Disgusted that he was still here and had yet to be relieved of his station by his idiot brother, Valteri watched his men training in the list. The sound of clashing steel rang in his ears, making him yearn to leave this place far behind and yield to the familiar call of battle and war.
To what he knew best.
Blood. Gore. Entrails of his enemies on the ground at his feet.
That was home.
Not this rancid country he hated so much.
Battle was his mother. It was the only thing that had ever succored him.
But could he leave?
Nay.
Damn you, Will!
Months had gone by, and he was still trapped here. If he took off without permission, Will would see him hunted down like a dog. And while he was strong, not even he could fight off an entire army without help.
So here he remained.
Because he’d been stupid enough to believe, for one heartbeat, that family mattered.
What he should have remembered was that there was no worse fate for one such as he than domesticity.
No one could cage a wild animal. The beast inside him was salivating for freedom. It was snarling and howling more and more with every dawning sun, until he feared he’d go mad from the rage of being held back from the only comfort he knew.
Even though he’d routed the Saxon rebels as he’d promised his brother, and sent them to London, where they’d met their final fate under the executioner’s ax, William still refused to grant him a reprieve.
Now, he wished he’d been the one who’d lost his head.
Instead, Valteri was losing his mind. Bit by bit. Day by day. Especially since there were no rebels left to chase now. No scapegoats to vent his fury.
What few remained hid themselves from his wrath and sword, and for the last few weeks, peace had reigned in the valley of Ravenswood.
Damn it to hell.
Valteri despised peace with everything he had. The extra time it brought—time to think.
To remember a life that had begrudged him every breath he’d ever taken.
As if living, itself, wasn’t hell enough. Unlike the men and women around him, he had no purpose in this world.
Other than to make everyone who met him uncomfortable, and to fill their hearts with hatred toward him for doing nothing more than existing.
No one could so much as look at him without cringing or insulting him. With the exception of battle, he was unwelcomed everywhere he went.
Indeed, a leper was treated more humanely. At least with them, they were pitied.
He was demonspawn. Unworthy of anything except their scorn at worst and their avoidance at best.
For God’s sake, Will, let me go. He needed to find another war with which to occupy himself so that he had no time for thought, but William steadfastly refused to free him from his duties.
Bloody bastard.
“Milord?”
Valteri turned away from his men to see his squire running toward him. Barely tall enough to reach his shoulder, the dark-haired youth was fair enough in form to make several maids giggle as he passed them. Lucky for him and even luckier for Wace, the boy had no idea the fairer sex found him so appealing.
Yet.
Pity the poor fool the day Wace realized they were watching him with such interest.
All too soon, some lass would no doubt try and trap the boy with her wiles. Then his life would be an even bigger hell than it’d been when Valteri had found him.
Breathless, Wace reached his side. The blush of youthful exuberance covered his cheeks, mottling them to a bright pink that made his blue eyes all the brighter.
Valteri couldn’t remember ever feeling that excited about anything.
Not even his first battle.
’Course, he’d been praying the whole time for a fatal blow to end this miserable hell known as life.
Lucky him, he’d not only survived the ordeal, he’d been one of the heroes of the day. Praised for the fact that he’d fought bravely while the others who’d wanted to live had scampered away, trying to save their measly hides.
What irony that.
Sighing, he eyed his huffing squire. “Kitchen on fire?”
Winded, his squire bent over and wheezed. It took several deep breaths before Wace could finally respond. “The men you sent out scouting have returned. They found a woman in a field.”
So? ’Twas England. A shepherdess with her flock was as common as the dull, gray sky overhead. No one could pass a field anywhere on this miserable isle they didn’t spot a dozen such creatures. Why that would warrant a breathless, galloping squire, he couldn’t imagine.
Confused, Valteri scowled. “And a wench causes you to pant at—”
“Nay, milord. ’Tis no wench, but a lady!”
His frown deepened. That was a different tale. He couldn’t imagine a lady soiling her precious shoes with cow shit. “Where’s she from?”
“They know not, milord. Hence why they sent me to fetch you.”
What fresh madness was this?
Why bother him with a woman? Even a noble one?
He sighed heavily at the aggravation.
Judas’s hairy toes. His men were getting more incompetent every day.
He’d been right. Peace robbed a warrior of all sense.
Irritated by the interruption, Valteri ground his teeth and glared at his squire, who was never afraid of him for some insane reason.
Imbeciles, all. Could they not even take care of a simple lost woman without his direct supervision? Seriously? Were they really that afraid of him?
