Jeremy’s look
darkened. “The Duke of Bedford yet rapes and plunders
France. After three years, I’m amazed there’s aught of
value left.”
“An appalling abuse of a regency,” William agreed
soberly. “John never misses an occasion to fill his coffers.
And what of England’s own Regent, the Duke of
Gloucester?”
“Quarrelsome as usual. Humphrey takes after his
brother Bedford in that. Cardinal Beaufort yet opposes
him at every turn.”
“As Chancellor, Beaufort is wise to do so. Humphrey’s
whimsy will ruin England should none keep him at heel.
When Henry VI reaches his majority, he’ll have naught to
rule.”
“Only England and a little of Normandy,” Jeremy
remarked dryly. He set aside quill and ink and stood to
momentarily stretch.
William shook his head. “He’ll lose France, I fear.
Burgundy is our ally, but the Dauphin will fight for his
titled land. Our English Council and regents should then
find pillaging abroad less fruitful.” He waved away the
topic. “Enough of France. How fares what remains of my
duchy?”
Jeremy smiled slightly and resumed his seat on the
stool beside the small table. “Dare I say well? Your consort
runs Tynan efficiently. And Warrick rode post to
Northumberland to speak with Percy concerning Harold’s
campaign.”
William pondered this. “And Percy’s thoughts of my
brother the usurper?”
“Should Harold raid Northumberland, Percy would
be hard-pressed to halt him. The Douglas clan has of
late been active along Percy’s northern border, likely
honoring Scotland’s French alliance. Kenrick could
plunder virtually unchecked.”
“The Douglas may merely slake his passion for fighting
the earl,” came William’s bland reply. “He has warred
against the Percys since God rested on the seventh day.”
“That’s truth.” Jeremy’s jaw tensed. “Our plight
worsens with Kenrick’s troops afield. Harold will likely
gain more men, and Percy won’t aid us in winning our
lands back. He has other concerns.”
“With James Stuart confined in London, ’tis doubtful
the Scots will venture far south.” The duke rubbed his
temples with his fingertips, a weary sigh escaping him.
“We’ll have to rely on York against my brother.”
“Aye. And to that end, your wife has been most
helpful.” Jeremy produced a parchment scroll from inside
his tunic. “I’d meant to tell you of this earlier, but I was
distracted.”
Lifting his hand from his forehead, William looked at
Jeremy and grinned. “Has Alicen been about nearby?”
Jeremy ignored the intimation, slapping the
parchment into William’s hand. “Your lady wife’s arranged
an audience with York. He’s in Burgundy but returns
home in a month.”
“Guendolen is a marvel.” William beamed. “Marry for
love, my friend, not for profit.”
Jeremy looked away. Love wasn’t as simple as William
suggested. It stripped a man of pride, left him at a woman’s
mercy. She twisted his logic, clouded his reason until
naught but her love mattered. Then when she betrayed
him he died inside. Like a suit of armor hanging in a hall,
his outer shell protected naught but the vaporous humors
of a former soul.
He was well acquainted with those foul humors.
The duke studied his captain. “I’ll not apologize for
stirring painful memories, for mere words will not assuage
that pain,” William stated bluntly. “Therefore, I’ll speak
only of what presently concerns you. God blessed me
much with a man of your ilk, Jeremy, and I thank you for
your loyalty. You make my confinement near bearable.”
He smiled when Alicen entered with her tray of
medicaments. “You, and my lovely healer.”
> “You mentioned us in the same breath?” Alicen raised
a quizzical brow, then set the tray down beside William.
“You could not have spoken well of either of us, my lord.
I fear the good captain wishes me clapped in irons for
treason.” The look she sent Jeremy dared him to deny
her accusation.
Jeremy glowered, but William chuckled. “Forgive him,
Mistress. The fairer sex plagues him sorely, and he sulks
over his ill luck. I assure you he is a good man.”
Alicen’s brow quirked again as she glanced at Jeremy.
“Too cheerless for my tastes, my lord. He never appears
to enjoy himself.”
Jeremy’s jaw set, as if to hold back a stinging retort.
“Being my right hand is a weighty task,” William
countered smoothly, glancing between the antagonists.
“He regards duty very seriously.”
“Mayhap you could order him to smile upon occasion,”
Alicen returned, eyes glittering. “His countenance could
dull the sun.”
Jeremy clamped his jaw shut, determined to ignore
Alicen. But despite his best efforts to prevent it, the wench
tormented him mercilessly. Whenever she was near,
potent emotion gripped him—anger or suspicion
or...desire.
Nay, I’ll not desire the shrew. Never!
William laughed as hard as his weak lung allowed.
“She has it aright, lad. You have been gloomy of late.”
“I find little of cheer in this place, my lord,” Jeremy
retorted, “since I must discern if what appears true is not
merely illusion.” His hands fisted then relaxed. “Sir, is
there aught else you need of me? If not, I’ve business to
attend.”
William sighed, regret etching his features. “You do
naught but work. I’d prefer you—“ With a shake of his
head and a wave of his hand, he dismissed Jeremy. “Go
to your affairs. Alicen will care well for me in your
absence.”
Jeremy’s blue gaze turned icy. “No doubt she’s spent
much time convincing you she can do just that.” He
stalked out.
“He’s the best man ever to serve me, yet I worry for
him,” William stated quietly. Alicen continued to arrange
her ointments. “His wife’s betrayal shattered him. He’d
thought Estelle a loyal consort. A woman unlike the
faithless jades in his family.”
“Perhaps she could not abide a soldier’s duties,” Alicen
replied flatly, unbandaging and re-salving William’s
wound as she spoke.
“Mayhap. But her killing his unborn child and herself
broke Jeremy’s heart. Now, it seems his whole concern is
serving me.”
