Alyna laid her hand on Emma’s arm. “You did what you thought was right, Emma. Don’t blame yourself.”
Emma smiled, a wry little motion that twisted her mouth and wrinkled the tip of her broad nose. She took a deep breath and continued with her tale.
“We didn’t know who mounted the siege but one day we saw you throwing rocks at the keep and realized that someone had come to your aid. Philippa was beside herself. They planned their escape but I hid. I knew that staying here would be much preferable to a life spent in hiding, always seeking a place to live, always living in fear of discovery. I knew too,” here Emma looked Alyna squarely in the eyes, “that you wouldn’t judge me harshly but would welcome me.”
“Oh Emma.” Alyna squeezed her friend’s hand. “Of course you’re welcome, this is your home too. I would be lost without your help and there is much to do to set things to rights.”
“Thank you, Maid Alyna.” Tears filled Emma’s bright blue eyes. “Thank you.”
“There is naught to thank, you and I are going to be very, very busy.”
“Beware of her,” Emma warned. “Philippa hates you overmuch and wishes nothing more than vengeance.” She reached over and stirred the contents of the pot anew.
“Don’t worry, Emma. Philippa is vanquished,” Alyna assured. “Vanquished by my husband, Warin de Taillur.”
“You’re married?” Amazement etched Emma’s features. “How is that, what passed, how did you meet?”
“After Philippa denied us entry, we traveled to London to petition the king. Upon hearing our words, King Henry bade us marry before he would lend support to recover the keep. And oh,” she added, “we met in France under improper circumstances. Perhaps one day we will talk of it but not now.”
“Of course, Maid – er, Lady Alyna.” Emma curtsied.
“One table is set to rights,” Bennet’s voice interrupted them. “Lord de Taillur bids us eat before we continue.”
Alyna turned and smiled at him. “Bennet, this is Emma, long of Caperun Keep. And Emma, Bennet Lambert of Norfolk.”
“My pleasure, Maid Emma.” Bennet bowed and Emma giggled nervously, uneasy over being given such respect.
“At once, Bennet. Emma, serve.” Alyna made her voice intentionally brisk to ease Emma’s embarrassment.
Emma spooned the lamb onto the trenchers. Bennet grabbed two and disappeared. By the time he came back, all the trenchers had been filled so each of them carried what they could, making several trips before all was laid out in the hall.
“I bid you all welcome to Caperun Keep!” Warin’s voice rang out as he held aloft his goblet. “There is much to do and any who choose to stay with me will be richly rewarded.” He caught Alyna’s eye and motioned her to sit in the empty place beside him.
Cheers rang out and Alyna made her way to his side through a forest of arms holding up goblets.
Proudly she seated herself beside her lord husband. She reached her own goblet up and joy swelled her breast at the sight of the men at arms seated below, every one joined in the salute. Hilarity and camaraderie filled the room to the rafters and she cherished the moment.
However, the night grew long and soon Alyna’s head began to droop.
“Above with you,” Warin leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Your eyes show your fatigue.”
“Aye, my lord, ‘tis true. I’m weary.”
“Then go.” He gave her a little nudge.
She looked at him. Gratitude at his solicitous gesture overwhelmed her and, much to her dismay, tears began to well afresh. Turning away, she dabbed at them hastily.
Turning back, she noted his face, flushed with heat, and the jaw held tight against his own exhaustion. He needed rest as much as she but now wasn’t the time to voice her concerns.
“I thank you. All will be in readiness for you.”
She stood and after bidding them all good night, climbed the stairs to the solar. As she set that chamber to rights, huzzahs and jests rang though the great hall below. A gentle smile curved her lips at the cheery sound.
How nice to be home.
The last item she put away was the peacock blue tunic. She held the soft fabric against her cheek for an instant before folding it carefully and laying it in the trunk, on top so she could see it whenever she opened the lid. The twelve nights of Christmas would be the perfect occasion to wear it and she could hardly wait to do so. Warin would want to see her in it, she was sure of it.
