Lothar took one look at the crowded hall and fought the urge to start shouting at the top of his lungs.
Sir Guian’s men were lounging on and around the trestle tables in varying degrees of inebriation, the worst disciplined group of soldiers he’d ever laid eyes on. They’d been no help in securing the castle, though his own men had surpassed themselves, carrying in fresh provisions, scrubbing floors, laying fresh rushes and replenishing the wood stores. It was a marked improvement, as if a gust of wind had blown through the bailey, blowing away all trace of the siege and making it fit for purpose again. In a better temper, he might have felt satisfied. As it was, he wanted to pick up the nearest table and hurl it against the wall, Sir Guian’s soldiers along with it.
He shouldn’t be there. That one thought had dominated his thoughts all day. He ought to be halfway back to Devizes by now, back by the Empress’s side where he belonged. If what Lady Juliana had murmured that morning was true and Stephen’s forces were really heading back into Herefordshire, then he ought to report it himself, not simply send a messenger. Instead he was wasting his time in a ramshackle castle in the middle of nowhere, guarding a woman who’d deceived, drugged and imprisoned him, all because, for some inexplicable reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave!
He glanced towards the stairwell that led to the private chambers above, nodding discreetly to the two soldiers he’d stationed there as guards—one to detain anyone who attempted to get past, the other to fetch him. Judging by the fact that neither had moved, he could only assume that Lady Juliana was still sleeping upstairs. His body stirred at the thought, though the memory of what he’d almost done in the bailey that morning was enough to banish the feeling completely. The leering expression on Sir Guian’s face had turned his suspicions into crystal-clear certainties. The fact that Lady Juliana obviously hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened between her and the Baron had only made matters worse. Lothar’s imagination had run riot, making the red mist descend even faster and more forcefully than usual. He hadn’t lost control of himself to such an extent for years, but he’d been about to do something definitely not in the Empress’s best interests, until Lady Juliana herself had stepped between them. She’d urged him to calm down, her green eyes boring deep into his until he did. How had she done it? Usually when he lost his temper, someone was bound to get hurt, yet she’d managed to bring him back to himself.
Not that he’d thanked her for it. He’d ordered her to bed instead, ignoring her look of outrage as she’d stomped away, muttering a string of surprisingly imaginative insults. He didn’t think he’d ever seen any woman, the Empress included, ever look or sound more furious, but he’d needed to put some distance between them. She’d needed some sleep, that had been obvious, and he’d needed to calm down and work out what the hell had just happened.
After taking the whole day to clear his head, he was no closer to finding the answer. Whatever power she had over him, whether to lure him inside a castle and hold him there, or to calm his temper, it wasn’t something he’d ever come across before. He didn’t know how to feel about that either.
He climbed the dais to the high table and muttered an oath. Now that he finally felt calm enough to confront Sir Guian it seemed that he’d waited too long. The Baron was already slouched in one of the large wooden chairs, an empty cup dangling from one hand as he looked around the room with bleary, red-rimmed eyes.
Damn it. He took a seat at the opposite end of the table, scowling fiercely until one of his men appeared with a trencher and some ale.
‘Have the castle garrison been fed?’ He practically barked out the question.
‘Yes, sir, just a small amount as you ordered.’
‘Good. They can have bigger portions tomorrow.’
‘What about Lady Juliana, sir? Shall I bring her a trencher?’
‘Mmm?’ The very mention of her name set his nerves on edge. ‘Yes, when she wakes up.’
‘She’s here now, sir.’
‘What?’ He jerked his head up, surprised to find her already mounting the steps to the high table beside him, still dressed in the same brown tunic she’d been wearing when they’d met. He was starting to wonder if she had any other clothes.
‘Lady Juliana.’ He pulled out a neighbouring chair, surprised by a feeling of eagerness. ‘Are you feeling well rested?’
‘Rested enough.’
She sat down without looking at him and he sighed.
‘I see you haven’t forgiven me yet then.’
‘Why would I?’ She shot him a venomous look. ‘If I were a man, you would never have humiliated me like that.’
‘If you were a man, you would have been clapped in chains and held for ransom. Would you have preferred that?’
‘More than being insulted, yes!’
‘Then I apologise. If I’d known you would have preferred a dungeon, then I could have obliged, but I did what was necessary at the time.’
‘It was necessary to send me to bed?’
‘Yes. You’d just surrendered the castle and your men needed to know Sir Guian was in command. Remaining downstairs would only have confused matters.’
She looked slightly mollified. ‘You could have explained that at the time.’
‘I could have, but I thought anger might keep you awake long enough to reach your chamber. You looked like you were about to collapse.’ His gaze narrowed suspiciously. ‘You still do.’
‘I look no such thing and you’re the last person who ought to criticise anyone else’s temper!’