Stark horror clutched Alicen’s soul. What manner of
woman married then refused to bear her husband’s child?
She hid her shock with a casual reply. “His dedication
makes him valuable, my lord. With naught else to occupy
him, he does his best to please you.” And to plague me.
“Still, men need diversion. Jeremy’s like a tool—
useful, but devoid of spirit. A man in that state is ill at
heart.”
“I’ve long held the less emotion the better the soldier,”
Alicen said bitterly. “Feelings can obscure duty, and that
would be ruinous.” Like they ruined Orrick.
William pondered a moment. “Five years ago, Jeremy
forsook untold riches by leaving the Duke of Bedford’s
service. Rather than plunder the Loire Valley, he joined
me to make his living in a less barbarous manner.
“Neither of us sought a return to France, but my fealty
to the King required it. The slaughter was pitiless. We
longed to return to England and peace.” William’s voice
chilled. “My bastard brother had stolen much of my lands,
including that which I’d granted Jeremy.”
Silent, Alicen contemplated the duke’s words. The
vexing Captain Blaine was a scourge to women. Yet, based
on this account, he had cause. A scheming wife certainly
had ruined more than one strong soul. Mayhap Blaine’s
single-minded pursuit of duty kept his personal pain at
bay. But did he truly dislike much of what that duty
required?
His wife’s perfidy must have scarred him deeply to
turn him so against females. And William claimed he’d
foresworn great profit to keep his honor. But how could
he be merciful one moment, unyielding the next? And
how could he dislike soldiering yet be so skilled?
She needed time to reflect upon William’s words and
decided to ride to Sherford. After saddling Hercules, she
left Ned instructions on the duke’s care.
“I’ll see to everything until you return,” he vowed.
“You’ve no need to worry.”
“I’ll not fret. Expect me by eventide.” With a grin and
a quick ruffling of his blond hair, she was gone.
Her hopes for a peaceful ride died aborning when she
saw who awaited her at the gate astride his own horse.
She smiled sweetly to cover her resignation. “Out to
take the air, Captain?”
“If you keep a slow pace.”
“You’ve no pressing responsibilities to attend?
Something of more import than escorting me. Some village
to burn or peasant to flog?”
One brow rose. “My men favor you too much to watch
you closely. As I don’t share their sentiment, I’ll attend
you when you’re away from the duke.”
Alicen’s exaggerated smile turned brittle. “Ah, yes, I
might plot treason. Very well, Captain, I’m your captive.
Your pardon, however, if I’ll not sacrifice a good ride to
remain confined in my home.” She pulled Hercules
around and kept him ahead of Jeremy’s charger during
their wild dash to the village.
***
Jeremy brooded as they left Sherford an hour later at
a far more sedate pace than they’d entered. Having seen
Alicen’s back the entire way there pricked him. It
underscored the superb riding ability Naismith insisted
she possessed, and put Jeremy at a loss to understand
why that angered him. Were she a man, he’d congratulate
her for her skill.
The woman had occupied most all his waking
thoughts of late, which was dangerous to his men, himself,
and chiefly to William. Yet he couldn’t keep her from his
mind.
Nor could he refrain from needing her nearby. More
than once he thought to apologize for being such a thorn
in her heel, but the proper words eluded him. She
rendered him speechless.
For her part, Alicen found herself tired and irritable
when she’d hoped the excursion would improve her
spirits. She blamed Jeremy Blaine. Far more than at any
time prior, his nearness frayed her nerves. An
overwhelming desire to be alone arose.
“Have my actions assuaged your suspicions,
Captain?” she asked archly.
He visibly tensed, then glanced her way. “If you ask
whether you may roam freely alone, the answer is ‘nay.’
&nb
sp; With William in residence, you’ll not venture from
Landeyda unescorted.”
“You burn daylight following me.”
He fixed her with a hard stare. “Do I?”
“Yes,” she hissed, hoping she gave no hint of her lie.
“I’ve done naught to deserve distrust.” Naught you’ve seen
me doing.
“Your feelings are of no moment to me, Mistress. You’ll
not ride alone until we’re quit of you, so leave be.”
“You suspect me of treachery against my liege lord?”
Her question was more an indignant gasp.
He shrugged. “Your knowledge of his condition makes
you a potential traitor. Thus, I deal with you as I do.”
“How would I approach Harold’s people? I know of no
one in Sherford sympathetic to him.”
“Words easily spoken.”
“You’ve searched the town yourself. Have you found
citizens disloyal to William?”
Her question alarmed Jeremy. How much did she
know of his activities? He’d slowly brought men to the
area—in the guise of merchants, carpenters, hirelings.
They’d taken up residence, begun to trade....Now, his force
in town numbered just over a dozen, with a score extra
on outlying land. Could she know that? Had someone
discerned this plot and informed Harold’s loyalists?
“I’ve warned you not to concern yourself with military
matters,” he said harshly. “I’ll suspect you until such
time as William is safe.”
“You have no soul.”
He didn’t so much as flinch, though her ire pierced
deeply. “I have my duty. You have yours.”
“You kill and I heal,” she scoffed. “We’re at cross
purposes.”
His expression remained unchanged, but fury ignited
in his eyes. “You believe I enjoy killing?” he asked, voice
tight.
“Don’t you?” She knew that query’s falseness, but
was too stung by his animosity to retract it.
Jeremy ground his teeth a long moment, then said
simply, “Killing is a lamentable aspect of my profession.”
“You are capable of naught but soldiering?”
“I wished to serve William,” he retorted. “I kill when I
must, no matter how wretched that is.” The spark in his
eyes flamed higher, but his voice remained level. “’Tis
easy for you to judge me. You, the revered guardian of
this shire. Yet your duty has no more value than mine,
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