Chapter Sixteen
Just because her father had chased her away so he could speak to Alexander didn’t mean she was going to stay away.
Christin was on the hunt.
She ran into Kevin near the keep and he mentioned that The Marshal was calling his men together to discuss the feast that night.
But when she headed down to The Marshal’s encampment, she happened to see her father entering The Marshal’s tent along with Bric, her Uncle David, and Alexander.
Knowing her father was in that meeting meant she would stay away unless she wanted to blow her cover.
Therefore, she hid.
The meeting went on for about an hour and she’d managed to work her way behind his tent, listening to everything that was being said.
She never heard her father speak, but she heard Alexander speak up on several occasions and it set her heart to fluttering.
Even the sound of his voice made her sigh.
She hadn’t seen her father since he’d sent her away so she didn’t know what was said between him and Alexander, but she intended to find out.
She knew her father was very protective, and caught off guard, which made for a bad combination.
The idea that he might have ruined her budding relationship with Alexander gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
So, she waited.
She knew the meeting couldn’t last forever and, in truth, she’d only been to a few of these all-gathered meetings.
If Susanna was there, then she was usually there, but The Marshal still had ideas about women and them participating in men’s games.
He needed women like Susanna and Christin, but he still didn’t fully pull them into his fold.
But Christin wasn’t offended by it because she was grateful for as far as she had come.
Towards the end of the meeting, the conversations drifted and men began to leave.
Mostly, Christin had heard everything she already knew about John, and about the alleged threat from within, so it really wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before.
When the meeting started breaking up, however, she peered around the side of the tent and watched her father and uncle head back to their encampment.
She saw Bric, Peter, Caius, and Kevin depart also.
It occurred to her that her father must know Peter to be part of The Marshal’s spy ring considering they were both in on the very same meeting.
That thought didn’t give her much hope about the man’s mood considering it was probably the second dose of important news he’d received that day – first her romance with Alexander and then the confirmation that Peter was an agent for The Marshal.
The poor man had already had a hell of a day and it wasn’t even time for the feast yet.
With men drifting out of The Marshal’s tent, Christin waited for Alexander to appear.
Maxton and Kress were still inside the tent, along with Alexander, so she went back to the spot where she’d had the best luck eavesdropping only to hear that William knew of Alexander’s romantic interest in her.
Christin sighed faintly, knowing her father must have told The Marshal.
She wondered what kind of trouble she’d be in for now, but part of her was glad that it was out.
Perhaps a little sooner than she would have liked, but at least it was out in the open now.
She hoped Alexander wasn’t in too much trouble for it.
Unfortunately, William kept his voice quiet as he spoke to Alexander, so she could only catch bits of the conversation.
Maxton and Kress never said a word; it all seemed to be William and, on occasion, Alexander, but he wasn’t speaking very loudly either.
It all seemed to be calm and quiet, which was good.
Or, so she thought. Finally, she heard the tent flap move and she peeked around the corner of the tent to see Alexander heading towards the gatehouse that led up to the keep.
Swiftly, she followed.
Since she didn’t want her father or William to see her, she had to dart through The Marshal’s encampment, essentially running to catch up with Alexander. He was just crossing the bridge into the keep when she came up behind him.
“Sherry?”
Startled, he came to a halt and whirled around. “Where did you come from?”
Christin threw her thumb over her shoulder, a vague answer. “That way,” she said. “I saw you come out of William’s tent.”
“You did? Where were you?”
She wasn’t going to lie to him. She was, if nothing else, an honest person, so lying to people she cared about didn’t come naturally.
“I was behind William’s tent, listening to everything he said,” she confessed. “I heard him say that he knows about… us.”
Alexander nodded slowly. “He does,” he said. “Is that all you heard?”
She gazed up at him, the breeze whipping her dark hair across her face. “I did not hear any details, if that is what you mean,” she said. “What else did he say?”
He regarded her for a moment. “Your father asked that I not speak to you for the rest of the day, you know.”
“Are you going to listen to him?”
