Ariel had just entered the great hall when she saw a number of men fleeing for their lives, each cursing her lord and protector.
“He’s the devil’s spawn!”
“Lucifer’s own!”
“God save us all!”
They practically tripped over themselves as they ran past her for the door.
Amused and befuddled, she headed in the direction they’d come from, which turned out to be Valteri’s chamber office. A large room that was sparsely furnished with uncomfortable, overturned chairs and one large desk where he stood, leaning on it with clenched fists.
But what made her raise a brow was the dagger that was firmly lodged in the door, right at eye level as she entered.
Ariel took a moment to pry the dagger loose. “Bad day or bad aim?”
“Bit of both,” he said churlishly. “And unless you wish to be the next unfortunate target of my wrath, you might wish to take heed and run as well.”
She set the dagger on the desk, near his hand, and glanced over the stack of papers while he moved to pick up the chairs and right them. “You’ll find I’m made of sterner stock. Now that I’ve seen your precision, I’m not so easily frightened.” Wrinkling her nose playfully at him, she skimmed his ledgers. “So what has milord so cross?”
He let out a bearish sigh. “Nothing.”
Cocking her head, she noted the letters of complaint that were in three separate stacks. “Are the peasants revolting?”
Valteri scoffed as he righted the last chair and returned to her side. “I wish. That I could handle.”
“Knocking people about isn’t always the answer, milord.”
“Says the woman who punched another earlier?”
“I was trying to save your cat.”
“And I’m trying to save my sanity.”
She glanced about the room where he’d left the chairs, far away from his desk. “Judging from the condition of the furniture upon my arrival, I would say I had much more success with the cat.”
Valteri laughed and then froze at the unfamiliar sound. It was the first time in his life he could ever remember doing such a thing.
“So, milord, I ask again, what has you so flustered?”
It galled him to admit his shortcomings to anyone, yet for some reason he’d rather admit them to her than another. “I can’t make any sense of these damnable accounts.” He handed her the ledger that his steward had been trying to explain before he’d threatened to strangle the bastard.
And meant it.
“These are the rents that are owed that I’m supposed to review, and then I’m supposed to pay taxes on them.” He grimaced as she read over the figures. “And before you say anything else, aye, I can read.”
She looked up at him with an innocent stare. “Why would I assume otherwise?”
“Because I’m a mercenary.”
“And?”
That caught him off guard, as virtually everyone, including his brother, thought him stupid and ill-educated. “I’m demonspawn.”
She snorted at that. “What kind of demon wouldn’t know how to read?”
“You’re not funny.”
“Nay, but it’s true. Never known a demon yet that was illiterate.” Ariel wasn’t sure which of them was more shocked by her words.
Valteri or her.
However, the most shocking part for her was the fact that she didn’t think it was a joke.
Just like knowing how to use a sword, she had a bad feeling that she had an intimate knowledge of demons as well. That somehow, somewhere, she’d interacted with them.
But that couldn’t be.
And such thoughts and words were dangerous. She knew that even though she had no idea how or where she’d acquired that knowledge.
She let out a nervous, fake laugh as she shoved playfully at his arm. “I’m jesting, milord! Just kidding. How would I know the literacy rate among demons? Rather, it just seems to me that they’d have to be fairly literate in order to be so maniacal. Wouldn’t you think?”
“Sure.” But his tone didn’t match that word.
What is wrong with me?
Biting her lip, she looked back down at the ledger and his steward’s awkward scribbles. “Um … well then … what would be the problem?”
“I can’t do arithmetic.”
That stunned her. She looked up sharply to catch the embarrassment in his mismatched gaze.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone!”
“Not a soul, milord. Why would I?”
Valteri let out a sigh of relief. “I mean it, Ariel. It’s humiliating enough.”
“I would never do something like that. Besides, I should think you could easily do the math.”
“How so?”
“Think of it like battle. I’m sure you do the mental calculations every time you step out and see how many men you’re facing and how many you have to subtract to win.”
“That’s different.”
She shook her head. “It’s the same. Only not as bloody.” Taking a piece of paper and his quill, she showed him. “Just think of it like this. You have twenty men here who are coming down the hill.” She wrote out the number in sharp, straight scratches. “You have to remove eight to win. How many would be left?”
