Part 6 (2/2)

”My lady Alisoun!”

Alisoun swung around, locating the source of the warm voice on the opposite side of the fireplace. ”Philippa, I'm back.” She walked to the bench tucked into a warm corner where a plump, smiling maid sat nursing a baby.

David stepped to the front of the fireplace and held out his hands as if to warm himself.

”You're not hurt?” the maid asked.

Alisoun shrugged off her cloak. ”I am as you see me-well and still single.” Leaning over, she embraced the woman. ”Although that's a tale for your ears.”

”Careful!” Philippa tugged Alisoun onto the bench beside her. ”You'll crush Hazel.”

Alisoun peeked at the baby, who, old enough to play games, peeked back. Then she pulled away from the nipple and gave a milky grin.

Straining, David stared. Not even Alisoun's impa.s.siveness was proof against a baby's smile.

”Sir David.” Taken by surprise, he found himself jerked around to face an irate Sir Walter. ”I want to speak to you.”

With a fast, efficient twist of the wrist, David freed himself. ”By all means.” He turned his back. ”Later.” After he'd seen this one thing, watched this one trial by baby.

Alisoun didn't smile back at the child. She looked vaguely bewildered, unsure for the first time since he'd met her. Tilting her head, she stared into Hazel's big eyes. ”What does she want?”

Philippa laughed, indulgent. ”She's a baby. She doesn't want anything.” Hoisting Hazel into a sitting position on her lap, she elbowed Alisoun. ”Smile back at her.”

”Sir David.” Sir Walter stepped between him and the women, and his voice trembled with rage.

Stupid, David thought, craning his neck to see over him. If they were to be enemies, Sir Walter would do well to disguise his anger with a little more-Look at her! His breath caught. Alisoun was smiling!

Pis.h.!.+ Hazel knew how to do it better than Alisoun. Alisoun's lips twitched; if she'd been the baby, he'd have wondered if she had colic.

Then, as if she feared detection, she glanced guiltily toward him. Lowering his gaze to Sir Walter, he tried to look as if they were having a discussion. ”We'll work together,” he said.

”You don't understand,” Sir Walter said. ”I don't work with anyone. I'm the chief knight and steward here.”

David nodded in conciliation and without conviction. ”Aye, aye, that's easy to see.” Cautiously, he glanced over Sir Walter's shoulder. Alisoun had turned back to Philippa. David edged closer. Sir Walter tried to hold his ground; he gave way when David pushed.

Philippa's hands moved over little Hazel knowingly, straightening her clothes, testing her for wetness. ”Wants to eat when she wants to eat, and is done when she's done,” she grumbled.

Sir Walter said, ”We must talk-away from the women.”

But Philippa wasn't really upset. David could see that, even from a distance. Everything about that woman shouted proud mother. Handing the baby and a rag to Alisoun, she said, ”Burp her. I need to put myself together before I meet him.” She jerked her head toward David, and David realized the maid had monitored his maneuvers ever since he'd entered the room. ”He's the one, isn't he?”

”What?” Alisoun fumbled with the baby, while Philippa watched. After much fidgeting, Alisoun managed to cover her shoulder with the rag and lift the baby. But she held her so stiffly and patted her so uncertainly, Hazel neither burped nor relaxed.

Exasperated by Alisoun's inefficiency, David stepped around Sir Walter. ”Here. Let me.” He rescued the baby from Alisoun's sweaty grip. Philippa grabbed, but he laid Hazel against his shoulder, patted her efficiently, and challenged the anxious mother with a lift of his chin.

Philippa observed him shrewdly, then relaxed a little. ”Aye, you've done this before. Best give him the rag, Alisoun, or she'll spit on him and he'll stink of sour milk.”

”It wouldn't be the first time.” But David held out his hand anyway, and Alisoun placed the rag in it without hesitation.

Still keeping a watchful eye on him, Philippa said, ”Lady Alisoun will have to learn sometime.”

Wrestling to put the rag under Hazel's chin, David answered, ”She'll learn with her own.”

”If she ever has her own, which I'm starting to doubt, she'll have enough maids that she'll never have to touch the child.”

”Hm. You probably speak the truth.” Amused and a little perplexed that Alisoun allowed her maid such freedom to speak her mind, David rubbed firmly up Hazel's spine until a moist belch sounded in his ear. Turning to face the satisfied little face so close to his own, he said, ”Perhaps you'd best go back to Lady Alisoun.”

A rumble sounded on the baby's other end, and Alisoun rose from her seat. ”Oh, nay. You'll not give her to me now. I have a bath to prepare.”

Apparently Sir Walter had given up on David, for he appealed to Alisoun. ”We must speak together.”

”Of a certainty.” Alisoun nodded graciously to him, then called, ”Edlyn!”

Her ward came rus.h.i.+ng up, her cheeks flushed with pleasure at being called. ”My lady?”

”Prepare our guest's bath in the blue bedchamber. We'll need the biggest tub for him.” She glanced at David and moved a little away, but he heard her anyway. ”Bring the scissors, I'll cut his hair.”

He fingered the strands that hung around his shoulders.

She continued, ”And I think marjoram and oil of eucalyptus might abate the worst of his stench.”

Surprised, he asked Philippa, ”Do I smell?”

He thought for a moment she was going to laugh. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, her lips twitched, and even though she would be laughing at him, he looked forward to hearing her. This motherly creature would surely release a big belly laugh, one of those great booms of merriment that invited guffaws in return.

Instead, she controlled herself, quivering with the effort. ”My lady has a sensitive nose, and you smell very much like a...man.”

That hadn't been her first choice of a description, he was sure. Had Alisoun quashed this woman's natural humor? He glanced at Alisoun as she gave instructions to Edlyn. If nothing else, during his stay he'd get Alisoun to laugh aloud and free her servants from this senseless bondage.

With a caution he thought reserved for wild boars, Philippa removed the baby from his grasp. ”I'll change her wrapping clothes.” But she still looked him over. ”You are Sir David of Radcliffe, aren't you?”

He stood still and tried to appear unthreatening. ”Aye.”

”The legendary mercenary?”

Some people, on hearing his name and knowing his reputation, thought he must be constantly savage and brutal. Apparently this woman was one of them. Gently, he said, ”I am a mercenary, but the legend is perhaps exaggerated.”

”It had better not be,” she snapped, then paled and stepped back. She looked as if she wanted to run and her breath came in little gasps. The baby, sensing her mother's agitation, squirmed and squalled, and Philippa patted her rhythmically, her instinct to comfort smothered by wariness. ”We need you to be everything the legend claims. We need you to protect my lady Alisoun. If anything should happen to her-”

”Philippa!” Alisoun's voice sliced across her maid's warning. ”Go change the baby, then get back to your duties.”

Swinging around, Philippa stared at Alisoun with open mouth. Then she said, ”Aye, my lady.” Hampered by the baby, she bobbed an awkward curtsy. ”I was just-”

”I don't care.” Alisoun pointed her finger in Philippa's face. ”Keep...your...place. You have no business speaking to Sir David, especially not in such a familiar way.”

Alisoun didn't sound angry, but Philippa paled. Tears rushed to her eyes, and she caught Alisoun's outstretched hand. ”I know. I'm just stupid, but I fear for you. I should-”

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