Besieged And Betrothed. Jenni Fletcher
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She shot to her feet so quickly that her stool toppled backwards, landing with a clatter on the floorboards. There were no rushes, he noticed, something else they must have run out of. After four months of siege, it appeared that both castle and chatelaine were reaching the end of their tether. He could see tension in every line of her body, as if she might snap at any moment.
‘What difference would it make even if they did retreat?’ He kept on pushing, hardening his heart against the bizarre urge to offer comfort instead. ‘You’d only buy yourself a few days, a week at the most, before the Empress sends them back again.’
‘Maybe that’s all I need.’
It was only a murmur, but enough to make his brows snap together at once. Was that why she was so determined to hold out then, because she was waiting for reinforcements? The last he’d heard, Stephen’s forces had been busy fortifying coastal defences against the threat of Angevin landings, but perhaps she knew something he didn’t. If Stephen were heading back into Herefordshire, then it made capturing Haword even more vital. In which case, he had to persuade her to surrender now...
‘What’s that?’ She twisted her head at a clamouring sound from outside, the clanking of metal over the dull hum of voices.
‘Take a look.’
He nodded towards the window and she ran towards it, unlatching the shutters and flinging them wide. Even from across the room he could hear her sharp intake of breath.
‘What are they doing?’
‘Hard to say from here, but at a guess I’d say they’re preparing for battle. I’d suggest that your men do the same.’
‘But I don’t want to fight!’
‘Then surrender. My offer still stands.’
She spun around, eyes widening with amazement. ‘You’d forgive me after I drugged you?’
‘Apparently so.’ He surprised himself with the answer. He could forgive her, though mercy alone knew why. ‘Although I think we can keep that part between ourselves.’
She stared at him mutely for a few seconds, her expression veering between defiance and uncertainty, before she reached into the folds of her gown and drew out a slim, though still lethal-looking dagger.
‘No.’ Her face took on a look of resolve. ‘I’m the chatelaine and this is still my castle. We’re going to the battlements.’
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