Page 23 of Hers To Command
Feeling the need to put some distance between them, she pushed herself off the table and went around behind it, and the heavy chair. “Nevertheless, you have my apology.”
“Gratefully accepted,” he replied, his tone and his voice making her feel…as she should not.
She gripped the back of the chair, tempted to tell him to leave the solar. She might have, had her sister and Cerdic not just insulted him. She could go, except to do so might betray her discomfort in his presence, and that she was loath to do. She didn’t want him—or any man—to think her weak or afraid. “As garrison commander, what will you do first?” she asked instead.
As he considered, he rested his hand on the top of the table and leaned against it.
His strong, sinewy hand, with its long fingers. A powerful hand. A warrior’s hand, calloused and sun-browned.
A lover’s hand, for surely he’d had many. How could he not, with that face and form?
She would never know what it would be like to be wooed by such a man.
“First we should have a muster of the men to announce my new responsibility.”
“Of course,” she replied, sounding brisk and businesslike despite her wayward thoughts.
“I should check their armor and mail, and the weapons in the armory—you dohavean armory?”
Even the way his brow rose when he asked a question was attractive. “In the keep.”
“After that, I’ll have to see what skills they possess and which they lack. And then,” he concluded with a devilishly delightful grin that nearly undid her, “there will be running. Lots of running.”
“Running?” she repeated—sounding like a dumbstruck fool, she silently chided.
He smiled brightly. “Oh, yes. How they’ll hate it—and me.”
He had said a garrison commander should be feared, but she found it hard to believe that a man this friendly and amiable would actually seek to be disliked. “You really want them to hate you?” she asked as she came around the chair, the better to read his expression.
He laughed, apparently amused by her question. “Oh, yes.” He lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper and leaned closer, his brown eyes alight with glee, like a little boy sharing a secret with his best friend. “You see, my lady, the more soldiers hate the men who train them, the better they treat each other. They become united against a common foe.”
“I never realized…” She hadn’t realized he was quite that close.
Tantalizingly close.
Frighteningly close. Her heart started to pound and she started to feel dizzy.
“What is it?” he asked, all traces of amusement gone from his face. “Are you ill?”
She put her hand to her head, willing away the memories, and the panic, and the fear. He was Henry, not Roald. “No, no, I’m fine.”
“The hell you are,” he declared. “Sit down. I’ll fetch your sister.”
“No! No,” she repeated when he halted and turned back. “It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Ah, yes, I remember,” he said softly, with compassion and sympathy that was even more appealing and unsettling than his smile. “Let’s have the muster of the men right now, and save the armory for another time, when you are not so fatigued and haven’t just quarreled with your sister.”
She wanted to protest the implication that she was upset, but she didn’t. The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone with Sir Henry in the dim confines of the armory. Or anywhere else.
He politely held out his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”
“Thank you,” she said, rising and putting her hand on his muscular forearm, and fighting to ignore the feel of his flesh beneath her fingers as he led her from the room.
FROM HIS PLACEon the hall steps where he stood at Lady Mathilde’s side, Henry looked out over the men assembled in the yard. Most were not pleased with what she had just announced. Several exchanged wary glances. One or two were openly hostile, and these he would have to watch carefully. If they would not accept his command, they would have to go. Dissent in the ranks was like a disease that could spread until the whole garrison was infected.
As for the lady at his side, he wondered what she was really thinking. That she was pleased by his offer, he didn’t doubt. Or that she had been upset by the argument with her sister and Cerdic. Otherwise, she was a cipher, more difficult to understand than any woman he’d ever met.
“So you will obey Sir Henry as you would Lady Giselle or me,” Lady Mathilde concluded. “If you will not, you will leave Ecclesford at once, with the pay owed you until today.”
