Page 49 of Hers To Command
“I’m not staying here because of her,” Henry snarled. “I’m staying here because I’m an honorable knight. I’ve told these women I’ll help them, and by God, I will! So you can take yourself back to Tregellas and leave me to do what I must.” His lips curled with a sneer. “And have no fear. I won’t call upon you, or Merrick, or my brother to come to my aid. After all, it might be toodangerous.”
Just as angry, Ranulf returned his glare. “Now you’ll insult me?”
“Why not?” Henry demanded, his hands balling into fists. “You’ve insulted me by implying my only reason for being here is greed or lust—and you’ve insulted me plenty of times before this. You’ve always treated me like I’m your jester. Here’s Henry, good for some laughs. Oh, Henry said it, so of course we won’t take it seriously. Pay no attention—it’s only Henry.”
“God’s blood, Henry, you’re the one who makes jokes about everything,” Ranulf cried with exasperation. “I can count on the fingers of one hand the times you’ve been serious about anything.”
“Count on this, then, Ranulf,” Henry said, jabbing his friend in the chest with his forefinger. “I’m serious about staying here, and nothing you, or anybody else, can say to me is going to change that.”
Ranulf knocked Henry’s hand away. “You’ll risk putting these ladies in more danger?”
“I’m going to protect them from Roald, even if I die doing it, so go back to Tregellas and tell Merrick not to meddle with me or my life again. Tell him to write to my brother, since they are on such good terms, and say the same to Nicholas—who was apparently so concerned about my welfare he couldn’t be bothered to send a letter to me directly, but had to ask my friends what I was up to, like a gossiping old woman.”
“It’s clearly useless to try to talk some sense into you,” Ranulf said, turning on his heel.
“If by sense you mean abandoning the ladies of Ecclesford and leaving them to the tender mercies of Roald de Sayres, yes, it is.”
Ranulf paused at the end of the corridor and turned back to look at a man he no longer recognized. “I’ll leave at first light.”
“Good!”
AFTERRANULFleft him without another word, Henry slumped back against the wall, panting like a wounded animal.
Leave Mathilde to face Roald without him? Never, as long as he lived, and regardless of any problems it brought him. Nicholas, Marianne’s husband and Merrick could all look after themselves; he must and would protect Mathilde.
WHEN MATHILDEentered the hall the next morning shortly before dawn, yawning after another restless night, haunted by both desire and regret that she hadn’t kissed Henry on the stairs, she was surprised to find Sir Ranulf not just up and about, but dressed as if he was preparing to leave Ecclesford that very day. Not even all the men of the household were awake, and the only servants already about their daily duties were those in the kitchen.
“Good morning, Sir Ranulf,” she said when he saw her and acknowledged her presence with a bow. “You’re not thinking of leaving us so soon?”
She tried to keep any hope from her voice, but in truth she found this redheaded man and his shrewd gaze as unsettling as the news he’d brought about Roald. He made her feel as if he could ferret out all her secrets, all her most private hopes and fears, simply by looking at her long enough.
“Alas, my lady, I must,” he replied. “My duties summon me back to Tregellas.”
“Then I hope the weather holds,” she said, continuing to make polite conversation. “Sir Henry will surely be sorry you couldn’t stay with us longer.”
Sir Ranulf smiled, but there was no joy in his eyes. “I’m sure he’ll understand why I couldn’t stay.”
She caught an undercurrent of bitterness in the man’s voice. Last night she’d noticed Henry’s constraint and wondered what was wrong. He’d spoken of Sir Ranulf many times, and always as a friend, but they hadn’t seemed very friendly. “My sister will be sorry you left before she was able to say goodbye.”
That brought a wry gleam to Sir Ranulf’s hazel eyes. “Will she?”
“Any friend of Sir Henry’s is a friend to us as well.”
Sir Ranulf glanced at the steps leading to the bedchambers. Was he looking for Giselle? Then he turned back to her and fixed his steadfast gaze upon her. “My lady, may I have a private word with you before I go? About Henry?”
Her curiosity and dread instantly aroused, she wondered if it had been Henry he’d been looking for—and hoping to avoid? “Of course. We can speak in the solar.”
Once there, not a little worried by Sir Ranulf’s request and his mysterious manner, she lit the candles in the tall iron stand near the window shuttered with linen to keep out the wind. As the candles flicked to brightness, she nodded at a chair. “Please sit down.”
He did, and when she had, too, he again regarded her with his shrewd and discomfiting gaze. “My lady, how did you meet Henry?”
She hadn’t been expecting that question and hesitated to answer. What would he think if she told him the truth?
She decided to give him part of it. “He was staying at a nearby inn, and as we had need of a knight to help us defend our home from our cousin, we sought him out and asked him to assist us.”
“He understood exactly why you wanted his aid, and against whom?” Sir Ranulf asked.
“Yes,” she replied.
