‘Lothar?’
Juliana propped herself up on one elbow, staring at the bed with bleary-eyed confusion until she remembered that her husband had gone.
Husband. She said the word aloud, testing its strangeness on her tongue. It wasn’t a word she’d ever been fond of, though now it seemed to have lost some of its sting. She looked around the chamber, but all trace of him seemed to be gone. All of his clothing, all the remains of their midnight meal. The only new object was a cup by the bed filled to the brim with something steaming hot and delicious-smelling, like honey mixed with ale and spices.
Eagerly, she picked it up and took a sip, smiling as the warmth reached her stomach. Whoever had brought it must have woken her as they left, though she was glad of the disruption. Whatever her new husband wanted, she had no intention of staying in bed all day. Her mind felt clearer than it had in a long time, as if all the things Lothar had told her the previous night had laid her worries, if not to rest, then to bed anyway. She had a feeling it would take a lot longer to come to terms with everything that had happened, but because of him, she’d made a start. Despite everything—his attachment to Matilda and her reluctance to be married—he’d been thoughtful and caring and had seemed to know exactly what to say. Maybe being married to him wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Maybe they could be friends. She actually felt eager to see him again.
She gulped down the rest of the ale and climbed out of bed, splashing her face with water before opening her coffer and exchanging her old tunic for a forest-green surcote trimmed with brown fur. If the cold draught blowing in through the window shutters was anything to go by, she was going to need it. Then she picked up a comb and dragged the prongs through the tangled bird’s nest of her hair, wincing at every knot. It took ten long, painful minutes, but finally it was done. She left it loose, tucking the long waves neatly away beneath her headdress, feeling strangely pleased with herself. There. She was ready. Now she just had to find her husband.
She made her way impatiently down the stairs and into the hall, but there was no sign of him, only a couple of maids chattering and laughing together as they stoked up the hearth.
Maids? She stopped dead in surprise. She’d sent all the maids away months ago. What were they doing there now?
‘Alys? Maud?’ She recognised both of the women at once.
They turned and smiled in unison, dropping into formal curtsies as she hastened forward.
‘It’s so good to see you again.’ She hugged both of them in turn.
‘You, too, my lady. We’ve been so worried about you.’ Alys, the older and taller of the two, spoke first. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’ She burst into a smile, vaguely surprised by her own answer. It was true. She was all right. Despite everything that had happened, she really was. It was almost unbelievable when she thought about it. ‘But what are you doing here?’
‘Ulf came to fetch us this morning. He said he was acting on your husband’s orders.’ The two maids exchanged glances. ‘We wish you all happiness, my lady.’
‘Thank you.’ She felt her cheeks turn ruddy. Doubtless they’d been as shocked by the news of her marriage as she’d been herself. ‘Where is Loth—my husband?’
‘Outside, my lady.’
‘I see.’ She tried to adopt a sober expression. ‘In that case, excuse me, but I need to speak with him.’
She fled for the door, her blush deepening as she heard the maids start to chatter behind her. She’d have to get used to that, she supposed, at least until Lothar left again and things could get back to normal.
She scooped up a cloak from the guardroom and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders before stepping outside. The air was cold, but the sky was a bright, forget-me-not-blue dotted with fluffy white clouds. She felt strangely invigorated, as if she were looking at the world in a whole different light. From her vantage point at the top of the keep steps, she could see that the sky wasn’t the only thing to have changed either. All the old inhabitants of the castle seemed to have returned. Farriers, blacksmiths, fletchers, even their children scampering amidst the buildings. It didn’t feel like a fortress any more. It felt like a bustling home again.
‘Good morning, Juliana.’
She looked down towards the sound of Lothar’s voice. She’d been so busy looking around that she hadn’t noticed him approach, but now she found him standing directly below the keep steps, freshly bathed and shaved, and yet somehow even more ruggedly handsome than she remembered.
‘Good morning.’ She gestured around the bailey with a swell of happiness. ‘So this is what you had to arrange?’
‘I thought it was time things got back to normal.’ His expression was guarded, as if he wasn’t sure what her reaction would be. ‘I would have waited to discuss it with you, but I didn’t know how long you’d need to sleep.’
‘It’s a lovely surprise.’ She gave him a heartfelt smile. ‘I feel much better this morning, thank you.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it. Though it might still be best if—’
‘No!’ She threw her hands up in protest. ‘If you tell me to go to bed one more time, I’ll throw the mattress out of the window!’