He made a wry face. It was a fair enough comment, he supposed, though he wasn’t used to such forthright honesty. Not many people dared to criticise his behaviour, especially his somewhat unstable temper regarding certain subjects. He wasn’t accustomed to criticism, or to explaining himself either. He never had to, except to the Empress, but Lady Juliana seemed to have no fear of him. Paradoxically her defiance only added to her appeal. He wouldn’t have thought he would like it, but judging by the way that his body was responding again, he most definitely did.
‘You’re right.’ He inclined his head. ‘I lost control earlier. It won’t happen again.’
‘Good.’ She gave him an arch look, then gestured disdainfully towards a particularly rowdy group of soldiers. ‘I see you’re making yourselves at home.’
‘Some of us are.’
‘If you don’t approve of their behaviour, then why don’t you stop them?’
‘They’re not my men. I’m not in command.’
She peered down the length of the table. ‘Sir Guian doesn’t seem in a fit state to do anything.’
‘Then I’d call that an improvement, wouldn’t you?’ He watched her face as one of his soldiers placed a fresh trencher in front of her. ‘Hungry?’
‘Ravenous.’ She leaned forward eagerly, breathing in the aroma before favouring the man with a wide smile. ‘It smells delicious. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, my lady.’
Lothar watched his soldier depart, seized with an irrational surge of jealousy. She’d never smiled at him like that, as if she truly meant it, not even when she’d been pretending to seduce him—and she’d spent most of the time since glaring at him.
‘Better than siege rations?’
‘I never want to eat stockfish again in my life.’ She picked up a piece of cheese and then paused with it halfway to her mouth. ‘Have my men eaten?’
‘Of course.’
‘Where are they?’
‘We’ve set up tents for them in the bailey.’
‘Tents?’
‘The keep and stables are full and the storerooms are full of Sir Guian’s supplies.’
‘What about your men? Are they going to billet here with Sir Guian’s?’
‘No, they’re in tents, too. Now eat.’ He nudged the trencher closer towards her. ‘Questions later.’
She looked faintly rebellious for a moment, then seemed to change her mind, tucking into the food with relish.
‘Slow down,’ he reprimanded her. ‘You shouldn’t eat too quickly after a diet of stockfish.’
‘I know.’
‘You’ll make yourself sick.’
‘Probably.’
‘Lady Juliana...’
She put down the piece of chicken she was holding with a sigh, licking the juice off her fingers with such enthusiasm that he had to look away quickly.
‘You know, you give a lot of orders for a man who says he’s not in command.’
‘That was advice.’
‘Good. Then I can ignore it.’
She gave an exaggerated smile and then continued eating with gusto, leaning back in her seat and giving a satisfied sigh as she popped the last sweetmeat into her mouth.
‘Is there any more?’
‘Not for you. You shouldn’t eat too much either.’
‘More advice?’
‘As you wish.’ He sighed and gestured to one of his soldiers. ‘Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
‘I won’t.’ She pursed her lips with the air of a person who’d just won an argument. ‘So why are your men sleeping outside?’
‘Because they prefer to.’ He threw a pointed look around the hall. ‘I can’t say that I blame them. In any case, this is Sir Guian’s command. It makes sense for his men to billet here.’
‘Sir Guian’s command?’ She repeated the words mockingly. ‘Whenever I looked, you were the one giving orders.’
‘Whenever you looked?’ He put down his ale with a thud. ‘You were supposed to be sleeping.’
‘I was some of the time, but I had to make sure my men were being looked after. Surely you didn’t expect me just to forget about them?’
He cocked an eyebrow. He knew a lot of barons who would have done just that.
‘And are you satisfied with their treatment?’
She waited until a fresh trencher was set in front of her before answering.
‘You sent them to bathe in the river.’
‘Yes.’ He wondered what she was getting at. ‘They needed a wash. Their clothes, too.’
‘I know. It was thoughtful of you. I just...’
‘Didn’t expect me to think of it?’ He finished the thought for her. ‘They’re not prisoners, my lady. I told you that.’
‘I know. Thank you.’
‘Thank you?’ He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.
‘Yes! I can say thank you!’
‘So it seems.’
He saw her grit her teeth as if she were trying to control her temper.
‘Thank you for keeping your word, too. About the terms of surrender, I mean.’
‘Did you think that I wouldn’t? I always do what I say, my lady.’
‘So do I—or I try to anyway. That’s why I didn’t want to surrender. I made a promise to the King. It wasn’t easy to break.’
He nodded solemnly. He could understand that. He’d made his own promise a long time ago, to a woman who’d taken him under her wing when he’d had nowhere else to go. A promise that had taken him away from his homeland and into a foreign war that seemed to have little hope of ever reaching a conclusion, though even then he’d never once thought of reneging. He could hardly blame Lady Juliana for feeling the same way. If anything, it made him feel closer to her... He clenched his jaw. That was the last thing he needed.
