Anne Herries - Medieval Brides

‘Will you report her to the garrison commander?’

Adam stepped out into the street and stood, hands on hips, staring towards Westgate, but in truth he saw nothing. ‘Hell’s teeth,’ he repeated. ‘One minute I’d swear she was the sweetest girl in Christendom, and the next I wonder if I’ve contracted to marry a viper.’

Tihell was eyeing the shuttered window and the closed door of the workshop. He leaned a broad shoulder testingly on the wood. ‘You want to see inside, sir?’

Adam held up a hand. ‘No—no need for that as yet. It would give the game away.’

‘Sir?’

‘You and I know that the Fulford ladies have been here, but I don’t want our knowledge proclaimed from the rooftops.’

‘Sir?’

Lowering his voice, tamping down the irrational anger that was burning inside him, Adam leaned closer. ‘We play a waiting game, Tihell. Watch, pretend to know less than nothing, and we may draw them out. Don’t mention Lady Cecily’s visit here to the men, will you?’

‘No, sir.’

Clenching his teeth against the pitying look his captain sent him, Adam started off up the street.

Tihell kept pace alongside. ‘On the other hand, sir,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘it may not be as bad as it looks.’

‘Rebels are known to be in the area,’ Adam said curtly.

‘Yes, sir, I know. But Lady Cecily is not necessarily—’

Adam checked. ‘You seek to advise me? Out of your great wisdom?’

‘No, of course not. It’s just that I…Will you report her to the commander?’

‘Since we didn’t understand above a word of what was said, we’ve no proof of what she’s up to either way. Anyway, what’s it to you if I do report her?’

His captain shrugged. ‘Nothing. But she does have a way with her.’

‘Oh?’

‘No need to look daggers at me, sir, but she does have a way with her, and you can’t deny it. I’ve seen you watch her. And young Herfu told me that last night you and she—’

‘Tihell, you’re on thin ice. An old friendship can only be tested so far.’

‘Yes, sir.’

They continued in silence for a pace or two.

‘Sir?’

Adam sighed. ‘Captain?’

‘Herfu likes her. And Maurice. Already.’

‘And I. That’s the hell of it,’ Adam said softly.

‘She seems kind—genuinely kind,’ Tihell went on, as they reached Westgate and started down the hill behind a man rolling a barrel towards the market. ‘No foolish airs and graces. Will you hand her over to the commander?’

Adam made a dismissive movement. ‘Damn it, man, can’t you sing another tune?’

His captain flushed. ‘My apologies, sir.’

‘Listen, Tihell—listen carefully. Rather than see Lady Cecily put in some dank cell when we’ve no solid proof of her disloyalty, I intend to take her back to Fulford. I can keep better watch over her there—if she is in contact with the Saxon resistance, she will act as bait.’

‘You intend to use her?’

‘I do indeed. Lady Cecily will draw them out. If I handed her over to the garrison commander Duke William’s cause would not be advanced one whit. Watch her and we may uncover an entire nest of vipers—’

‘But, sir, there is another possibility…’

‘Something warns me that you’re about to tell me what that might be.’

Tihell gave him an earnest nod. ‘There might be a perfectly innocent reason for Lady Cecily’s visit to Golde Street.’

Adam stared. ‘It seems that Herfu and Maurice are not her only conquests. You also seek to be her champion.’

Tihell kicked a chicken bone into the gutter and would not meet his eyes. ‘Don’t rush to judgement, sir, that’s all,’ he muttered. ‘If she is disloyal, time will tell.’

‘We’re all fools,’ Adam said slowly.

‘Sir?’

‘Have done, man, have done. I’ve a mind of my own and have already decided on Lady Cecily’s fate.’

‘Aye, sir.’

Adam smiled. ‘Perhaps another commission will put a stop to your philosophizing?’

‘Sir?’

‘When the troop leaves for Fulford I want you to stay behind. Wait for your man to send word, and then get on Lady Emma’s trail yourself.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And be wary, Tihell. I don’t want to lose you.’

‘Sir.’

‘Then, regardless of what you discover, we shall rendezvous in three days’ time, at the garrison. Noon. You can give me your report then.’

‘Yes, sir.’

He caught up with the little novice before he had worked out what he was going to say to her. There was a flash of blue ahead of him—his cloak—moving swiftly along the path through the cemetery. At least she is not running off, like her sister, he thought, and some of the tension he had been carrying fell away. He did not want to lose her.

Hell, that was not right. He did not want to lose the chance of using her. Give her some rope and she would help flush out resistance to Duke William’s rule. Yes, that was it: he was planning to use her…

Adam shook his head at the chaos an innocent-looking face was bringing to his normally orderly mind, and began closing the distance between them. That hideous veil was lost beneath the hood of his cloak. A strategist by nature, Adam fought to compose his thoughts. He misliked entering a field of battle in disarray.

Was that was this was? A battle? Damn it, a couple of hours ago he had woken with the girl in his arms, soft and pliant from sleep. Her morning kisses had tasted of welcome; they had seemed to hint that they might deal well together, had seemed to promise affection, if not love itself, given time. Hah! The little novice might well have been moved by love this morning, when she had visited the goldsmith’s house, but it was not love for him. No. He must strive to remember that.

But, with his eyes fixed on that diminutive cloaked figure, his thoughts refused to get back into line. The touch of her…the smell of her…somehow she had driven out his longing for Gwenn. Temporarily, of course, but it had been a first to awaken and not ache for Gwenn. That should have alerted him. The little novice was not as harmless as she appeared. He was treading on treacherous ground.

His lips curved into a self-deprecating smile. Wonderful. He had no clear strategy; he did not have the lie of the land; he was about to engage with the enemy. Bloody wonderful.

Cursing himself for the worst kind of fool, Adam stared at that slender back and narrowed the distance between them. If only he could read minds. She was hoping, no doubt, that her visit to Golde Street had gone unobserved. Gritting his teeth, ignoring a bitter taste in his mouth, he waved his captain on with a muttered, ‘Look to the horses, man, and get the troop in order. We’re leaving for Fulford in half an hour.’

‘Yes, sir.’

He strode up to the little novice and caught her by the shoulder. ‘Lady Cecily?’

‘Sir Adam!’ She practically leapt out of her skin. ‘I…I was just wondering where you were.’

I’ll bet you were, Adam thought, missing neither the nervous smile nor the guilty flush. For his part, he was wondering what lies she would feed him. ‘Where have you been?’

‘I…I…thought I would take a look round the town. It’s been so long since I was last here.’

Taking her hand, placing it carefully on his arm, he urged her towards the garrison. ‘Where is Maurice? He should have escorted you.’

Her eyes were wide, her expression earnest. ‘I did not think I would go far,’ she said. ‘I told him I was only going to the Cathedral, but then I…I thought I would like to see the convent at Nunnaminster.’

Liar, liar, Adam thought, fighting to school his expression to one of polite interest. ‘What was it like?’