Growling deep in his throat, he headed toward the hall with Wace following after him like a dutiful puppy.
And as he walked, he couldn’t help wondering how his brother had ever managed to conquer England with the fools who fought in his army. Surely they could return one simple maid home to her family without disturbing him.
Was that really so much to ask?
After all, dealing with the fairer sex was not something he had much experience with, or tolerance for. Last thing he wanted was to hear her shrieking when she laid eyes upon him. Crossing herself like a frantic nun facing the devil.
Damning him for a birth he cursed as much as they did.
These scurrying wretches he passed on his way to the hall were bad enough, but at least they couldn’t look directly at him, as they feared a beating for it, given that they were servants and he their “noble-born” lord.
As if he’d ever done such to them or anyone else. But their cruelty to people like him was enough that they knew what they deserved, so they feared his retaliation now that he was grown and large enough to give back to them what they’d so unkindly given to him when he was a defenseless boy.
Which meant these creatures withheld their insults and scurried like roaches at his approach. And waited until after he’d passed them before they began crossing themselves, and whispering their rumors about his diabolical origins.
Noblewomen were never so kind or restrained.
Nay, they insulted him to his face.
He had yet to meet one he didn’t want to murder where she stood. He was certain this one would be no different.
Seething, Valteri pushed open the heavy wooden door of the hall and was met with the sickening odor of baking bread. His lip curling with disgust, he felt his stomach pitch at the stench of it. How he hated manors and castles, and everything they entailed. He’d spent too many years of his life inside places such as this, listening to the echoes of foul rumors that resounded off the whitewashed walls.
He wanted out of this damnable place! He was a warrior, not a lord. And no matter what William thought, he would never be tamed or saddled.
As Valteri approached the group of men gathered in the center of the hall, they shrank back in fear of his approach, reminding him of a group of cringing magpies.
Until he saw the lady, lying in their midst on a bench where the others must have placed her.
His anger dissipated instantly.
For the first time in years, Valteri hesitated. Deep, dark red cloth hugged the woman’s voluptuous body, spilling onto the floor like a puddle of blood as the sunlight cut across her features and highlighted them. Her flaxen hair lay atop part of the kirtle, its paleness contrasted by the dress’s richness. Never before had he seen a kirtle made in such a shade, nor hair the color of hers. They were so vibrant that they appeared to be living entities all their own.
A golden cross lay in the hollow of her throat, pulsing with each beat of her heart. Its shape glinted in the dying sunlight that still illuminated the room.
His hands suddenly clammy, Valteri wondered at the way his heart raced. He was far from the days of a callow youth, yet that was what he felt like as he stared at her. There was something about her that seemed ethereal. Untouchable. Like the first time he’d been alone with a woman.
He was as nervous now as he’d been for that first paid-for kiss. And that truly infuriated him.
What kind of fool am I?
Granted, it’d been the better part of five years or more since he’d last seen a noblewoman, but still … He shouldn’t be this nervous.
You’re just not used to seeing a woman not mired in pig shit and dressed in rags.
Aye, it was nothing more than that.
Wanting to prove it, he reached out and gently turned her face toward him.
The sight of her features struck him like a blow. She was stunning. Flawless. And he knew every line of those high cheekbones and that alabaster skin.
’Twas the face that haunted him from his dreams.
Gasping, he took a step back, releasing her. For once, he felt the need to cross himself, and he didn’t believe in such stupidity.
How can this be?
Sweat broke out on his forehead. Could he have conjured her? Was this some trick of the light?
A low gasp escaped her lips as her chest rose with a deep breath. His men stepped back in unison, some crossing themselves as if they feared her as much as they feared him.
That finally broke through his mental fog.
Superstitious fools!
Regaining control of himself and forcing away his initial shock, Valteri scoffed at their ridiculousness.
And his own. She was a woman.
Plain and simple.
No more. No less. How she’d infiltrated his dreams, he didn’t know, but he refused to believe for one moment that she had any more supernatural power than he did.
Indeed, too many years of people crossing themselves whenever they looked upon him had left him skeptical over the presence of demons and witches. Warlocks and elves, and other such nonsense.
He believed in nothing save his own sword arm.
Had there ever been a God, He’d abandoned him long ago. And so Valteri had chosen to return the favor.
Her long, dark lashes fluttered open, displaying a beautiful pair of deep blue eyes. Aye, the wench was as lovely as any he’d ever seen, and he could imagine how angry her lord must be over her loss. No doubt he was frantically searching everywhere for her.
A frown creased her brow and she sat up, rubbing her forehead as if an ache beat inside her skull. “Where am I?”