‘That window?’
He jerked his head up at the small opening and she folded her arms defiantly.
‘I’ll find a way.’
‘I believe you.’ There was a glint of amusement in his eye. ‘As you wish then, my lady. In that case, what would you like to do today?’
‘Today...’ she looked up at the sky and sighed wistfully ‘...I’d like to get out.’
‘Out?’
‘Yes. Apart from that day we met on the drawbridge, I haven’t been outside these walls in five months.’
‘Five months?’ He gave a low whistle. ‘I didn’t think of that. I would have run mad.’
‘Perhaps I almost did.’ She started down the steps. ‘But today I’d like to get out, maybe go for a ride...if that’s allowed?’
‘Why wouldn’t it be? You’re in charge, remember?’
She stopped on the second step up so that her face was level to his. ‘Just checking.’
‘Still don’t trust me?’
‘I’m starting to.’
‘Good. Because, with your permission, I’d like to come with you.’
‘To protect me?’ She smiled knowingly, but he didn’t respond.
‘Partly, though you can take some of your own men if you prefer.’
‘Because you on your own is the same as a few of my men.’ She let out a gurgle of laughter. Apparently she couldn’t stop smiling today. ‘You think very highly of yourself.’
‘The Empress once said I was like one of her deerhounds. A good attack dog.’
‘That doesn’t sound like much of a compliment.’
He grimaced. ‘You might be right, though I chose to believe it meant I was good at my job.’
‘Maybe she meant you were loyal. To her anyway.’
‘Maybe.’ He arched an eyebrow, as if the comment surprised him. ‘In any case, I’d like to get a closer look at the land.’
‘All right. You can come.’ She jumped down the last two steps enthusiastically. ‘Husband.’
She walked off briskly towards the stables, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder as she did so. Why had she said that? Partly because he’d called her wife earlier, partly because she’d wanted to see how he would react—though, judging by the expression of surprise on his face, he didn’t know how to. But he’d been right when he’d said they were stuck in this situation together. They ought to try to make the best of it. And he was her husband, after all—she was only stating a fact. It was just a word. It didn’t mean anything else. Even if she was starting to like it.
* * *
An hour later she reined in her palfrey, stopping on a ridge that overlooked a deep valley to the east. Together, they’d galloped all along the backbone of the hills, the wind rushing past her ears so fast that her headdress now lay flat on her shoulders, surrounded by a mane of hair as wild and tangled as it had ever been. This was one of her favourite views. As she looked out at the horizon, it was hard to imagine they were part of a country at war with itself. It looked peaceful, the way it once had been—the way it hopefully would be again.
‘You’re a good rider.’ Lothar cantered up beside her.
‘I’m out of practice.’ She reached forward to pat her palfrey’s neck. ‘It’s one of the few things women are allowed to do that I’m actually good at.’ She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘Or do you object?’
He grinned. ‘I’m not so easily offended. I’ve seen a woman’s legs before.’
‘What?’
She looked down, mortified to find that the lower part of her skirt had hitched on to the back of her saddle, exposing her legs all the way from her knees downwards. It must have happened when they were galloping. If it weren’t for her woollen stockings he’d be able to see more than just the outline.
‘You could have told me!’ She wrenched the material down indignantly.
‘I just did. And it wasn’t easy to catch up. Out of practice or not, you’re faster than I am.’
She tossed her head, embarrassment vying with elation. When he smiled like that, she didn’t care how much he saw of her.
‘When are you leaving?’ She dragged her thoughts back on to safer territory.
‘What do you mean?’ His voice sounded edgier suddenly.
‘You said you were going back to the Empress.’
‘Oh...that.’ A muscle twitched in his jaw, small but unmistakable. ‘Not for a while. She doesn’t need me until the spring. You’re stuck with me until then, I’m afraid.’
‘As long as you don’t mind.’
‘Why would I?’
‘No particular reason.’
She tried to keep her expression calm as her heart gave a small leap. He sounded tense, but he didn’t seem particularly upset about being separated from the Empress.
‘Will you tell me what’s happening out there?’ She gestured into the distance. ‘In the rest of England, I mean.’
‘Not much. Not yet anyway.’
‘Was the Empress very upset about the Earl of Gloucester?’