“A dozen.”
“Correct. There’s your arithmetic, milord.”
“Huh.” Valteri stood there, amazed by her. No one had ever been able to simplify it like that before so that he could comprehend those numbers when applied to anything other than battle. How easy she made it seem. “But it’s not quite that simple.”
“That really is the gist of it.” She made marks on the paper. “Think of them as soldiers to add or subtract or multiply for your army, and it’ll help you keep your records straight.”
Valteri stared at the pages that were slowly beginning to make sense to him as an idea struck. Probably not one of his better ones, but still …
Certainly not his worst, by far.
Ariel was a lot more attractive than his surly steward who was terrified of him. Her company far more pleasing.
And she didn’t look at him as if he were shite on the bottom of her shoes.
“Would you care to help me do this?”
She gave him a pert stare. “Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether or not there will be cutlery involved.” Smiling, she held up the dagger and wiggled it impishly between her fingers.
In spite of himself, he laughed again. “Somehow, milady, I doubt that you’ll motivate me to such violence.”
Indeed, violence was the last thing on his mind as he stood so close to her that he could smell the sweet scent of jasmine coming off her hair.
Rather, the images in his mind were much more tender and inappropriate. Especially with the way the light caught against her pale skin and made it appear so very succulent and tempting.
Assassin she might be, but right then, he’d have gladly allowed her to cut his treacherous heart from his chest.
She set the dagger aside and looked doubtful. “I don’t know. It didn’t take long for me to try the patience of Margaret, and Wace says that it takes much less to try yours.”
He snorted. “Wace would try the patience of Job.”
“I doubt that. He seems like a very sweet boy.”
“Easy for you to say, milady. You don’t bear the scars of his ineptitude. He trips more than he doesn’t. Drops anything he attempts to carry, usually right on top of me. And I cannot begin to catalogue the number of times he’s forgotten to tighten my saddle properly. If it wasn’t for the fact that I know he’s just that inattentive, I’d think he was trying to kill me, and I don’t think I own a tunic that isn’t stained from where he’s dropped or spilled something on me. Usually hot and near scalding. Never mind the fact that he loses anything he’s charged with tending.”
“Then why do you tolerate him as your squire?”
Ariel watched as Valteri grew quiet and sober over her question.
How strange. He’d been jovial as he accounted for Wace’s shortcomings and now …
Her gaze went to the scar on his hand. A tiny imperfection that made her think of Cecile.
A cockeyed kitten he also protected.
Clarity struck her.
“Because you’re afraid another master would abuse him for his shortcomings, aren’t you?”
When he spoke, his tone was dry and flat. “The world’s full of assholes, milady.”
But Valteri wasn’t one of them. At least not that she’d seen. He might raise his voice and growl when someone irritated him.
But he’d never raise his fist. Not unless someone else was about to strike the first blow.
Nor was he insulting to others.
Because now that she thought about it, she’d seen Wace drop things on him and he had yet to say a word about it to the boy.
Clearing his throat, he jerked his chin toward his ledgers. “Do we have an accord about the accounting?”
“We do. I shall help you.”
“Thank you.” Valteri pulled the chair out for her to take a seat.
As she did so, her hair brushed against his knuckles. Valteri had to bite back a curse as his entire body erupted at the innocent contact.
But even worse was the overwhelming desire he had to bury his hand deep in those thick, flaxen tresses and trail his lips over the succulent curve of her neck.
What is wrong with you, man?
He’d gone daft.
Beyond daft. Yet he could barely drag his thoughts away from how much he wanted to carry her off and make love to her for the rest of the day.
She’d scream if you even tried.
That reality jolted him away from his thoughts. As did the truth behind it.
Aye, she would. No woman had ever welcomed him to her bed. Not even those who followed after camps for battle. Even they cringed when he did nothing more than kiss them after he’d paid them for much more.
It was why he’d finally settled on celibacy. There was no need to keep wasting his money on prostitutes when all he ever ended up with was a begrudged kiss. He’d finally decided to save his money and just take care of his physical needs himself.
But the craving he felt for Ariel …
It was dangerous and disturbing.
