The door was opened by a young serving girl. Freckles and fear covered her face. She tried to curtsy to him but only half completed the formal greeting when she got a true look at his face. She let out a cry and went running across the large chamber.
The room was alight with candles. A wooden altar covered with a white cloth stood in front of the hearth. On the floor in front of the altar were several leather-padded kneelers.
He saw the nun at once. She was kneeling, her head bowed in prayer, her hands folded below the cross she wore on a thin leather thong around her neck.
She was dressed in white, from the long veil covering her hair to her white shoes. Royce stood inside the doorway and waited for her to acknowledge him. Because there was no chalice on the altar, he didn't genuflect.
The serving girl timidly touched the nun's slender shoulder, bent down, and whispered in her ear. 'Sister Danielle, the Norman leader has arrived. Do we surrender now?'
That question seemed so ridiculous that Royce almost smiled. He motioned to Ingelram to replace his sword, then walked farther into the room. Two servants stood together near the fur-covered window across the room. One held a baby in her arms. The infant was diligently chewing on his fists.
Royce's attention returned to the nun. He could only see her profile from his position. She finally made the sign of the cross, a signal her prayers were finished, then gracefully gained her feet. As soon as she stood up, the baby let out a lusty cry and reached out to her.
The nun motioned the dark-haired servant forward and took the baby into her arms. She kissed the top of his head and turned to walk toward Royce.
He still hadn't gotten a good look at her face because she kept her head bowed, but he found himself pleasantly affected by her gentle manners and her whisper-soft voice as she crooned to the baby. The infant's head was covered with a sprinkling of white-blond hair that literally stood up on end, giving him a comical look. The baby cuddled contentedly against the nun and continued to suckle on his fists. He made loud, slurping sounds, interrupted only by an occasional yawn.
Danielle stopped when she was just a foot or two away from Royce. The top of her head only reached his shoulders, and he was thinking to himself how very fragile and vulnerable she appeared to be.
Then she lifted her gaze and stared into his eyes, and he couldn't seem to think at all.
She was exquisite. God's truth, she had the face of an angel. Her skin was flawless. Her eyes fascinated him. They were the most appealing shade of blue. Royce imagined that he was looking at a goddess who'd come to earth just to tantalize him. Her light brown eyebrows were perfectly sculptured into soft arches, her nose was wonderfully straight, and her mouth was full, rosy, and damned appealing.
Royce found himself physically reacting to the woman and was immediately disgusted with himself. His sudden lack of discipline was appalling to him. The indrawn breath he heard told him Ingelram was experiencing the same reaction to the beautiful woman. Royce turned to glare at his vassal before looking at the nun again.
Danielle was a bride of the sacred church, for God's sake, and not booty to be lusted after. Like his overlord, William of Normandy, Royce honored the church and protected the clergy whenever possible.
He let out a long sigh. 'Who does this child belong to?' he asked in an attempt to regain his unholy thoughts about the woman.
'The baby belongs to Clarise,' she answered in a husky voice he found incredibly arousing. She motioned to the dark-haired servant in the shadows. The woman immediately took a step forward. 'Clarise has been a faithful servant for many years. Her son's name is Ulric.'
She looked down at the infant and saw that he was gnawing on her cross. She removed it before looking back up at Royce.
They stared at each other a long silent minute. She began to rub Ulric's shoulders in a circular motion, but kept her gaze fully directed on Royce.
She showed absolutely no fear in her expression, and she'd given the long sickle-shaped scar on his cheek little notice. Royce was a bit unsettled by that-he was used to quite a different reaction when women first saw his face. The disfigurement didn't seem to bother the nun, though. That pleased him considerably.
'Ulric's eyes are the same color as yours,' Royce remarked.
That wasn't exactly true, he realized. The baby's eyes were a pretty blue. Danielle's were beautiful.
'Many Saxons have blue eyes,' she replied. 'Ulric will be eight months old in less than a week. Will he live that long, Norman?'
Because she asked the question in such a gentle, undemanding voice, Royce didn't take offense. 'We Normans don't kill innocent children,' he replied.
She nodded, then honored him with a smile. His heart started pounding in reaction. She had an enchanting dimple in her cheek, and, Lord, how her eyes could bewitch him. They weren't blue, he decided. They were violet, the identical shade of the fragile flower he'd once seen.
He really needed to get hold of his thoughts, he told himself. He was acting like a besotted squire. He was feeling just as awkward, too.
Royce was too old for such feelings. 'How is it you've learned to speak our language so well?' he asked. His voice had gone hoarse.
She didn't seem to notice. 'One of my brothers went with Harold, our Saxon king, to Normandy six years ago,' she answered. 'When he returned, he insisted we all conquer this language.'
Ingelram moved to stand next to his baron. 'Does your twin sister look like you?' he blurted out.
The nun turned to look at the soldier. She seemed to be taking his measure. Her stare was intense, unwavering. Ingelram, Royce noticed, turned bright red under her close scrutiny and couldn't hold her gaze long.
'Nicholaa and I are very much alike in appearance,' she finally answered. 'Most people cannot tell us apart. Our dispositions, however, are vastly different. I've an accepting nature, but my sister certainly doesn't. She has vowed to die before surrendering to England's invaders. Nicholaa believes it's only a matter of time before you Normans give up and go back home. 'Tis the truth, I fear for my sister's safety.'
'Do you know where Lady Nicholaa went?' Ingelram asked. 'My baron has need to know.'
'Yes,' she answered. She kept her gaze on the vassal. 'If your baron will give me his assurance that no harm will come to my sister, I'll tell you her destination.'
Ingelram let out a loud snort. 'We Normans don't kill women. We tame them.'
Royce felt like tossing his vassal out the doorway when he heard that arrogant boast. He noticed the nun didn't much care for the remark, either. Her expression turned mutinous, though only for a fleeting second. The flash of anger was quickly gone, too, replaced by a look of serenity.
His guard was suddenly up, and though he couldn't give a reason for his suspicions, he knew something was amiss.
'No harm will come to your sister,' Royce said.
She looked relieved. Royce decided then her anger had been a reaction to her fear for her sister.
'Aye,' Ingelram interjected with great enthusiasm. 'Nicholaa is the king's prize.'
'The king's prize?'
She was having difficulty hiding her anger now. Her face became flushed. Her voice, however, remained calm. 'I don't understand what you mean. King Harold is dead.'
'Your Saxon king is dead,' Ingelram explained, 'but duke William of Normandy is on his way to London even now and will soon be anointed king of all England. We have orders to take Nicholaa to London as soon as possible.'
'For what purpose?' she asked.
'Your sister is the king's prize. He intends to award her to a noble knight.' Ingelram's voice was filled with pride when he added, 'That is an honor.'
She shook her head. 'You've still to explain why my sister is to become the king's prize,' she whispered. 'How would your William even know about Nicholaa?'
Royce wasn't about to let Ingelram enlighten the nun. The truth would only upset the gentlewoman. He shoved his vassal toward the doorway. 'You have my word no harm will come to your sister,' he promised Danielle again. 'Now tell me her destination. You have no understanding of the dangers outside these walls. It's only a matter of time before she's captured, and there are, unfortunately, a few Normans who won't treat her