His body inflamed by the sound of her rich voice speaking flawless Norman French, Valteri stared at her. How had a Norman lady come to be stranded in the middle of Saxon lands?
And she was no doubt a lady. Her dress and manner could never belong to serf or merchant.
“You are in Ravenswood Hall, milady.” He waited for her to look at him and cringe in terror. It was what everyone did the first time they saw his mismatched eyes.
Most recoiled in horror. Some had held their hands up to shield themselves, as if terrified his very gaze upon them would mark them for the devil or cause them to burst into flames.
Others had spat at him. Insulted him and his parents. Truly, he couldn’t catalogue all the abuse he’d taken in his life for one accident of birth.
But instead, she turned toward him and met his gaze unflinchingly. “Do I know this place?”
It was his turn to frown. “Do you not know yourself?”
“Aye. I’m Ariel.”
“Then why did you ask—”
“But, I can’t remember aught else.” To his surprise, the terror in her eyes was not directed at him, but at some inner turmoil as she glanced about, then down at the floor. “There was a shadow.…” She looked up at him with a sad, vulnerable gaze, and a wave of protectiveness blasted away all the layers of hardness he’d erected around his heart. “A smelly shadow…”
Angered over the unexpected sensation, Valteri took another step back, unsure of himself.
Worse? He actually wanted to touch her.
No good could come of that. A woman such as this had a lord looking for her, no doubt. She belonged to her husband—was his most valuable property.
Given the curse that had been levied upon him on his birth, he knew better than to lay a single hand to her. There was no telling what her lord would do if he dared such an affront, and while he had no fear of any man, he didn’t want to start a war with his brother over some random woman.
He had enough problems in his life. There was no need in adding that.
Nay, he had to find her husband and remove her from here posthaste, before any more unfounded rumors began to spread.
“Is this my home? Are you my husband?” she whispered to him.
That unexpected question tore through him like a lance. For a moment, Valteri wished he could answer aye.
And what an odd thing that was. Never in his entire life had he ever wanted an attachment of any sort, especially not to a woman. He couldn’t imagine why he’d even think of wanting one now.
“Nay, milady. You were found in a field.”
More confused sadness darkened her eyes, and he wondered what memories plagued her.
Not that it mattered. She was no concern of his, and he had to make sure it stayed that way.
Valteri turned, calling to one of the serving women who watched on from the shadows. “Take the lady to my room and attend her needs.” He spoke in English so that she could understand him.
The crone nodded and moved to help Ariel rise.
Ariel looked at the woman and her face blanched. Like a cat, she hissed and recoiled from her.
Valteri had no time to process her actions before she scrambled from the bench and grabbed at his waist. Before he could react, she pulled his sword from the sheath at his side and stepped back.
Even more shockingly, she went after the old woman.
No one had ever dared touch him, not even when he was a child. That was startling enough. But what truly floored him was the skill she showed as she lunged at the crone with deadly intent.
He barely disarmed her before she sliced the old woman in twain. “What is wrong with you, milady?”
Her nostrils flaring, she tried to take the sword from his hand. “She means me harm!”
Her entire body shook, and beneath her fury, he saw panicked terror there. She believed what she said.
To his shock, she took his arm in her hands as he continued to hold his sword away from her. “Please, you must listen. She’s death!”
He’d never had a woman touch him in such a manner and he found it deeply disturbing.
“Why does she frighten you?” He looked from the top of her pale head to the face of the old crone, who appeared every bit as baffled as he was.
And yet …
He wouldn’t be so quick to judge. Not after all he’d seen and experienced. Too well, he knew the dual nature of people. How they could be loving and kind to those around them, and then lash out without mercy against innocent children.
Boys like him.
Kindhearted boys like Wace, who’d never done anything except try to please them.
For no reason whatsoever.
It was enough to drive anyone to violence.
Anyone to madness.
There had been a time when he’d been an innocent child who’d wanted nothing more than a mother’s love. A boy who had only wanted peace.
All he’d been given was pain and condemnation. Until he’d learned to strike the first blow and protect himself from their cruelty.
Nay, he wouldn’t judge this woman. Not until he knew all the facts.
More importantly, all the players.
“I may not remember myself, but I remember her! She wants me dead!”
The crone appeared so eerily calm and innocent that it set off his hackles. How could she remain such given the vicious attack that she’d almost suffered? The open hostility of a noblewoman who could order her death for no reason whatsoever?
That told him much, as he’d seen monsters like the crone in his past. Those who preyed on others and then played the innocent victim after they’d pushed their target too far.
