Page 50 of Hers To Command
Sir Ranulf put his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands and leaned closer. “Didyouunderstand exactly what you were asking of him?”
She shifted and tried to maintain her dignified poise. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“No one here seems to have considered the broader consequences for Henry or his family or his friends if he helped you, including Henry. I can appreciate that you found yourself in dire circumstances, my lady, but Henry is not so powerful that he can risk the king’s enmity. And even if Henry wins a battle against Roald and secures you your inheritance, his life may be endangered in other ways. His chances for an estate could be seriously compromised, as well.
“More, his brother could be drawn into this dispute because he has some influence, and hewilluse it if he thinks Henry is in danger. So might his sister, who loves Henry dearly.
“And then there is the lord of Tregellas, a good friend and ally to the king’s brother, the earl of Cornwall. The king may see a conspiracy involving us all.”
In truth, Mathilde had not considered all these things, but she resented this man’s implication that she had blithely ignored the risks to Henry. She hadn’t…exactly. “No one forced his hand, Sir Ranulf. It was his decision to come here, because he’s a knight sworn to protect ladies. I admit I didn’t think of everything that it might mean for Sir Henry, but what would you have had me do? Turn Ecclesford over to Roald and hope that he would be merciful?”
Yet even as she spoke, guilt and remorse—feelings with which she was all too familiar—washed over her. She had told herself…convinced herself…that there would be no risk of any kind to Henry, even while knowing deep inside that any knight who came to their aid would anger Roald and perhaps face the queen’s wrath, too.
As subtle as the passage of the sun from dawn to dusk, Ranulf’s attitude shifted from interrogator to sympathetic counselor. “Tell me, my lady, are you really willing to let him die or ruin his life for you? For his sake, and that of his family and friends, I ask you to tell him to go.”
Did this man, this stranger, have any idea what he was really asking of her? “We need him.”
“No, you don’t, my lady,” Sir Ranulf replied evenly, as if this was not a matter of life and death, sorrow and suffering. “You can leave this castle, seek sanctuary and fight for your rights through the law.”
Who was this man to tell her what to do, especially when she had tried to avoid a battle every way she could, except surrender?
She rose and faced him squarely. “Roald brings the battle, not me. And if Henry wants to leave here, I will not try to stop him. But you should be proud to have such a friend, a man of honor and chivalry, and not seek to turn him into a selfish coward.”
“What in God’s name are you doing, Ranulf?” Henry demanded.
They both turned to see him on the threshold of the solar, his hands braced against the door frame as if he would forcefully widen the door.
Henry had never been more angry in his life, except once: when he had learned what Roald had done to Mathilde. Now, as then, fury engulfed him. Rage burned within him because this man whom he had considered a friend had presumed to chastise him like a child, then had the gall to go behind his back and upset Mathilde. Despite her glorious, courageous defiance, he could see her distress in the lines of concern in her brow and in the depths of her beautiful eyes.
“Why are you still here, Ranulf?” he demanded, letting go of the frame and walking into the room. “Are you seeking to destroy what reputation I have left after Merrick called me Judas and nearly killed me?”
“I’mtryingto prevent you from making the worst mistake of your life,” Ranulf replied, getting to his feet.
“How kind—but you’re no paragon of virtue. Your own family cast you off, or have you conveniently forgotten that?”
Ranulf flushed, and equal anger appeared in his hazel eyes. Henry knew he had struck a low blow, but he didn’t care. Ranulf had struck an even lower blow by going behind his back to Mathilde.
“What happened to me in the past is not important,” Ranulf said through clenched teeth. “I’m more concerned with what you’re doing right now, and what it could mean for you, your family and your friends, although you don’t seem to give a damn. Nicholas may be in Scotland, but the king’s reach is long, and the queen’s even longer. What about your sister? What about Merrick? Do you care less about them than you do about two ladies you didn’t even know until a few weeks ago?”
Henry’s eyes darted to Mathilde, her face pale, her eyes full of pain—but her back was straight, her gaze steady as she stood there, watching them. “I will not abandon the ladies of Ecclesford.”
The church bells rang—three times and then a pause, and then three more.
“What?” Ranulf demanded, his gaze darting from Henry to Mathilde as they exchanged troubled looks. “What does that mean?”
“It means, myfriend,”Henry said with scornful gravity, “that Roald has come back. If you’re going to run home to Tregellas, you’d better make haste.”
“Areyouleaving?”
“Not until Roald is defeated or dead.”
Ranulf fixed a resolute gaze on Henry. “Then neither am I. As you were so good to point out, my family has cast me off, so there’s no risk to them if I stay, and thanks to you, Merrick’s already entangled in this dispute. AndIdo not forget that we’re sworn brothers-in-arms.”
“We don’t need your help,” Henry said.
“A fighting force should never shun an extra man, Sir Leonard always used to say.”
“I don’t think—”
