because it hadn’t been that close. She couldn’t quite summon the vacant expression she usually reserved for irritating men, but she nodded. “If you desire anything you have only to ask one of the servants,” she said, starting to move away before he could change his mind. Not that he was likely to.
But to her shock he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, halting her escape. Strange, but the feel of his hand against her shoulder, bare flesh against bare flesh, had been oddly disturbing. This time the weight of his hand through solid layers of clothing was even more unsettling. Hands touched all the time during the course of the day. Seldom did people touch any other part of her body. Particularly tall, handsome males. And there was no disputing that Prince William was very handsome indeed.
“I won’t be needing anything. As doubtless you’ve heard, this is a journey of penance.” There was a faint distaste in his smile, though she wasn’t sure whom it was directed at. Himself, or the powers that had decreed he must atone. “You would be wise to seek your bed as well, my lady. We’ll be making an early start of it, and my guard tend to be impatient.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And the friars will see to themselves. They’ve taken a vow of poverty, remember? They’re perfectly adept at taking care of their own comfort. They don’t need you hovering around them.”
“I don’t hover.”
“You looked as if you wanted to,” he said. He hadn’t lifted his hand from her shoulder, and the weight of it was warm, heavy, spreading through her body in a most disturbing manner.
“I’m mistress of the castle,” she said. “That’s been my purpose in life, to see that my father’s guests are well taken care of.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’ll be putting your talents to something more useful,” he said. “Do I have your promise?”
She jerked her head up to look at him, honest surprise wiping every other consideration from her mind. “Promise, my lord?”
“To keep away from the great hall?” he said patiently. “To seek your quarters and stay there till the morning light? The men I’ve brought with me aren’t trustworthy when it comes to women.”
And you are? she wanted to ask, but she decided she’d already pushed her luck to extremes. And he was letting her leave, untouched. She should be wise and grateful.
It was easy enough to agree, when it was exactly as she had intended. “I promise, my lord. Though I must say you greatly overestimate any effect I might have on susceptible males. I have found that I am entirely safe from such things.”
His grin was slow, wicked, the complete opposite of Brother Matthew’s saintly smile. And far more dangerous. “I think you greatly underestimate susceptible males, my lady. And if I weren’t atoning for my sins I’d be sorely tempted to drag you into that room and commit a great many more.” He put his hand on her other shoulder, and he started to draw her closer, and she looked up into his dark, dark eyes, letting him do it, wondering if he would kiss her. She would have liked one last kiss before she took her holy vows, though she’d be much better off being kissed by Brother Matthew than the most dangerously lecherous man in the entire kingdom.
But no one else would want her, so it didn’t matter. She couldn’t move, she simply closed her eyes as he brought her closer, and his lips settled on her…forehead. A brief benediction, and then he let her go.
Not even good enough for a desperate lecher, she thought. Thank all the mercies of heaven for that. She stepped back, and if she didn’t know better she would have thought his release was reluctant.
“Sleep well, my lord,” she said, turning to leave, hiding her intense and totally irrational annoyance. “I’ll be ready to go whenever you wish. Have peaceful dreams.”
“I doubt it,” he muttered. And a moment later he’d closed the door of the solar behind him, leaving her alone in the hallway, with the feel of his mouth on her forehead, taunting her.
An hour later he was sprawled in a chair in the solar, watching the fire, when he heard the faint scratching on the door, the creak of the leather hinges. He allowed himself a stray hope that it was a certain tall, skinny, redheaded creature who wasn’t anywhere near as meek or as witless as she’d have everyone believe, and then relaxed when one of the monks ducked inside, closing the door silently behind him.
“Did anyone see you?”
Brother Adrian shook his head. “Not a soul. I already had an excuse ready—you were in need of spiritual counseling and my Christian duty was to aid you.”
“And I would have turned to the youngest monk in my retinue? Somehow it seems unlikely.”
Adrian flushed. “I didn’t think…”
“It’s all right, Brother Adrian. They would simply assume I’m extending my debauchery to those of my own sex. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Brother Adrian frowned. “But you wouldn’t. You don’t…” he faltered.
“I don’t,” the man said. “But Prince William does. Is the prince safely settled for the night?”
“He is.”
“No women anywhere near him?”
“None.”
The man sighed. “This is harder than I expected. Keep watch on him, Adrian. He cares nothing for atonement.”
“And you care too much,” Adrian was bold enough to say.
2
Elizabeth was up early. She’d always been impatient with too much sleep, and on the day she was to start her new life she could barely wait. Excitement bubbled in her veins, and even though her meager belongings were packed and her goodbyes said, she still rose before the first light, pulled her loose-fitting dull brown gown over her shift and laced it herself, and then sat by the window as the sun climbed over the eastern hills. It would be the last time she would see it from this window, and she wondered that she felt no twinge of sorrow. There would be other sunrises, in other places. She’d seen enough of this one.
She leaned her head against the cool stone wall and watched as the household slowly came alive. The milkmaids straggled into view first, and Elizabeth could tell even from that distance that the household guests had found amiable company among them. They were followed by the stable help and then the rest of the household servants, one by one, as they set about their duties. There was no sign of the visitors, either knights or monks, even as full daylight spread over her father’s keep.
It was an orderly, well-run household, despite her father’s slovenly ways, and she had always done her best to make it so. God only knew what it would look like when next she saw it—if she ever did. Even a small castle such as Bredon required a strong chatelaine to order the multitude of servants necessary. In the few years since her father had discovered daughters, even plain ones, had a use after all, she had been kept at a run, overseeing even the merest details of a household that required a small army to run. She seldom had time for her own interests, her study of the stars and the curative effects of roots and herbs. However, she’d become quite masterful at feeding and caring for the fifty or more members of her father’s household.
Who
