Chapter Eight #3
She sighed faintly, pulling her shawl around her more tightly in a gesture of self-protection.
“I told ye that the battle at Etal was because of me,” she said quietly.
“But what I dinna tell ye, and the entire reason I’m at Castle Questing, is because my clan began tae blame me for the deaths of sons and fathers.
Those who perished in the fight at Etal.
They began tae point fingers and whisper.
They began tae say terrible things tae me.
It was my father’s decision tae attack Etal, not mine, but I’m still a target for their anger.
That’s why my da sent me here. So I would be safe from my own clan.
’Tis a difficult way tae live, knowing yer family hates ye and ye’re safe only in the land of yer enemies. ”
He shifted on his enormous legs, folding his big arms across his chest. “But it was not your fault.”
“I know. And so do they. But people in pain need something tae lash out at.”
“And that is you.”
“Aye.”
He thought on that a moment. “I am not entirely sure that is fair to you,” he said. “What does de Wolfe say about it?”
“William?”
“Aye.”
She shrugged. “Nothing, at least not tae me,” she said. “But Jordan says I’m never going back. She says I need tae remain here and marry an English knight.”
“Is that what you want?”
She struggled not to grin, lowering her gaze but he swore he could see a flush to her cheeks. “There are those who seem tae think it is what I want.”
He thought her blush was rather charming and he sat down beside her on the bench, though he was several inches away.
It wouldn’t do to get too close to her because, quite honestly, the more he saw of her, the more he liked.
She was sweet and delicious and gentle, everything that made a woman irresistible in his eyes.
Moreover, she had a figure that he just knew would feel good pressed against him.
With his arms around her…
He shook himself from increasingly passionate thoughts.
“Do I sense lads who need a sound thrashing?” he said, a glimmer of mirth in his eyes. “Tell me immediately, my lady. Who is harassing you?”
Her blush deepened. “They’re not harassing me.”
“Annoying?”
“Nay.”
“Frustrating?”
“Nay.”
She was giggling now and War found himself caught up in a game he rarely played – the art of the gentle flirt.
With a Scots, no less.
“You must tell me who is menacing you,” he demanded, though it was done in fun. “It has been a while since I have beat a man soundly and if I do not have a victim soon, I might do something regretful.”
She covered her mouth because she was giggling so. “Like what?”
He cocked his head thoughtfully. “I might have to harass you,” he said. “And annoy you. And menace you.”
“Ye wouldna!”
“Then tell me immediately who is making demands of you so I have something to focus my appetite to pummel on.”
She burst out laughing. “Appetite to pummel?” she repeated slowly. “God’s Bones, that sounds painful.”
He was enjoying her laughter greatly. “It is,” he said. “For them. My lady, you do not seem to understand.”
“What do I not understand?”
A smile spread across his lips as he looked at her. “You saved my life,” he said, suddenly dropping the tone of his voice. “That means I have a debt to repay, any way I can.”
Her hand came away from her mouth. “So that’s why ye want tae champion me? Because ye’ll repay a debt?”
That wasn’t what he wanted her to think, not in the least. The lightness of the conversation transitioned into something else at that moment, something warm and curious. Gone was the jesting.
Attraction had made an obvious appearance.
“Nay,” he said quietly. “That is not why. It is because I want to and any debt, imagined or otherwise, has nothing to do with it. You are a lady worth defending, even by someone as unworthy as me.”
Annaleigh could see the light of warmth in his eyes and it made her heart quiver like nothing she’d ever experienced. She simply didn’t think it was possible that he should think as highly of her as she thought of him, but his words said otherwise.
Surely it is only obligation he feels!
“Ye jest with me,” she said, her cheeks flushing again. “And other than my English cousins, ye’re the worthiest knight I’ve ever heard of. By the way, what’s a Blackchurch?”
His smile grew. “It’s simply Blackchurch,” he said. “Or, the Blackchurch Guild. It is a training guild where one learns to become the best knight in the world.”
“Is it difficult?”
“If you truly wish to know, I’d be happy to tell you sometime.”
“Why not now?”
He looked around. “Because it is dark and it is cold,” he said. “All proper young ladies should be in bed.”
“Yet I’m not,” Annaleigh said. “I’m here with ye. If ye send me back tae bed now, I’ll spend all night wondering what a Blackchurch is. Ye wouldna do that tae me, would ye?”
He flashed his teeth as he laughed softly. “Nay, I would not do that to you intentionally,” he said. “Where shall I begin?”
Annaleigh knew that she had him in her power now.
She could see it in his eyes. He was willing to do whatever she asked and she realized it was a frightening amount of power.
But he was doing it so willingly, so kindly.
Surely tomorrow would see her power ended, but while she had it, she was going to enjoy it.
And him.
She pulled the shawl tighter against the night air.
“From the beginning,” she said. “Tell me where ye were born and where ye lived as a lad. Then ye can tell me how ye came tae the Blackchurch and everything about it.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You want my entire life story?”
She averted her gaze and looked away. “’Tis too much tae ask,” she said. “I’m very sorry. I was simply enjoying the conversation.”
She started to stand up but he put an enormous hand on her arm, stopping her. “I did not mean it that way,” he said quickly. “I am simply in awe that such a fine lady should be curious about me.”
Annaleigh was a smart girl. She knew how to flirt, and how to bend a man to her will, when the mood struck her. She didn’t use those charms very often, if at all, but they seemed to come naturally with War. And, like a weakling, he succumbed. Fighting off a grin, she sat back down.
“Of course I am,” she said. “Ye’re the commander of Bamburgh Castle, a knight sent by Henry himself. Ye must have dozens of ladies throwing themselves at yer feet, wanting tae know yer life story.”
A smile played on his lips as he looked at her. “Are you one of them?”
“I asked ye, didna I?”
His grin broke through. “Mostly, I ignore those women,” he said. “But you… I will not ignore you.”
She smiled because he was. Maybe he understood what she was doing, just a little, and he was more than willing to go along with it.
More than willing.
“Good,” she said. “Then tell me from the beginning. Where were ye born and why were ye named Warwick?”
He settled in for a long and hopefully meaningful conversation. “I was born in Suffolk and named for Warwick Castle,” he said. “My father fostered there as a child and had fond memories of the place.”
“Where did ye grow up?”
He told her.
It was Jordan who came looking for her young cousin about an hour later.
She’d gone to check on Annaleigh to see how her bellyache was faring and when she found her bed empty, her first destination was the great hall.
In order to get to the hall, however, she had to pass by the walled garden.
Glancing through the gate was simply a habit, as she always did that, but in this case, it paid off.
She found her wayward cousin.
And with the very knight she’d hoped there might be an attraction for.
Jordan watched for a few moments, out of sight, knowing she should break up whatever conversation was going on and escort Annaleigh back to her bedchamber, but she couldn’t seem to manage it.
The two of them were sitting a proper distance apart, beneath the glow of the torches, but whatever War was saying had Annaleigh in gales of laughter.
When Jordan realized that, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face, either.
Perhaps her matchmaking was going to pay off, after all.
Turning for the keep, she left Annaleigh and War to their conversation.