“Nay, lord, I prithee for mercy. I would never harm her ladyship.” The crone spoke in English, letting him know that somehow she’d learned French enough to understand it, but not respond in it.
Ariel stiffened. “There’s nothing wrong with my mind! I can’t explain my feelings. But I know she means me harm. I know it!”
“I could never harm so fair an angel.”
Ariel scowled. “Angel,” she whispered. She looked up at him and all the agony in her eyes tore through him. “There’s something…” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes glazed as if she drifted back into her past.
“It’s all right.” Valteri resheathed his sword. “I’ve seen a number of men fall during battle after receiving a blow to the head. Many times they lose their sense for a brief time, but it always returns.”
The lady had probably been riding and thrown from her horse. Or mayhap someone had been chasing her. It would explain why she had no escort or mount.
When she fell, she must have hit her head and rattled her brain.
He looked at the crone, his gaze stern. “Until milady remembers herself, I want you to stay away from her.”
The crone nodded and withdrew.
Valteri turned to Ariel and held his hand out for her to take it. “Come, milady, I’ll show you to your room.”
Her warm, soft hand enclosed the emptiness of his palm, soothing his rough calluses. She looked at him as if he were her savior, something no one had ever done before, and it did unimaginable things to him.
Kindness and desire were alien concepts for someone like him. Tenderness even more so.
And that expression on her face …
Valteri knew better than to imagine the thoughts that suddenly leapt into his mind. Thoughts of her supple body in his arms while he kissed those perfect lips, and lost himself to her warmth. Aye, those images were raw and they left a biting hunger in his soul that made him crave an ice-cold bath.
It was all kinds of wrong, and he knew it.
He closed his eyes and released her hand as his breathing turned ragged. He had to banish any such thoughts.
She was a decent lady and he was a monster. Whatever he did, he must always remember that.
He belonged on a battlefield. She needed to return to her husband and the comforts of a welcoming home.
Leading Ariel past the raised table, he entered the small foyer and pushed open a door. He stepped back, waiting for her to enter his chambers.
She looked up at him with a shy smile that sent even more blood to his nether regions.
Damn them both for it.
Valteri clenched his teeth. How could he burn so for something he could never have? The monks were right. He was damned and cursed. There was no other reason for her to be here, tempting him like this.
Something, somewhere, surely hated his guts.
Without a word, she walked into his room—because the image of her in his chambers helped the fire in his loins not even a little bit.
She wandered around, touching various items as if she’d never seen such a place before.
How strange …
Because he traveled so much, he kept very little for himself. Especially since he was so eager to leave this world, there was no need to collect anything more than the bare necessities he needed to survive. A razor and strop. Comb. An extra buckle. Truly the only thing remarkable about his belongings was the fact that they were so common and so few.
Yet she picked up his buckle to finger it, then placed it back beside his comb before she stared at it curiously.
Where had she come from to be so enthralled over his meager items?
When she stepped to the window, she gave a small squeak. “Oh my!” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. “What are you doing out there?”
Scowling, Valteri moved forward to see what had captured her attention.
Who was she talking to?
Again, he doubted her sanity.
Until she reached outside his window to grab a tiny black mass of recognizable fur that wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Come inside, little one,” she said softly. “’Tis a chill in the air I’m sure you don’t need.”
Valteri paused as she turned around with his kitten held tenderly in her arms. He stared in awe of her gentle hands stroking the soft black fur while Cecile nuzzled against her shoulder.
He was ever at a loss with that poor animal that had much more curiosity than sense. To this day, he wasn’t sure if the bag he’d found her in on the side of the road was something she’d climbed into by accident, or if someone had put her in it in an effort to kill her.
All he’d known was that she’d been on the brink of starvation and her pitiful cries had touched him as he struggled to bring her here and see her fed and in much better health. He still bore scars on his hand where the terrified thing had clawed him in terror, until she realized that he meant her no harm.
Valteri moved to stand closer to Ariel. Mayhap a little too close given the licentious thoughts in his mind where she was concerned. “Are you not afraid?” Most people shied away from the wee beastie as if it were as cursed as he was.
Ariel looked up at him with a frown. “Afraid of a little kitten? Nay, why should I be?”
He just stared at her. Ever since he’d saved the tiny cockeyed creature, everyone had run from his unorthodox pet in fear and suspicion. Many had called her his familiar and swore that it was proof he was the devil’s son.
Ariel kissed the kitten and stroked its ears. “Do you have a name?”
“Cecile.”
“What a peculiar name for a cat.”
