Part 7 (1/2)

”The only thing you should do is tend to your duties here.” Alisoun pushed at Philippa. ”Go now.”

Philippa rushed away, looking like an abused puppy, and David found himself disliking Alisoun again. Philippa seemed to be all woman, mother to her child first and to the world after, and something had crushed her spirit. He narrowed his gaze on Alisoun. Aye, he wanted to teach Alisoun many lessons.

In a voice as bitter as gall, Sir Walter said, ”Philippa proves there's good reason to beat a woman.”

Instinctively protesting, David began, ”Jes, man, that's harsh.”

Then Alisoun caught his attention. Her face and figure remained absolutely still. She might have been encased in ice. Slowly, her head swung toward Sir Walter like a door on a rusty hinge, and something about her made Sir Walter step back. In a voice of command, she said, ”Do not ever let me hear you say such a thing again.”

”If you would just listen to me-”

”I do not choose to follow your advice.” Sir Walter tried to speak, but Alisoun lifted her hand. ”I do not wish to hear it again.”

A pox on all this secrecy! David felt the undercurrents tugging at him. Had Sir Walter beat Philippa? Had he beat his wife? Did he have a wife?

David's gaze narrowed on the disturbed knight. Was Sir Walter the reason Alisoun had not married? Did he occupy her bed, and had they had a lovers' quarrel? David had told her he wouldn't interfere between man and wife, but if she'd taken Sir Walter to her bed, he'd interfere. He'd abandon his half-made plans to court her and abduct her instead. Sir Walter would have no chance against David.

”Did you hear me, Sir Walter?”

Her chilly voice broke David's musings, and he dismissed the daydreams. He believed only what he saw and heard and touched.

”I beg your pardon, my lady.” Sir Walter bowed, giving every indication of sincere contrition.

But was he sincerely contrite about saying such an asinine thing, or contrite about infuriating his liege? And why had he advocated such despotism when his liege was a woman, and likely to consider it a challenge?

”If you again subject me to such an outburst, you will have no choice. You will be seeking another lord to serve-one more to your liking.”

Could she speak to her lover like that? Surely not. Not even Lady Alisoun could sound so disdainful to a man who'd rumpled her mattress.

David looked from the stocky, red-faced, fervently protesting Sir Walter to tall, aloof Lady Alisoun. Nay, Sir Walter hadn't rumpled her mattress.

But she did have emotions, he now knew it. Her face didn't show them, her posture remained the same, but behind her gray eyes existed a soul. And he would understand her, if he had to connive, spy, and enlist the a.s.sistance of all her people, and even the very heart of the cold and lonely maiden of George's Cross.

6.

Under Alisoun's guidance, Sir David stumbled into his chamber. Alisoun quailed at the thought of putting her safety and the security of George's Cross in this man's hands. In this man's filthy hands.

He'll look better when he's had a bath, she argued back at herself, and snapped her fingers at the maids. They sprang into action, stripping him of his clothing and tossing it in a basket to be boiled.

”Maybe the poor will take this,” one maid said, holding the soiled rags David called his hose between two fingers.

”The poor won't want any of it,” Edlyn retorted.

Edlyn's voice roused Alisoun. ”Go on, dear,” she said. ”I don't think it proper for a maiden who is yet unmarried to bathe the guests.”

”Will you be bathing him?” Sir Walter demanded from the doorway.

Surprised, all the women turned to look at him, then at Alisoun.

”As I always do,” she answered.

He placed his fists on his hips. ”Are you not a maiden?”

So angry she could barely speak, she said, ”I am a widow.” By good Saint Ethelred, the man had lost his mind. When had he come to believe he had the right to question her activities? When had he lost so much respect for her that he believed he could insult her without consequence?

Oh, she knew the answer.

When she had confessed she'd risked everything to do what she thought was right. He didn't comprehend that she cared nothing about his disapproval or his opinion. She paid his wages; what she expected from him was his unconditional loyalty. He hadn't given it, yet still she recalled his earlier support and found herself unable to order he find another post.