‘Extremely.’
‘It must have helped to see you.’
‘Must it? She wanted to discuss her plans.’
‘For ending the war?’ She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
‘Yes. In a manner of speaking.’
‘What?’ She twisted around in her saddle, seized with a rush of hope.
‘Her son Henry’s coming from Normandy.’
‘Oh.’ Her spirits sank again. ‘I thought you meant it was over.’
‘It might be. Most of the Barons have had enough of fighting. More and more are making pacts to stay neutral.’
‘So you mean we’re just going to stay like this? With battle lines drawn, but no fighting either? It’s not war or peace.’
‘No, but Stephen’s getting older and Henry’s a young man. He’s a charismatic leader with all the makings of a great king. Given a choice, I believe most of the Barons could be persuaded to side with him.’
‘Because he’s a man?’
‘Not just because of it, but it might tip the scales in his favour. Enough for Stephen to come to a compromise anyway.’ He paused, as if uncertain about whether or not to tell her something and then going ahead anyway. ‘Matilda wants him to sign a treaty, ceding the throne to Henry on his death.’
‘A treaty?’ She repeated the word thoughtfully. ‘A piece of paper to end a war.’
‘Better than a battle.’
‘True, but then who wins? If Stephen keeps the crown, but agrees to let Matilda’s son succeed him, then both of them win and both of them lose. It makes everything that’s happened seem such a waste.’
‘War’s always a waste.’
‘I thought soldiers liked war?’
‘Did your father?’
‘No,’ she conceded the point readily. ‘He said that soldiers were a necessary evil, to protect the innocent as much as for fighting battles.’
‘He was right.’
She looked at him askance. He’d always seemed like such a born warrior that she’d never considered that he might not want to fight.
‘Don’t you like fighting?’
‘There was a time when I did, when it made me feel as if I were moving on from the past. Now...’ He gave her an appraising look. ‘You seem to have a calming effect on me.’
‘Me?’ She bit her lip and his eyes followed the movement, flickering with something that made her stomach tighten convulsively.
‘Most of the time.’ He looked away again quickly.
She swallowed. ‘You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the most terrifying-looking man I’d ever seen.’
To her surprise, he laughed. ‘And you said that being compared to a dog wasn’t a compliment?’
‘I wasn’t trying to compliment you. I just wanted to say that I was wrong. You’re not so terrifying after all.’
‘Not at all?’ He sounded disappointed.
‘Occasionally. When you threatened Sir Guian, for example.’ She gave him a pointed look. ‘I never thanked you for protecting me from him. I should have.’
‘You never told me what he did to you either.’
‘No.’ She held his gaze evenly. ‘I didn’t.’
‘Will you tell me now?’
She sucked in a breath. Would she? Could she?
‘It wasn’t what he did. It was what he tried to do. I was foolish enough to agree to a private meeting.’
‘You said he didn’t hurt you.’ His voice deepened menacingly.
‘He didn’t, not as much as I hurt him anyway. He didn’t count on my being able to defend myself.’
‘When I see him again...’
‘You can leave him alone, just like I asked you to.’ She reached out impulsively, placing a hand on his jaw to ease the tension there. She didn’t want to see the look of fury on his face again. ‘Besides, I think you did a good enough job of scaring him last time. Once he finds out that we’re married, he’ll be quaking in his boots.’
His jaw unclenched finally beneath her fingertips, though his gaze never left hers. ‘You’re right. I saw him in Devizes and he ran away like a startled hare. The next day I heard he’d ridden back to his estates.’
‘Then that’s all the revenge I need. I only want peace from now on.’
He took a few deep breaths before agreeing. ‘Very well.’
‘Thank you.’ She pulled her hand away, hardly able to believe her own daring in touching him. What must he think of her? Another part of her didn’t care. The sun was past its zenith and the raw winter air stung her throat, but it felt good to be outside and free. She felt almost alive again. She was even enjoying her husband’s company. He wasn’t so terrifying after all, and he was staying, until the spring anyway. No matter how he felt about Matilda, he was her husband and he’d come back to protect her. That was all that mattered for now—and suddenly she knew just how to thank him.
‘Come on.’ She twitched on her reins. ‘I need to show you something.’
‘Now? We ought to be getting back.’
‘It won’t take long.’ She was already galloping away. ‘You’ll be glad of it, I promise!’