Clearing his throat, he pulled a chair over for himself and handed her the ledger he’d been working with before he’d lost patience with the steward.
“I’m supposed to figure five percent for the tax. How does milady equate that to battle? I lop a hand off each soldier?”
Ariel laughed at his earnest tone. “More like an eye or toenail.” She smiled at him. “So, who should we blind first?”
The edges of his mouth lifted as if he wanted to smile and was making an effort not to. “I say the steward. He was a weaselly little bastard.”
In spite of her common sense, she was enchanted by the light in his eyes. He was incredibly handsome.
Breathtakingly so.
Her heart pounding, she was tempted to reach out and touch his hand.
Don’t you dare! For all you know, you’re married!
It was true. She could have a husband and children searching for her.
Yet that didn’t feel right. Or seem right. When she’d looked around at the children and others, she had the same detached sensation with them that she’d experienced with the sewing.
As if she’d never been around them before and had no knowledge of them.
However, Valteri’s company felt right. Logical.
“Are you sure we’ve never met?”
He paused to glance at her. “Aye. Why do you ask?”
“I can’t explain it, but there’s something so familiar about you.” Especially his eyes. She felt as if she’d known him in the past. Had stared into those eyes a number of times.
Even the timbre of his voice felt …
Comfortable.
Familiar.
Certain mannerisms were so recognizable.
It didn’t make sense. And at the same time, the image she had of him wasn’t exactly him.
Why can’t I see it clearly?
Who was the man he reminded her of? What was her mind trying to tell her? She had a feeling it was extremely important, and yet no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t bring it into focus.
Of course, it would help if she wasn’t so keenly attuned to Valteri. To the rich, heady scent of him and the way his muscled arm brushed against hers. The power of him was enchanting, and the sound of his voice …
She could listen to it all day. There was something comforting that drew her toward him against all common sense. She’d never felt like this.
Or have you?
“Are you all right, milady?”
She smiled at him. “Fine.”
He inclined his head to her then reached for his goblet.
And sighed heavily at the fact that it was empty.
“Something amiss, milord?”
“My errant squire strikes again.” With a wry twist of his lips, he pushed his chair back and stood. “I shall get us more wine while we work.”
Ariel attempted to focus on the ledger, but as he walked past her, her gaze was caught by his striking form. Dark and light. The dichotomy wasn’t lost on her.
Just as he reached the door, it clattered open and Wace rushed in.
With a platter.
Wine and food poured all over poor Valteri, who stood back with his jaw clenched.
“My lord! I-I-I—”
Valteri held his hand up to silence Wace’s sputtering. “It’s fine, Wace. I had begun to fear that I might actually make it through the week without wearing something greasy and wet. Now that I’m soiled, I shall be able to put the matter out of my mind.” He clapped the boy on his shoulder. “Please see that the lady is served on the table and not her lap while I see about finding something a little less…” He grimaced. “Balmy.”
And with that, he stepped past the boy to leave them.
Ariel was stunned by his tolerance of something she knew had to be hot and painful.
Wace sighed heavily as he bent down to clean up the mess.
Ariel went to help, but he shooed her away. “Please, milady. I’m embarrassed enough.”
“Sorry.”
He glanced up with a frown. “Why do you apologize to me?”
She wasn’t sure. “I feel awful. For both of you.”
Wace shook his head as he cleaned up. “I’d feel better if Lord Valteri would at least yell at me for my clumsiness.”
“Why? As fair Cato said, patience is a virtue.”
“And cleanliness is next to godliness, but for some reason, I can’t seem to master that, either.”
She tsked at him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever met who craved violence as punishment.”
“Only because I know that I deserve a beating for my ineptitude.” He winced. “I try so hard and I swear every time I get near my lord, I do something stupid.”
“Ever think it might be because you fear doing something that it makes you nervous?”
He paused to look up at her. “What do you mean?”
“Only that you stopped being clumsy once we talked and met.”
“True.”
She picked up one of the goblets. “I think it’s your fear of having an accident that causes it.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except for this one. This one was definitely Lord Valteri’s fault.”