“Lady Alyna, will you be wanting aid?” Emma’s voice interrupted her pleasant contemplation. “Lord Warin bade me come.”
“What? Oh nay, Emma. I am finished. Tonight is a night for celebration and an extra pair of hands below would be welcome.”
“But what of you?”
“I’m weary and would cherish an evening of rest. Nay, wait,” she said as Emma turned away. “Now that I think on it, I would love a basin of warm water.”
“Very well.” Emma curtsied and slipped away, soon to return with the basin that she placed on the hearth.
“Thank you, Emma, you may go now.”
“Aye, my lady.”
Amused, Alyna watched the young woman almost break into a run in her haste to return below. It was well known in the keep that Emma was not of a solitary nature and liked to be part of a crowd, especially one as jocular as this one tonight.
Alyna, however, relished the solitude, because her plans for this evening had changed. She wasn’t going straight abed.
She was going to seduce her husband.
He hadn’t touched her since the siege and desire for him welled hot within her, banishing the recent weariness. She would ready herself and then call to him for help on the pretext of moving something heavy.
She shouldn’t be too long about it either, for she well knew the pitfall of too much ale and wine. It could lead a man to a deep sleep, the last thing she wanted for Warin right now.
Grabbing a clean kirtle from the trunk, she moved over to the hearth and stoked the fire. She stripped down to her chemise and washed, shivering the entire while, for the fire hadn’t as yet banished the chill from the air. She donned the garment and stood back to admire her efforts to tidy the room.
The fire cast a pleasing light, gilding all within. The bed was inviting, piled high with blankets and furs. A few of Warin’s garments hung on pegs beside the door and she crossed over to them to rearrange the folds so they hung just so.
The growing iciness in her feet reminded her that time passed. She ran down the first few steps and waited for a lull in the hubbub before calling out.
“Warin?”
“Aye, Alyna?” Warin’s voice drifted upstairs.
“If you please, my lord, there is a task I would beg of you.”
After a moment’s silence, the hall broke out in raucous laughter. Alyna’s face flamed at the salacious comments and for a moment doubt assailed her. It hadn’t occurred to her the men would think there was aught amiss at her request.
“Aye?”
If her request annoyed him, it could not be heard in Warin’s voice.
“If you please, my lord Warin, help me move the trunk.”
“Could it not wait until the morning, my dove?” This elicited another wave of gibes and laughter that echoed up the stairs.
My dove? Alyna’s heart melted at the endearment.
“Nay, it vexes me sorely.” She stood first on one foot then the other as they grew colder and colder. “Please, my lord, could you hurry?”
A chorus of falsetto voices mimicked her.
“Nay, my lord.”
“Nay my lord, it vexes me.”
“My lord, please hurry!”
Now, not only were her feet stone cold but embarrassment enveloped her for she realized how inappropriate her behavior. The comments were made in good sport but that did nothing to lessen her discomfort. It would have been better to summon Emma and send her down with a discreet message. Really, she must learn to curb her impetuous tendencies.
; She turned around and crept back to the solar, pulling the door shut behind her. Leaving it unlatched, she crawled into bed but the door hung unevenly and so swung open again. She could still hear all that happened below.
A sudden roar silenced those in the hall, punctuated by the thump of Warin’s fist on the table.
“Who dares mock my lady?”
The hall became silent yet Alyna sensed it was but a lull. The celebration was far from over.
“I said, who dares mock my lady?”
“We mean no offense, Lord Warin. We joined in the game of matrimony that you now play.” Gerard’s voice, properly contrite, carried an undercurrent of mirth.
“Aye, my lord.”
“Aye, we beg pardon, my lord.”
“The Lady Alyna is not to be mocked,” Warin warned. “It’s true I need men but I will accept none who do not pledge to the alliance of Caperun and de Taillur.”
