eyes searched his and after a moment she reached forwards, cool fingers feathered across his forehead. ‘Are you feeling stronger?’
William nodded, he took no notice of the pounding in his head.
‘Your skin was burning earlier, thankfully you seem cooler. Would you care for more wine?’
‘Please.’
Recognising the change of subject as meaning he would get nothing more from her, William sipped fine wine from the Venetian goblet and willed his anger away. For the moment he was content simply to watch her. His brain didn’t seem to be working for much else and watching her was preferable to snapping at her.
This woman was not his enemy. He must direct his anger at his real enemy, at whoever arranged for his capture in Apulia. Lady Anna had nothing to do with that. She may well want something from him, but she was going to be disappointed—he was going home to search out his enemy and take his revenge. In the meantime …
Watching Lady Anna was as pleasant a way of passing the time as any. William couldn’t say what it was about her, but she intrigued him. The simplicity of the dull brown gown and veil suggested someone whose rank was unremarkable, yet she was, apparently, lady-in-waiting to Princess Theodora.
And her Imperial mistress, as he recalled from what he had seen at the slave market, had worn equally unremarkable clothes. Why? And why had the Princess ventured outside the Palace with only a handful of men as her escort? Surely an Imperial princess should have a great entourage? The customs of the Great Palace were as much a mystery to William as the subtleties of female attire, but one thing he had learned from what had happened to his mother—there was a rigid hierarchy in the Imperial Palace.
Here, rank meant everything. As in any great palace, courtiers must fight and jostle for power. Reputation and prestige would be guarded most jealously. So the quiet foray that Lady Anna and her princess had made to the slave market had been unorthodox, to say the least of it.
It was on the tip of William’s tongue to inform her that he was no slave, that he was a knight from the Duchy of Apulia and Calabria, but the old instincts were strong. Until he knew more about the Palace, until he knew more about this woman and what she wanted him to do, he would tread warily. Life had taught him not to give his trust too easily, it was a lesson which was hard to set aside.
Her gaze was downcast, giving him leisure to study her. Her eyelashes were long and dark, and her eyes had been lightly outlined with some cosmetic. Other than that her face was clear of paint. His mouth went up at a corner. No whore of Babylon here. Her nose was straight and beneath her veil her hair looked to be wavy, dark tendrils were curling about her forehead. Her complexion was clear, her skin was a golden olive in tone.
Why should a lady-in-waiting be nursing a slave? It made no sense, unless she was studying him to see if he was fit for this secret purpose of hers.
That hazy memory stirred and he was back at the slave market with the Princess murmuring in his ear. ‘I have bought you for Lady Anna, it is she who owns you.’
What can Lady Anna want of me?
Draining the goblet, he handed it back. ‘My thanks.’
Mon Dieu, he was weary, from head to foot everything ached. Yawning, William let his eyelids droop.
With the children safe, there was nothing more to delay him. He would rest awhile … and then, whether or not Lady Anna freed him, he would take his leave of this place. He must find the man who betrayed him in Apulia—he would have justice!
William dragged up the covers and found himself at the receiving end of a gentle smile. The warmth was back in her eyes, Lady Anna had forgiven him his curtness. He had responded with a smile of his own before he had time to check it. Whatever she might want of him, she seemed to be a good woman, she was certainly a beautiful one. But it would take more than a gentle smile to make him put his faith in anyone but himself.
‘Before you rest, please … what is your name?’
‘William.’
‘William of …? Where are you from? You were born outside the Empire, I think.’
Her voice was quietly persistent. It was likely she was trying to lull him into lowering his guard and believing he could trust her. She would not succeed. And even though William would be leaving shortly, he was reluctant to confess that he was in truth a knight. His pride was not ready for the public admission that he, Sir William Bradfer, had been enslaved.
‘The slave master said that you were a Frank,’ she added.
William grunted. Her presence at his side was oddly comforting, which proved nothing except that his months as a slave had weakened him. Hunching his shoulder on her, William closed his eyes. Now that the children were safe, he must give his body a chance to regain its strength.
And then, regardless of Lady Anna’s intentions, he would make his escape. Apulia, and revenge on his unknown enemy, awaited.
Anna stood frowning outside the Princess’s bedchamber. She exchanged glances with the guard at the door, a new recruit called Kari.
What is going on? Katerina and the Commander have been in there for an age! Surely they are not … are not …?
With a click, the bedchamber door swung open and the Commander came out, buckling on his belt.
He is buckling on his belt? No!
Jaw agape, Anna watched him leave the apartment. She hurtled into the bedchamber, slamming the door behind her.
‘Princess!’ she cried, remembering even in her dismay, to use the title that Katerina had assumed. ‘Are you mad?’
She could scarcely believe what she was seeing. Katerina is naked under that sheet! Naked. ‘What in heaven is going on?’
Katerina shrugged. ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’
‘The Commander and you …?’
‘Yes, Anna, the Commander and I.’
This was terrible. Everything was going wrong. In her role as Princess Theodora, Katerina had returned to the Palace only yesterday, everyone believed she was preparing to meet her betrothed. As Anna bent to retrieve Katerina’s gown and veil from the floor, her thoughts whirled. When Princess Theodora, the real Princess Theodora, had asked for Anna’s help in this masquerade, Anna had feared it was doomed from the start. It was true that Katerina bore a striking resemblance to Princess Theodora, it was also true that the Princess had not returned to the Palace for at least ten years, so few here would recognise her, but the pitfalls were many. Anna had known there would be … difficulties. But never once did she suspect that Katerina might put the entire scheme at risk by bedding the Commander …!
‘It must be the strain,’ she muttered. ‘I told the Princess that you were not suitable to take her place. She should have sent someone who understood the protocols.’
‘Someone with more breeding, you mean,’ Katerina said.
Conscious of those in the reception chamber—the servants, the Frank, the guard—Anna kept her voice low. ‘Since you care to put it like that,