Alexander glanced around to see if he saw Christopher or David, or any other Marshal man. When he didn’t note any familiar faces, he took her by the elbow.
“Nay,” he said quietly. “Come with me.”
She went with him, gladly. He was walking rather quickly and led her straight back to her apartment block. Before proceeding inside, however, he paused.
“Who is in the building?” he asked.
Christin instinctively glanced up at the gray-stoned building. “At this time of day, it is difficult to tell,” she said. “Since there is a great feast tonight, it is possible that Lady de Winter has the women in the kitchens to oversee the preparations. Why?”
“Because I must speak with you privately and this may be the only place that I can do it.”
Christin didn’t say another word. In fact, he sounded rather ominous so she was eager to get on with it. Opening the door, she led him inside, calling a few times to see if anyone was about, including Wynter. Receiving no reply, she bolted the entry door.
“My chamber is upstairs,” she said quietly.
He stopped her before she could head up the stairs. “Won’t they question the fact that you have locked the entry door?”
She shook her head. “Not when I explain that I was afraid of the king,” she said. “They will not question that. Just make sure you are not discovered. I may have to push you out the window to escape.”
He gave her a wry smirk and let her lead him up to her chamber on the second floor, the one with the view of both the keep and the garden. Admitting him inside, she closed the door quietly and bolted that one, too. Then, she faced him expectantly.
“Well?” she said. “What do you wish to speak of?”
They were quite alone, behind two locked doors, and Alexander found that he was having trouble focusing on anything else but her. Not The Marshal or her father or the king filled his mind. It had only been a few hours since he’d last seen her, but he felt as if it had been a million.
There was something about the woman that grew more beautiful each time he saw her.
Her dark hair, long and curling, her dark brows arched over eyes of a pale gray…
there was nothing about her that was unspectacular and he wanted this relationship to work so very badly.
He never knew how badly until this very moment.
He took a deep breath.
“Your father and I had a serious discussion when you left,” he said. “He was not happy, Cissy. Surely you know that.”
“I know,” she said, sobering. “Did he ruin things for me, Sherry?”
He looked at her, grinning. “Hardly,” he said.
“But he did bring up a few things about me that you must be aware of. I thought we would have time to discover one another, not give you an entire accounting of my life for the past twenty years all at once, but it seems that might not be the case. Before you and I proceed, there is something you must know about me.”
“Continue.”
“I used to have a harem.”
She cocked her head curiously. “A harem?”
“That means I had a group of women at my disposal,” he said.
“To fulfill my needs. When I returned home from The Levant, I took my time. I ended up at the Lateran Palace in Rome with the Holy Father. Whilst there, I provided a service for him. If he had an enemy, I would deal with them. If he wanted me to do something sly and deadly, I would do it. In return for this service, he provided me with a house of my own and twelve women.”
She scratched her head curiously. “They took care of your home?”
He tried not to grin at her surprising innocence in the matter. “Nay, sweetheart,” he said, putting his hands on her arms. “I am trying to tell you that these women were provided to me to take care of my needs. As a wife would take care of a husband.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what he meant. “Like a brothel?”
Quickly, he shook his head. “Nay, because they belonged only to me,” he said. Then, he sighed heavily. “I was unmarried. I was not betrothed. There was no one woman who had my loyalty. I took a few of these women to my bed because, sometimes, men have physical needs. Now do you understand?”
“Oh,” she said, an expression of hurt crossing her features even though she pretended otherwise. “They were… special to you?”
He shook his head. “Nay,” he said quietly. “I did not feel anything for them. They were simply possessions.”
“Is that what a woman is to you? A possession?”
“God, no,” he waved her off. “I am trying to be completely honest with you about my past by telling you something unsavory that your father brought up. But I will tell you what I told him – although I cannot undo the past, I can make a promise for the future. I will never disrespect you, I will always ensure you are safe and warm and happy, and I will be faithful to you for the rest of my life if you decide that I am the man you want. Upon my oath, I swear this.”