He shrugged. “I’ve always had a fondness for it.” Though why, he couldn’t say. “And she doesn’t seem to mind it.”
Ariel smiled and once more he felt his control wane under the beauty of her features, the happy glint beneath the sapphire hue. When she looked back at him, his stomach wrenched as if someone had struck a fierce blow just below his heart. “And what of you, milord. Do you have a name?”
“Valteri.” He waited for the familiar mockery to darken her gaze, given that he was named for a demon lord. One who was known for his ferocity and command of legions of demons. The brothers in the monastery where he’d been tortured as a boy had proclaimed that his namesake had begun every day by eating the entrails of unbaptized infants.
Why his mother had chosen to name him such, he could only imagine.
Her smile widened. “It suits you.”
His gut twisted. Her face may not show it, but she did mock him and his cursed looks. Why else would she say such a thing?
With a gasp, she set Cecile on the bed, then took a step forward with her hand raised as if to touch him. “I meant no offense to you, milord.”
He moved away from her reach, his lips curled. “You cannot offend me, milady. ’Twould seem fate itself has already done so.”
And his bitchtress mother when she’d saddled him with a moniker that was second only to Lucifer’s when it came to unholy deeds that were used to frighten small children and make grown men tremble.
His anger raging inside, he turned around and left her, taking care to slam the door behind him to vent some of his fury before he abused a more sentient creature. He was done with this world.
Damn them all.
And damn God above for giving him eyes of two different colors to be feared by everyone who looked upon him.
Ariel stepped forward, then stopped as Cecile meowed. She looked to the kitten. “You think I should leave him alone?”
Cecile cocked her head slightly before she rushed from the bed and collided with the small chest under the window.
Deciding Cecile might be right about Valteri and his mood, Ariel picked the kitten up and helped her find her food bowl.
The poor little creature’s eyes were so badly crossed, it couldn’t walk straight.
Stroking the kitten’s neck, she watched Cecile eat the carefully cubed meat left on the floor. What a pair the two of them made—Cecile couldn’t find what she needed any more than Ariel could.
She sighed in complete frustration. Why couldn’t she remember anything? She knew her name. How to talk … how to do everything except recall her past.
How can I not know who am I?
Where had she come from?
How had she gotten here?
Why was she alone?
Nothing made sense, and honestly, it was terrifying.
The fleeting images that kept passing before her eyes were impossible. She saw hundreds of strange people and places that seemed completely unrelated, and yet how could that be?
Some of them didn’t even appear to be of this earth.
“Why do I know how to use a sword?”
She could make no sense of it. Still, she knew deep inside that if she could just find her way back to her memory it would all make sense again. She would know who she was and why she was here.
Why she had such disturbing images and thoughts …
After finishing her meal, Cecile set about cleaning herself.
Unable to rest while she was so confused and unsure, Ariel pushed herself up from the floor and walked to the window, where she saw Valteri crossing the yard, dressed in his chain mail and black surcoat emblazoned with a per bar sinister argent and gules and a lion salient or—his coat of arms. The lion and colors seemed highly fitting for such a proud warrior.
Yet he stood out from the other knights around him. And not just because he chose to wear his blond hair long while theirs was sheared to their ears.
It was his air of barely leashed fury that set him apart. That aura that said he was one step away from gutting anyone who came near him. His rage was so potent that it sizzled in the air around him, letting everyone know that he was like a caged beast, ready to attack.
He was ferocious and wild. A creature of absolute beauty, who stood a full head taller than those around him. His features were finely carved as if by a master sculptor. Never had she seen a better-looking man. Nor one who bled such a contradiction of violence and compassion.
She smiled at his confident stride, then looked back at Cecile. A cross-eyed kitten was a peculiar companion for such a fierce warrior. Yet somehow it suited him.
A strange warmth flooded her breast at the mere thought of Valteri. When she’d first opened her eyes and seen his concern, she’d been certain that she belonged to him. That this was her home.
Even now, she had a strange sense of belonging here.
To him.
And she couldn’t explain it.
But she definitely understood wanting him. He was the most spectacular man she’d ever beheld. His long, white-blond hair reminded her of the brightest snow-covered field.
And his eyes …
One the bright green of the deepest sea. The other, the rich brown of ground cinnamon. While they were a bit disconcerting at first, they were so unusual as to be absolutely riveting. Haunting in their complete opposition to one another and each one filled with intelligence and torment.
They reminded her of someone.…
Closing her eyes, she struggled to remember who. In the back of her mind was a tiny nugget of a memory.
Of another man.
