not go on as she saw his hands clench at his sides.
‘Nay, Lady Alayne,’ he replied. ‘You have no need to fear me, for I would not violate any lady, whether she be innocent or the wickedest wench alive.’
Something in the way he was looking at her made Alayne think that he disapproved of her and she raised her head proudly. ‘You seem to criticise me, my lord. Do you think me a wicked wench because I laugh when the courtiers try to court me?’
Again, she didn’t know how tempting she was as she stood there, her head tipped back, challenging him. Had he been young and carefree, he would have been tempted to crush her in his arms and tell her that she was the most desirable woman he had ever seen—but that way lay only pain and grief and he had been burned before.
‘How can I think you anything when I do not know you?’
‘I know you heard Baron de Froissart asking me what would win my heart earlier this afternoon. I gave him no reason to hope, nor have I encouraged others. It is the way of the court to jest over such things.’
Sir Ralph bowed his head. Was it possible she was that innocent? It hardly seemed likely. She had been wed before and must surely know her own power? Once again he felt the overwhelming desire to take her in his arms and kiss her, but crushed it ruthlessly. It was madness! She was not for him.
His manner was stern, seeming to disapprove as he said, ‘I beg your pardon if I have misjudged you in any part, Lady Alayne. I am a stranger here and your ways are not my ways.’
‘No. Therefore you should not judge.’
Her eyes sparkled with defiance as she met his chilling gaze. She was not used to such brusque manners from the knights who courted her with sweet words and songs—and she did not care for it.
‘You are very right,’ he agreed and inclined his head, a faint, rueful smile about his mouth, softening it so that she was suddenly aware of a foolish desire to be kissed. But not by him. No, certainly not by him! ‘I have clearly insulted you, which was not my intention. I would say only that my advice holds true. It is not wise for a woman as young and lovely as you to walk alone, either at night or during the day.’
Sir Ralph bowed to her once more, turned and walked away, leaving her to stare after him in frustration. She thought him cold and arrogant, though his assurance came from within and was not the posturing of a fool. He was a man who knew his own power and authority, and lived by it. Yet beneath the ice she had sensed heat, a passion that had seemed to burn her, touching a place within her that she had believed no man could reach.
No, no, that was nonsense! She had merely found him interesting, a complex character. It was not as easy for her to read his mind as some other knights, who showed their feelings openly. What was it that he wanted to hide? And why had he chosen to warn her that she might be in danger? Was it true? Was she in danger even here?
She shivered suddenly as a chill touched her spine. Surely he was making too much of the risks? No one at court dare disobey the Queen, for she would punish them heavily if they did, especially if they flouted the rules of chivalry that she had set for her courtiers.
Alayne had always believed herself perfectly safe wherever she went at court, but now the shadow in the corners became menacing and she retraced her steps swiftly towards the hall, the light of the smoky torches and the laughter of her friends.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Baron de Froissart called to her as she made her way towards a group of ladies. ‘We wondered where you were, lady. Sir Jonquil has prepared a poem for you—will you hear him?’
‘Yes, yes, you must hear him!’ clamoured a dozen voices. ‘We want to hear his poem!’
Alayne smiled, her confidence restored in the familiar atmosphere of laughter and teasing. She was foolish to let the brooding of that strange English knight upset her!
Sir Ralph did not immediately return to the hall after leaving Lady Alayne, though he was relieved to see that she did so almost at once. He frowned as he wondered what had made him speak to her as he had. It was not his business if she chose to walk alone, nor if she flirted carelessly with men he considered unworthy. She had been married and must understand the danger she courted.
No woman could look and act as she did and be as innocent as she would have it! There was something about her that had drawn him despite himself, a witchery or enchantment that made his blood pulse in his veins. She claimed to be innocent of guile and for a moment he had almost been swayed by those proud eyes, but he had learned not be moved by a woman’s tears and looks of reproach. Berenice had been young and foolish, but the Lady Alayne was very different. Any man foolish enough to let himself be caught in her toils would surely rue the day he had met her!
Ralph had heard much of the fabled Court of Love and of the rules of chivalry surrounding it. Such nonsense would no doubt appeal to vulnerable young women, who thought it amusing to tease and arouse the men who courted them, but Ralph knew too well that all men were base. It was dangerous to walk too near the edge with men in whom the beast lived near the surface—even he had been tempted to taste the honey Lady Alayne’s lips seemed to promise and it was unkind memory, not chivalry, that had held him from the brink. If it were not for the memory of another woman’s tears… His thoughts were diverted as he heard voices, close by but in the shadows.
‘De Froissart wants her. If he has his way, she will be his lover and perhaps more ere too long has passed.’
‘He plays games. She is not to be won so easily. She ignores my tributes as she ignores me. She has set her face against marriage and cannot be reached.’
Two men were arguing, their voices sour and heated, and Ralph sensed instinctively that they were discussing the Lady Alayne.
‘But if she were to change her mind?’ the first man said. ‘This tourney in her honour may win her. You know how the ladies love to watch good sport, and she will be the Queen of the day. Her head may be turned by all the excitement. De Froissart is a past champion. There are few that could succeed against him. He will win the right to court her and, if she yields to him as a lover…’
‘You think her father would demand marriage as the price of her honour if he knew?’
‘The Baron de Robspierre seeks power and fortune. De Froissart is rich enough and popular at court. I have heard him speak of winning honour at England’s court. The lady’s father would welcome such a match.’
‘I would see him dead first!’
‘Then you must enter the lists against him. You must receive her favour. Gain her confidence and make her like you. All the ladies love a brave warrior. Many a wench has fallen into my arms after watching me fight. Take her while she is hot for you! Once she is yours, you may find a way to tame her.’
‘I have not the skill to defeat de Froissart in a tourney. Others, yes; I believe I might prevail with them, but de Froissart is a mighty warrior.’
‘Play the coward’s part and you will lose your chance.’
‘I have a plan…’
The voices were growing fainter, as though the men had walked on. Ralph strained to listen, but he could no longer hear what they said and was unsure which direction they had taken. He did not know the voices, but recognised the greed and evil that drove them to their wicked plotting.
Ralph
