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‘Just Hal if you please. I’m no sir.’
‘Hal and I share the same father but we have different mothers,’ Sir Roger explained.
Half-brothers. That made sense. They were too close in age to make any other explanation possible.
‘What Roger means is I’m a bastard,’ Henry added with a humourless smile. He lifted his jaw and crossed his arms, as though daring Joanna to confront him. ‘Though my father did me the kindness of acknowledging me as his. Many would not.’
Taken aback at the harshness of his voice, Joanna stared at him. When they had met before he had seemed good-humoured, for all his mocking words, but his sudden fierceness was unnerving. His brow was knotted and his eyes dark. For a moment silence hung awkwardly between them as all three stood motionless saying nothing.
Side by side the brothers were not so alike after all. They were of equal height and stature and both had hair the colour of a crow’s wing but Sir Roger’s was swept back and tied neatly at his nape. He wore a short, neatly trimmed beard while his brother’s hair fell forward in careless tangles to a jaw rough with stubble.
The resemblance was strongest about the eyes: deep brown, flecked with green and ringed with long lashes set into faces tanned from a life spent outside, but the expressions in them were markedly different. Sir Roger gazed on Joanna with fondness but Henry appraised her with a dark humour, seemingly enjoying her discomposure.
‘I have to go. I am expected home,’ Joanna mumbled, reaching for her bag. She smiled at Sir Roger, hoping he would offer to escort her through the camp but he merely smiled stiffly and bade her farewell. Hiding her disappointment, Joanna held her hand out for him to kiss, nodded towards Henry and fled from the tent. She reached the gateway in a rush but stopped as she neared the guards.
One of them smirked at her, his eyes roving up and down her body.
‘Finished your delivery quickly, didn’t you? Is your load lighter now?’
‘I’ll bet someone’s is,’ the other sniggered, nudging his companion in the ribs.
Joanna’s eyes prickled with shame. She took a deep breath, determined to walk past with dignity.
‘If you don’t keep your mouths civil in the presence of women I’ll have a word in the right ear and you’ll be guarding the middens until the tournament ends!’
Joanna spun round to find Henry Danby striding towards her.
‘Mistress Sollers, allow me to escort you back to the city.’ He held out an arm for her. Surprised, she took it and let him lead her through the gateway.
‘If you are as virtuous as you claim to be you shouldn’t visit the camp again,’ he muttered as they passed by the guards. ‘Those oafs won’t be the only ones casting slights on you.’
‘What do you mean claim?’ Joanna pulled her arm free and rounded on him angrily. ‘My reputation is no concern of yours and I have done nothing to incite gossip.’ She flushed slightly as she thought of the kisses she had permitted Sir Roger to take that were far from fitting for an unmarried woman. ‘Sir Roger and I were doing nothing wrong,’ she said indignantly. She stopped short. If she had spoken in such a tone to Sir Roger he would have been angry or turned cold but Master Danby simply laughed.
‘What you and my brother do in private is none of my business, but I wasn’t referring to that. He leaned closer and murmured in her ear. ‘When we meet next you can buy me some wine.’
‘Why?’ Joanna asked in confusion.
‘Because I was right in guessing who you were searching for when you whispered so temptingly in my ear.’
Joanna snorted angrily. ‘Goodbye, Master Danby. I can make my own way back,’ she said. She turned and walked away, his soft laughter ringing in her ears.
Copyright © 2016 by Claire Lackford
ISBN-13: 9781488004100
More Than a Lover
Copyright © 2016 by Michèle Ann Young
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