Mechanically, she reviewed the arrangements for their guest. She spoke to Edlyn about the special evening meal, then sent her on her way. A fire burned in the fireplace. She pressed on the mattress. The bedding smelled clean and dry. Lifting the pitchers which sat on a table beside the bed, she found them empty and frowned. In their excitement over serving the legendary mercenary, the maids had failed to finish preparing the chamber.

At the tub, one of them squealed, and Alisoun glanced impatiently toward the little group around David. So frivolous! Did they think, just because he was a legend, he would be the answer to a maiden's prayer? She glanced at the furious Sir Walter. Is that what he thought, too? Is that why he stood off to the side, watching, bristled up like a mastiff?

The group parted briefly, and Alisoun caught a glimpse of David, naked and dripping. He was certainly not a maiden's dream. A cook's dream, because he was so skinny. Or a washerwoman's dream. She'd never seen a man so caked with dirt. It would take hard scrubbing to remove all the grime, but regardless of Sir Walter's opinion, she knew her duty and always did it. Rolling up her sleeves, she picked up the ap.r.o.n the maids had laid out to cover her. If she could have, she would have left him to the maids, but she dared not retreat now or Sir Walter would consider it a victory.

Her level voice cut the chatter. ”Where is the wine and water, should our guest have a thirst in the night?”

Heath clapped her hand over her mouth.

She'd been Alisoun's personal maid before; she had been promoted to chief maid when Philippa had come, and when distracted, she occasionally failed in her duties. ”Are there other ch.o.r.es left undone?” Alisoun asked.

The group around David melted away. Heath ran from one place to another, a.s.sessing each maid's performance. They all remained within the chamber, hoping, Alisoun supposed, to sneak glances at the legend in their midst. She didn't care about that. She feared only that their hospitality might be lacking, not that it would be done too well.

At her approach, David sank into the water as if it might melt him. From the look of him, he hadn't the experience to know otherwise.

Soaping the was.h.i.+ng cloth, Alisoun tried to ease David's uneasiness with polite chatter. ”Is the chamber to your liking?”

He leaned forward and let her rub his shoulders. ”It's lovely,” he said politely. ”Is it yours?”

Briefly, she considered digging her fingernails into his skin. She had hoped he wouldn't behave like an a.s.s and make offensive comments that insinuated she would warm his bed. So many knights and lords did when she bathed them, a.s.suming that she must hunger for what she did not know and smugly sure they could satisfy that hunger. For them, a few cool words worked much like icicles dropped into the bath water, and she never had the problem again-at least from the same man.

Today she didn't feel so tactful. She, too, was exhausted from travel and this duty seemed onerous beyond belief. Running the washcloth up over David's head, she let strong lye soap drip into his eyes. Jumping to his feet, he yelled, and tried to rub it out. Heath ran forward with a basin of clean water and helped him splash water into his face. When he turned on Alisoun, red-eyed and snarling, she thought to apologize sweetly. Instead she found herself saying, ”You'll sleep in here alone, Sir David, unless you choose another partner. I'm sure one of the maids could be persuaded to join you, out of curiosity if nothing else. Now, if you'll sit again, we'll finish with-”

He grabbed her hand in a firm grip, and she wondered if he would soak her. Her training told her she deserved it for allowing her temper to get the better of her, but Sir Walter's growl angered her even more. She didn't need protecting from David; she could handle him.

”This is my chamber?” David demanded.

She stood absolutely still. ”I have said so.”

”I sleep here...alone?”

”Aye.”

Her soapy hand slipped from his grasp, and he made no move to recapture it. ”You have chambers for everyone?”

”For my guests.” She began to realize the reason for David's amazement. ”It wouldn't be appropriate for you to sleep on the floor of the great hall with the servants. Sir Walter has a private chamber in the gatehouse where he can be at the ready in case of attack, but I thought that you should be within the keep.”