“A toast to the Lady Alyna!” Gerard said, ever the peacekeeper. “All rise to toast our lady and lord!”
The sound of chairs scraping back rattled up the stairs followed by a new chorus of cheers.
Alyna imagined the goblets being refilled and the heads tilting back to quaff the foamy contents. But that image wasn’t enough to stifle the embarrassment still racking her.
How could she face them all tomorrow? Worse, how could she face Warin when he came up to bed? She had shamed him by her plea. Mortified, she burrowed her face into the pillows and pulled the coverings over her head.
The minutes drifted by and Warin did not come. She turned over and stared into the dying flames of the fire. The noise from the hall became louder and more raucous, punctuated by Emma’s giggles. The minutes slipped into an hour. Mayhap two.
Still Warin did not come. The merriment began to abate but not until silence reigned below did his footsteps sound on the stairs, stumbling and uneven.
“Alyna!” He pushed the door with such force that the hinges creaked in protest.
Feigning sleep, she closed her eyes. She could hear a clink as he apparently put down a goblet, then a muffled curse as he fumbled with the wooden bar that served as the latch, followed by the scrape as it fell properly into place.
“Alyna!” He bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Even a babe would not sleep through that. Alyna opened her eyes and sat up.
“Aye my lord?” She rubbed her eyes as if she had just been woken from sleep and not lying awake the entire evening.
“Alyna, my dove.” Warin swept her a bow. Losing his balance, he sidestepped several times before coming to a stop in front of the fireplace. He tried again, this time with more success although to Alyna it was a caricature of the elegant swoop she knew him capable of.
“Aye, my lord?”
“You have, no, we have,” he corrected himself, swaying slightly from side to side, “a fine keep.” He looked about and upon spying the goblet on the floor beside the door, made a lunge for it.
“Aye, we do.” She watched as he managed to pick it up without spilling too much. Tilting his head back, he drained the contents, more or less, for some dribbled down his chin, before tossing the goblet towards the fire. It landed with a solid clank and rolled to a stop. He made a move as if to pick it up which caused him to lose his balance again and he made a few quick steps towards the fire.
Alyna giggled. At the sound, Warin turned his gaze on her.
“You laugh, wench?” Only he slurred the words and it came out more like “Zhou laugh, wenshshsh?” which made Alyna giggle again.
He struck a dramatic pose and clasped his hands to his heart. “Zhou wound me greatly.” He gazed soulfully towards the ceiling as if looking for divine pity. “Zhe laughsh at me, do zhou hear?”
Alyna broke out in peals of laughter at the ridiculous sight. Relief coursed through her veins. All evening she had worried about his arrival, about what he would say to her over her behavior earlier. Her worry and shame had been for naught.
He was well and truly in his cups and although she should be angry with him, she couldn’t be. Mayhap an unpleasant scene would occur tomorrow but now she had ammunition to fling back at him. And, no doubt, a clearer head to deal with the conversation.
She patted the bed beside her.
“Come to bed.”
He lowered his soulful gaze to her.
“Ahhh, the anzhel Alyna hash landed in thish world. Look, zhe invitesh me to shsh-share her bower.”
“Come, my lord, it is warm.”
“Aye, but tish warm here too.” He pointed to the fire behind him and patted his buttocks.
“As well it may be, but it will not be easy for you to sleep standing.”
He thought on that, nodding the whole while.
“Well then,” he declared, “ther’sh but one thing to do. I musht join my beautiful anzhel.” He lurched toward the bed, launching himself at the last second to land sprawled face down across it.
“Your boots, my lord, will dirty the bed.” Alyna gestured towards them. In his inebriated state, she wasn’t certain he would know his boots were on his feet.
“Ahhh.” He sighed heavily and raised himself onto his elbows. “My dove, zhou are right.” He bent his knees and flopped his feet back and forth. “Could you lend ash-shissht-shisht—”
“Assistance?” she supplied helpfully, fully enjoying her superiority over him at this moment.