One who was extremely familiar to her, and Valteri reminded her of this shadow man.
She growled in frustration. The memory was so close and yet so vague. “Why can’t I recall this?”
But all she saw was darkness. And a faint tinge of …
The sensation was gone.
Ariel sighed wearily. “Who are you?”
Was that man family?
Or foe?
Was he responsible for her being here?
A knock sounded on the door, startling her.
“Enter.” Clearing her throat, she quickly pushed those thoughts away.
Slowly, the door opened to reveal a youth around the age of fifteen summers with short dark hair and a beaming smile. He shifted the platter in his arms and kicked the door closed with his foot. “Good day, milady.”
She returned his smile. “Good day, my young lord.”
As he neared her, the platter tilted dangerously to the left.
With a gasp, Ariel helped him to right it before all the dishes spilled to the floor.
He looked at her with a shy smile, his cheeks as red as the fading sun. Warm honesty, intelligence, and friendship glowed in the bright blue depths of his eyes, and in that instant, she formed a strong liking for the boy.
“Thank you, milady. I appreciate your assistance. It seems I’m ever plagued with clumsiness.” He set the platter on the table. “Lord Valteri thought you might be hungry.”
Her belly rumbled instantly—as if it had ears. “I suppose I am.”
He removed the sliced cheese and bread and placed them before her, then quickly poured a goblet of wine. “Name is Wace.” He propped the platter against the wall. “Inept squire to Lord Valteri. At least that’s what he tells me most days.” He winked at her. “If you have any needs—”
“Lord Valteri’s squire?” she repeated, interrupting him.
He nodded.
She picked up a piece of cheese as she considered that. “Served him long, have you?”
Suspicion darkened his eyes and he watched her like a mother hare guarding her young from a circling kestrel. “Long enough to know that milord welcomes no questions be asked of a personal nature. Such queries are oft met with a severe tongue-lashing. Which, truth be told, can be worse than an actual beating. Milord is quite the master of harsh witticisms that can cut soul deep.”
She sucked her breath in. “My deepest apologies, good squire. I had no idea he’d been so hard on you.”
“Oh, not me, milady. He restrains himself for some reason where I’m concerned. He’s only a beast if I wake him too early in the morn, and then ’tis never personal. Rather, he grunts and growls like a feral bear coming out of hibernation. But for others … His words are like a head injury.…”
“How so?”
“Hilarious when they happen to another. Quite painful when you’re the recipient.”
She wasn’t quite sure what to make of that as she chewed her cheese and swallowed it. So, Ariel smiled at the lad to reassure him. “Well, I mean your lord no harm, good Wace. I only wanted to know why his own name bothers him.”
“Ah! Then you mustn’t have heard of Valterius the Godless.” He spoke in a low tone for her alone.
She shook her head. “Should I have?”
Eyes wide, he pulled a chair up next to her and took a seat. Then, he leaned forward on his elbows as if to impart a great secret. “You are definitely one of the few who hasn’t. Even when we came to England, it seemed that most everyone we met knew him on sight. Even I was amazed that his reputation had spread so far and wide.”
“Why would his fame not inspire your joy? I thought all boys wanted to serve well-known masters.”
Deep sadness filled his eyes. “He’s a good man, milady.” Wace looked around the room as if afraid someone might overhear him. “Behind his back, they whisper horrible, ungodly things about my lord. Things I know to be malicious lies.”
“Such as?”
“That he’s Lucifer’s bastard.”
She laughed aloud at the very thought. “Lucifer’s bastard, indeed. He doesn’t look a thing like him.”
A strange light darkened Wace’s eyes. He shifted nervously. “You speak as if you know what Lucifer would look like.”
Chills crept along Ariel’s spine as an image of a beautiful fair-haired man popped into her mind. One who was charming and familiar.
But that was insanity.
So she laughed it off, even though her chills remained. “How could I know such? But my guess would be that he’s dark and sinister, with the face of a gargoyle. Nowhere near as beautiful as our lord, Valteri.”
And still something inside told her that she was lying.
Wace’s humor returned. “Aye, and has pointed ears, no doubt.”
“No doubt. And a forked tongue, like a serpent.”
“Fangs, too.”
That seemed to placate the boy, who remained to keep her company while she ate.
Once she finished, Wace took her to the bower room, where a number of other women were gathered to embroider and sew.
“Milord thought that if you attended your regular duties it might help you to regain your memory.”
Ariel scowled as she glanced around the unfamiliar room, and at the women who sat about and gossiped. There was absolutely nothing familiar about it.