He laughed. “How I wish it were true. I should have been paying attention when I came through the door.” Sighing, Wace took the goblet from her hand. “Thank you, milady.”
“For what?”
“Making me feel better. I don’t really remember my mother. She died before I learned to walk. But your kindness is what I’d like to think she had.”
“I’m sure of it.”
With a winsome smile at her, he picked up his platter and quickly took off with a great deal more care.
Ariel frowned at the floor. It was perfect. No sign remained of the mess whatsoever.
Not even a drop.
But the pattern in the floor reminded her of …
I’m sorry about your mother.
She scowled as she heard a faint voice in her mind. Deep and resonant.
Ariel wanted to shout in frustration. Why wouldn’t it return?
What had happened to her mother?
And where was the rest of her family? Did she have a brother or sister?
“Father.” She saw an image of a light-haired man. Fierce. Invincible.
Aye, she had a father.
Ariel cursed as the image vanished before she could figure out his name.
“I’m going to remember.…”
She just hoped the return of her memory wasn’t something bad. Perhaps there was a reason her mind had flushed it all away. Was it trying to protect her?
How would she know?
With a sigh of her own, she rose, more determined than ever to solve this mystery.
Days went by as Ariel worked with Valteri, much to the chagrin of his former steward. While the man claimed to detest his lord, he detested and resented her presence even more.
She was everything he wanted to be. Fast. Accurate. And she never tried the patience of Valteri. Yet there was a wall between them and she wasn’t sure why. It was as if something about her made him nervous. Ludicrous, to be sure.
Still …
Ariel sensed his disquiet as they worked on his latest accounting.
Valteri shook his head. “Is it just me, or does my brother seem to be taxing the air people breathe?”
“How so?”
He gestured at the ledger in her hands. “This is more than just an accounting of his new holdings. I swear, the man is wanting a fee for everything.”
His outrage quirked her humor. “Does he not need it to pay his mercenaries?”
She’d meant to tease him. Instead, his humor grew dark. “You resent us?”
“Why should I?”
Valteri’s gut tightened at her innocence that suddenly seemed feigned. “We conquered you.”
She set her quill aside to cock a brow at him. “You conquered a country, milord. No man has yet conquered me. Nor shall he.”
“What of your husband?”
She let out a deep sigh. “I have no memory of such. All I can recall is a faint image of a man I believe to be my father.”
“And?” He sensed she was hiding something from him.
Biting her lip, she glanced away. “You’ll think me mad.”
Nay. He still thought of her as a spy or assassin. “I won’t think you mad.”
“I see a man who reminds me of you.”
That made his gut tighten. Could she have met his unknown father?
To this day, his mother refused to breathe a word of his father’s identity.
I swore an oath for secrecy and I will abide by it! Herleva of Falaise was a bold bitch who dropped bastards the way some maids dropped ribbons at tournaments for champions. Her steadfast refusal was why so many believed him the son of the devil.
Why else would she refuse when she’d named the father of all his half siblings?
His personal belief was that his father was so low of birth, she was terrified to let anyone know that she’d screwed a stableman.
Or peasant.
More like a priest. It would explain why he was so cursed.
If he believed in such things.
“Any idea who this man might be?”
Ariel shook her head. “I can only catch a glimpse of him and then he’s gone.”
“Then how do I remind you of him?”
She let out a small huff. “It’s hard to explain. I just…” Her eyes were awash with grief.
Maybe I’m wrong. Her plight seemed so genuine. Perhaps she wasn’t what he thought.
Don’t be stupid. The history of man was written by the hands of the women who’d betrayed them. The hands of friends who’d plunged a dagger in the back the moment someone let down their guard.
All of this could be an act.
What if it isn’t?
He didn’t dare take that chance. “I hope you remember something soon.”
She nodded. “What of you, milord? You never speak of your past. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d forgotten it.”
He laughed bitterly. “I wish,” he mumbled under his breath. With a sigh, he did his best to blot the pain of memories he really didn’t want—he would give anything to have her memory lapse. “I survived it. There’s nothing more to say.”
“But what of your parents? Brothers and sisters. I know the king is your brother. Do you have any others?”
He scoffed at the thought. “Not that I claim. Odo came to England with us to conquer this land. Pity that bastard didn’t fall into the Channel on our crossing.”