“Aye,” he nodded. “Ash-shisshit-anshs.”
“Of course, my lord.” She threw back the bedclothes and crawled towards his feet. She tugged one boot off and threw it to the floor. The next one proved a challenge and she tugged for several minutes before sitting back on her heels in disgust.
“It would seem I need your aid. I cannot take this one off.”
He didn’t answer.
“My lord?” She turned around to find Warin fast asleep. A soft snore tickled her ears and lifted the stray hairs straggling across his cheeks.
“You must take care not to drink ale or wine to excess.” She cautioned him, knowing full well he couldn’t hear her. “When one is fatigued, it is not wise.”
The warning warmed her, for it made her feel like a true wife. Too, he had called her “my dove” and “my beautiful angel”. Did that mean he began to feel affection towards her? Dare she hope? Or was he well practiced in the art of flattery and meant naught of what he had said to her? Ale and wine could loosen lips so his words may not have been sincere.
She sighed. Time would tell.
She tugged one last time on his boot and this time it slid off. She tossed it to the floor beside the other one. Leaving him where he lay, she crawled back under the bedclothes. He would move soon enough when he got cold.
Chapter Seventeen
“Ooohh.”
A moan reached Alyna’s ears the next morning as she sat braiding her hair. Warin had still been asleep when she awoke so she had risen and begun her daily toilette. She swiveled about on her stool to see.
He lay on his back, cradling his head in his hands, eyes closed against the light.
“Aye, the taste that lingers in my mouth is foul indeed,” he muttered, smacking his lips. “What had seemed like a fine idea last night is not so fine this morning.” He cracked open one eye and quickly closed it.
“Oohh.” He moaned again.
“Wait.” Alyna finished with the braid and tied it with a bit of ribbon. She stood and went over to the small chest of herbs against the wall under the window slit. She pulled forth a sprig of mint and some willow bark. Deliberately, she let the lid fall. It landed with a loud ‘thunk’ that caused Warin to grimace and clasp his head anew.
She smothered the grin on her face before going over to him.
“Here.” She handed him the mint. “Chew on this, it will freshen your mouth and settle your stomach.”
He took it from her, eyeing it suspiciously before popping it in his mouth.
“And this.” She held out the willow bark. “When the mint has lost its flavor
, chewing on this will lessen the pain.”
“It’s sharp,” Warin grumbled. “I care for it naught.”
“Then spit it out,” Alyna shrugged, “and try the willow.”
He wadded the soggy mint into a ball and tossed it towards the fire. With a dour look in her direction, he placed the bark in his mouth and grimaced.
This time she was not thwarted.
“You must chew for a time or it won’t be effective.”
“I vow the infidel hordes had no finer torture than this.” He chewed with great exaggeration, glancing at her from time to time.
“By all that is holy, my lord, it’s not poison!”
“What do you know of poison?” The words were light but he glanced at her, undeniable misgiving etched on his face. He stopped chewing.
“There are many different kinds. Rest assured none shall find their way past your lips. At least not by these hands,” she added hastily.
Her careless choice of words appalled her. They had been said in jest, much as a wife would tease her husband.
Apparently Warin had not taken them as such, indeed had seen them as a warning. With sinking heart, she watched as he took the half-chewed mass out of his mouth and tossed it too towards the fire.
“I thank you for your concern,” he said coolly. “But experience has taught me that no matter the cause, physical exertion and invigorating air provide the best solution for clearing one’s head.”
“I pray you excuse my thoughtless words,” she blurted. “They were said in jest.”
“Cease your prattling, lady wife. It’s not your place to guard my actions.”
The damage had been done. The brief camaraderie they had shared had disappeared.
Warin got out of bed and with nary a further glance at her, dressed and left their chamber. By the time she ran down the stairs and into the great hall, he had already left.
Outside, she heard him shout for Citadel. Scant moments later pounding hoofs thudded as he left the bailey.
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