At all.
Wace smiled. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Terrified, she wanted to call him back.
But he shut the door with a solid thud that sounded more like a death knell.
The women paused to look at her in unison.
Ariel swallowed hard as she made her way to a seat.
Still, they continued to stare at her as if she had three heads. It was the most disconcerting thing she’d ever endured.
At least that was what she thought.
Why can’t I remember?
She bit back a curse.
“I’m Edyth.”
Ariel smiled at the young woman next to her. “Ariel.”
That made the woman beam a warm smile back. She handed her a small box.
Scowling, Ariel opened it to find a set of needles like the women were using. She picked one up, but was completely mystified as to how to use it.
She rolled it between her fingers. There was nothing familiar about this at all.
Nothing.
“Are you all right, Ariel?”
“How do you use this?”
Several of the girls laughed at her.
“Do you not know how to sew, silly? Or are you just pretending so that you can put your work off on us?”
Edyth tsked at her. “Don’t mock her, Margaret.”
Ariel bit her lip as she glanced to Edyth. “Sew what?”
“Whatever you want. Clothes. Tapestries. Repair things.”
That only made her frown more. “I don’t understand.”
With the patience of a saint, Edyth held up the cloth and needle in her hand and showed her how to use it. “You take the needle and thread it.”
Ariel gasped as she pricked her finger. “Is it supposed to be so sharp?”
Edyth scowled. “Have you never touched one before?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You can’t be serious!” Margaret gasped.
Another girl snorted. “What is wrong with you?”
Valteri was heading back toward the keep when he heard what sounded like the screams of a thousand furies coming for him.
For a moment, he thought the keep might be on fire.
A number of women ran past him.
“She’s insane!”
It wasn’t until he sprinted into the building to find Ariel being pulled away by a girl named Edyth that he began to comprehend what had happened.
“You cannot do such a thing, milady!”
“I don’t understand why not. Someone needs to teach the beast lessons on behavior.”
“Edyth?”
She froze at the sound of his call. Releasing Ariel, she quickly curtsied. “Milord.”
“What happened?”
“Your lady walloped Margaret.”
He turned at the sound of Wace’s voice. “Pardon?”
Wace nodded. “They had an altercation.”
Edyth bit her lip. “She punched her like a man, milord. Gave her a blackened eye and everything.”
He’d be angry but for the fact that he knew that shrew’s tongue and had seen her mock and belittle enough innocent people that he’d had the urge to slap the woman a few times himself.
Lucky for Margaret, he made it his policy to never strike anyone smaller or weaker, and particularly children or women. No matter how vexing or insulting they were.
“Any particular reason for it?”
“She was laughing at the lady for not knowing how to sew.”
He scowled at Edyth’s words, then met Ariel’s unrepentant gaze. “You punched her for laughing at you?”
“Nay, milord. I would never hit anyone for so petty a crime.”
“Then why, pray tell?”
Edyth turned red in her face. “Margaret slapped the embroidery from my hands, milord. Then said that an idiot shouldn’t teach an incompetent imbecile.”
“And you punched her?”
“Nay.”
Completely confused, he arched a brow at both of them. “At what point did you hit her?”
“After she insulted Edyth, and Edyth, upset at her words, went for more thread. Her actions startled your kitten, milord. Cecile then skittered out and the wretch kicked her. Hard.”
Edyth nodded. “That was when milady socked her one and saved the cat.”
“I see.” He cleared his throat to cover his amusement. “And the cat? Where is she now?”
Ariel opened the pouch that was attached to her girdle to show him the small black ball that was slumbering inside. “Safe from any harm.”
“Margaret, not so much.” Edyth giggled under her breath.
Ariel lifted her chin. “I won’t apologize for my actions.”
“No one has asked that of you.”
“Thank you, milord.” She cuddled the bag in her arms and headed for her chambers. “If you’ll excuse me, I shall put Cecile where no one can harm her and see that she has milk and meat.”
Valteri stood in total confusion as he watched her leave them. He had no idea what he should do. No doubt Margaret and her husband would expect some sort of discipline for Ariel’s assault.
If she were a man, he’d know how to respond.
What did one do when women fought?
“Milord?”
He turned toward Edyth. “Aye?”
“Please don’t harm Lady Ariel for her actions. Margaret was being terribly rude to her.”
“Fear not. I have no quarrel with what she’s done. I was only trying to think of how to smooth this over with Margaret’s husband.”
Hesitating, Edyth walked toward him. “If I might speak out of turn, milord?”
“Please. Speak freely.”