Ariel arched a brow at his acrimony. “Why do you hate him so?”
“He’s a bishop and an ass. Not even Will really likes him.” Valteri took a sip of wine as he remembered some of his brother’s insults that had forced Will to separate them before he throttled the little weasel. “As for the others, I don’t really know them at all. Robert is the Count of Mortain. My sister Emma is the Viscountess of Avranches, and Arletta is the Lady de la Ferté-Macé. But as I said, they are strangers to me.”
“Do they know you at all?”
“Only by name and reputation. I met Robert one time at a tournament when I knocked him off his horse.” He gave her an unrepentant smile. “After that humiliation, he had no use for me, but several choice words. As for my sisters, I wouldn’t know them if they were standing in front of me.”
“I’m sorry.” Ariel felt his pain at their neglect even though he spoke in a deadpan tone.
“I’m not. Given the drama I’ve suffered by allowing Will into my life, I’m glad to know nothing of theirs.”
She laughed. “You’re terrible!”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I only speak the truth.”
“And your parents? Where are they?”
“My mother married the Viscount of Conteville, who died a few months back.”
She scowled at that. “I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but don’t waste it. My mother has been celebrating his death since it happened. I’m told she married him for his title alone, and is now happy to be a widow, especially given that her eldest son has become the king of England.”
That made sense, she supposed. “So you stay in contact with her?”
“Nay. She’s never so much as visited me since I was whelped from her loins. I only know what Will tells me.”
“And your father?”
A sinister darkness came over him. “The devil? I know nothing of him.”
She snorted. “Valteri, please. You must know something of your father.”
“Only that he dishonored my mother and fled. She refuses to speak a word of him, and I know nothing other than the monastery where I was raised after she dumped me on their less than caring shoulders.”
So much pain. She could feel it as if it were her own. “Why didn’t you join the order where you were raised?”
His nostrils flared. “Do you know the reason Will locked me here?”
She shook her head.
“His fear that if I ever lay eyes upon that place I’ll raze it to the ground and evoke the wrath of God against him.”
“Again, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m the monster they made me, and if I weren’t I’d have been skewered long ago. Trust me, milady. The monks did me a service. Had they not raised me with their all-out hatred, I’d have never survived the scorn of everyone else.” With those words spoken, he got up and left the room.
Ariel sat there, torn between going after him and knowing that her presence wouldn’t soothe him. He was a hard man. But given what little he’d shared with her, she understood why.
Wace had told her that he never spoke to others. She was an exception, and she valued that.
And as every day passed, and she witnessed more of his kindness when he had no reason to give it to anyone, she valued it all the more. Honestly? She liked him a great deal in spite of his prickly nature.
A lily among the thorns.
It was the best way to describe him. Yet with every day that passed, she knew this couldn’t last. As Valteri was so quick to point out, there was most likely someone searching for her.
But who?
Valteri paused outside as he saw the sun setting. Strangely beautiful, it reminded him of Ariel. A quiet sheen of color across a dismal landscape. That was her.
Maybe her past is as tragic as yours and that’s why she’s chosen to not remember.
It was a thought, and would explain much. If he had a chance to forget, even for a day, he’d gladly take it.
And still his doubts and suspicions plagued him. She seemed too sweet to be real.
Too sincere.
Having known no kindness, he wasn’t sure what to do with hers. It left him unprepared and unsure.
Every day she was here, he grew more attracted to her.
Don’t be stupid. Wife and hearth had never been his destiny. She was a conquered prize, and such creatures were even more dangerous than others.
Let down your guard and you’ll have a knife in your back. That had been the only thing in his life that he could trust in. People were treacherous. They were snakes.
And yet he sensed the same vulnerability in her that he’d found in Wace.
Maybe she had been as abused as the lad. Though how anyone could harm so fair a beauty he’d never understand. The same way they beat down a child.
Aye. There were soulless assholes aplenty who preyed on any and everyone around them. He’d known more than his share of those animals.
Wincing, he wished he knew the truth of Ariel. Because every day she remained was one more where he was falling under her spell.
If she didn’t leave soon, she just might be the death of him.