‘There’s no shame in surrender, my lady. Half the castles in England have surrendered and been recaptured at some point during the last ten years. Stephen himself surrendered at Lincoln. He’ll understand why you did, too.’
‘I hope so.’
She twisted her head suddenly, distracted by a commotion in the direction of the stairwell. He followed her gaze, annoyed to see a group of Sir Guian’s soldiers arguing with his guards.
‘Don’t you think they’ve had enough to drink?’ Her voice sounded tense. ‘There’s nothing left in the cellars.’
‘My men have orders not to let anyone through. They won’t get past.’
The taut line of her jaw relaxed slightly, though her face still looked anxious.
‘Speaking of surrender...’ she seemed to notice him watching her suddenly ‘...has the Empress ever done so?’
‘Has Matilda ever surrendered?’ He gave a shout of laughter. ‘No. She doesn’t believe in the word.’
‘So there’s no shame in it for me, but there is for her?’
‘It’s different.’
‘Why? She’s fighting for her home just like I am.’
‘She’s fighting to reclaim her country and fulfil her father’s wishes.’
She winced as he said the word father and he berated himself for his own tactlessness. ‘I didn’t mean—’
‘Perhaps if her father had known what would happen, he wouldn’t have wished it,’ she interrupted before he could apologise. ‘Perhaps if he’d known how much suffering it would cause, he would have given the crown to Stephen.’
‘Perhaps, though from what I’ve heard, Henry wasn’t a man who tolerated his wishes being thwarted.’
‘No.’ Her expression of defiance faltered. ‘Perhaps not. My father said he was a strong ruler and Matilda takes after him.’
‘She does.’
She gave him a sharp, sideways look. ‘I heard a rumour that she was almost captured at Oxford.’
‘That’s true.’
‘It is? What happened?’
‘The King’s forces caught us by surprise and surrounded the town. The siege lasted three months, but eventually there was no choice. The garrison had to surrender. Matilda escaped over the walls the night before.’
‘Wasn’t there a moat?’
‘It was frozen. She crossed the ice, then walked six miles through the snow to reach safety.’
‘What about her guards? How could so many men escape without being noticed?’
‘There were only three of us, few enough to pass unseen, and we wore white cloaks so we wouldn’t be noticed.’
‘We?’
He shrugged, wondering why he was telling her any of this. He rarely told anyone anything. Taciturn was an understatement for him—even Matilda said so. He’d spoken more in the past twenty-four hours than he had for weeks, though that was probably only because she reminded him so much of her father, with the same intent manner of listening, as if she were absorbing every word. He’d only met William Danville on a handful of occasions, but he’d still counted him as a friend. Fighting side by side had a way of speeding up friendships. The older man’s keen intelligence and perceptiveness had led him to reveal more about his past than he had to anyone besides the Empress. Apparently the daughter had the same gift for drawing information out of him. On the other hand, he’d never found William quite so intriguing, nor felt such a compelling desire to move any closer towards him. He’d certainly never wanted to touch him, to reach under the table and stroke his leg...
‘The Empress must value you very highly.’ She tipped her head to one side like a curious bird, mercifully oblivious to the direction of his thoughts.
‘She trusts me. I’ve served her for most of my life, since I was seven years old.’
‘What about your family?’
‘I don’t have one. I was living on the streets of Bamberg, a city in Francia, scavenging to survive when the Empress found me.’
‘What happened?’
‘She was visiting Bamberg with her husband, Emperor Heinrich. I was sitting on the roadside when her carriage went by, but she saw and sent a soldier over to fetch me. She was still young herself, but I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.’
‘My father said that, too.’ Her voice sounded wistful. ‘Then what happened?’
‘She asked me a few questions. I told her the truth and she asked if I’d like to come and serve her. I’ve been at her side almost every day since. She saved me. She knows I’d give my life to protect her if necessary.’
‘So you’ve been a soldier since you were seven?’
‘At first I was more of an errand boy. My talents in that direction became obvious later on.’
He grinned, but she didn’t react, studying him intently as if she were trying to make sense of something.
‘So you serve her because she saved you, not because she was Empress of Austria?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘And now she wants to be Queen of England?’
‘Yes.’ He drew his brows together. What was she implying?
‘So your being here has nothing to do with England itself. What about your home? Did you want to leave? Don’t you care about England at all?’
He stared back at her in surprise. What kind of questions were those? What did caring have to do with anything?
‘I swore an oath to the Empress. My home is with her, just as my duty is to her.’
‘So not to England.’
‘When she becomes Queen of England, they’ll be the same thing.’
‘If she becomes Queen.’ Lady Juliana leaned back in her chair, popping another sweetmeat into her mouth with a cynical expression. ‘My father said she never would be.’