“Elrich is terrified of you. Should he seek any form of redress, simply scowl and growl, and he’ll flee immediately.”
He arched a brow at her words. “You think so?”
“Know so. Truth be told I would have done so myself until now.”
That stunned him. “And why this sudden courage?”
“Lady Ariel told me you were a fair man, milord. And given her kindness and heart, I trust her judgment.” With those words spoken, she rushed off as if embarrassed by her candor.
Or maybe she was scared, after all.
It was hard for him to tell the difference.
Either way, ’twas the longest discussion he’d had with anyone outside of his horse in years.
How strange.
Stranger still was his sudden need to go after Ariel and check on her. He wanted to make sure that she was all right after her ordeal.
He found her in his room, on the floor with Cecile. In spite of her altercation, she seemed fine.
She looked up at him with that innocent gaze that stirred his body more than he liked. “Is something amiss?”
“Nay … Aye. You remembered nothing about sewing?”
Sighing wearily, Ariel sat up and shook her head. “Nothing at all.” She pushed herself to her feet. “I swear I’ve never held a needle in my life. I didn’t even know what it was called until Edyth told me.”
How could that be? What lady wouldn’t have been taught to sew?
Even a peasant woman would have those skills.
“Yet you remember using other things?”
She nodded.
“Such as?”
Her gaze skimmed his body in a way that hardened him uncomfortably until she stopped on his sword. “That.”
He laughed, even though he remained fully alert over the fact that his desire for her made it rather awkward.
She didn’t share his amusement, at all.
That sobered him even more than his erection. “You’re serious.”
“Very much so. I know how to use a sword, a knife, and a shield. Even a staff. Why do you doubt me?”
Valteri gave her a peeved grimace. “Because it’s not exactly a skill a father teaches his daughter.”
Ariel’s gaze turned cocky. “Care to try me?”
Normally, he’d have laughed her off. But for some reason he was curious, especially after her actions against Margaret and the crone.
Just how much skill did she have?
Before he could think better of it, he led her outside to the storage shed where they kept the practice swords his men and their squires used for the training list. Made of wood and padded, they kept the squires from harming each other during their training.
He handed her one. “Show me this skill of which you speak.”
Ariel didn’t miss the doubt in Valteri’s mismatched eyes or his tone. He thought he was humoring her.
But unlike the needle, she knew exactly how to grip a sword.
In fact, this felt comfortable. It was like being at home.
For the first time since waking up, something felt right and natural to her.
She held the sword up to salute him, then lunged.
Grabbing another practice sword, he barely parried her strike.
By her third blow, the smile was gone from his face and he was no longer so cocksure. “You are indeed well trained, milady.”
“I told you.” She twirled and actually caught a blow to his arm. Had they been using real swords that would have wounded him.
Valteri gasped at the impossible. No one had struck a blow to him in practice or battle in years. “I’m impressed.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
And before she could move, he flipped her sword from her hands and disarmed her. “But I can’t have you show me up in front of my men.”
Laughing, she curtsied to him. “Understood, milord.”
To his surprise, he heard applause. He turned his head to see Wace watching them.
“That was incredible, milady! Your skill is unmatched!”
“Thank you, kind Wace.”
Growling at his squire, Valteri returned the swords to their holders. “The lady is full of surprises.”
“Aye, she is.”
If only he could figure out why a noblewoman had been so well trained for war. It made no sense.
But her smile was infectious. “If you’ll excuse me, milord? I should like to clean up.”
“Of course. Wace? Would you see her back to her room?”
“Aye, milord.”
Valteri watched them leave while he tried to solve this latest puzzle.
Just who was this woman and how had she come to fall into his hands? If she had this amount of skill, how much did the man who trained her?
Not that he feared any man. But this was war. Could she have been a spy or assassin sent after him?
That made the most sense. He’d never suspect a woman of such treachery. What better tool for the Saxons to use against their enemies.
One they’d never see coming.
Which meant she was either feigning her memory loss, or it was real and had she not lost her memory, she’d have killed him by now.
That sent a chill over him and finally brought his desire back under control.
What if all this was nothing more than a game she played? People were rotten. No one knew that better than he. To their core center, they conspired and beguiled for selfish reasons, all the while smiling at the face of their victims.
Aye, he’d watch her, and if she held such treachery in her heart, he’d end her. That was the one thing his bitter childhood had taught him. People weren’t tools. No one deserved to be used and discarded.
Or abused for entertainment.
As beautiful as she was, he would protect his squire. He would protect his brother.
“A demon I may be, but I am never disloyal.”