“Silly,” she said to herself, the soft sound of her voice barely heard over the noise of the midday courtyard. “Who’s to say he disapproves of you? Maybe he just has a gloomy expression. It might be the result of a wound.”
The more she thought about it, however, the more unlikely it seemed. While that handsome face was not devoid of battle scars, the old wounds were slight, pale, and well-healed. She wondered how the rest of his tall, strong body had fared.
She giggled at the deliciously naughty thought. Alys wouldn’t understand. Alys was never tempted to do something wicked, just for the fun of it. Alys thought fun was working hard, loving others, taking care of her sister. Alys was a bore.
Still, Claire loved her dearly. And if she had any say in the matter, neither of them would be sacrificed to Richard’s pet demon.
True, he wasn’t monstrous looking, if you avoided gazing into his golden, merciless eyes. But there was something about his tall, ominous presence that made Claire shiver with superstitious horror. The very thought of sweet Alys bedding such a man was enough to make her weep.
Still, there would be time. Richard had decreed that Simon of Navarre must court her elder sister, and if the wedding date were dependent on how successful the courtship was, then Alys might very well die a maiden. There was no way a sensible woman could ever be tempted by one such as the wizard, and Alys was a supremely sensible woman.
Claire could smell the stables, ambrosia under the hot sun. No one seemed to realize she’d slipped out of the castle, and she darted forward, intent on reaching the stables before anyone noticed that Lord Richard’s golden-haired sister was about.
The shadow loomed up out of nowhere, huge and threatening, cutting off the light, and Claire uttered a small scream, one that was silenced by the hand that clamped over her mouth; the other hand wrapped around her waist and drew her back into the shadows.
She kicked back, furiously, biting down hard on the hand that silenced her, hard enough to bring blood. She was released, just as suddenly, flung away from her attacker into the shadows. The man who’d captured her didn’t curse, which surprised her. She was even more startled by the sight of his stern face glowering down at her. It was the grimly handsome knight who’d been watching her.
“How dare you lay hands on me?” she demanded. “Who do you think you are, to assault Lord Richard’s own sister? I’ll have you whipped…”
“I doubt it,” he said calmly enough, his voice low and clipped. “My orders come from your brother himself.”
Claire stared at him in disbelief. “You lie.”
“I never lie. It’s a sin.”
“And I suppose you never sin,” she snapped back.
“All too often, my lady. But I make my confession, and Brother Jerome gives me penance and absolution. I would think you could do with both of those gifts.”
“What makes you think I’m a sinner?”
“We’re all sinners,” he said heavily. “Particularly women.”
Claire was not one to take such words lightly. She moved closer, observing him in the shadows. He was just as handsome close up, with his darkly bronzed skin, his icy eyes, his pale hair. And he was just as disapproving. “If we’re sinners, it’s because men lead us astray,” she said.“You say you’re following my brother’s orders? And what are they, pray tell?”
He’d drawn a scrap of cloth from beneath his tunic and was casually wrapping it around his hand. “I’ve been commissioned to watch over you and your sister. To protect you from insult, and from error.”
“I don’t need your protection, whoever you are. I can take care of myself. Go watch over my sister if you must.”
“Your sister is the least of my worries. And I am Thomas du Rhaymer. Knight to your brother, Lord Richard.”
“So you said.” He didn’t smell of ale, or sweat, like most of the other men in the keep. “I absolve you of your duties, Sir Thomas. Go away and watch over some other hapless female.” She started past him, but he reached out and caught her, whirling her around to meet his stern gaze. His grip was not painful, but it was unbreakable.
“I’m afraid that’s not your choice, my lady. I take my orders from my liege lord and no one else. He’s told me to watch over you and make certain you behave yourself, and I intend to do just that.”
He was still holding on to her arm, unwilling to release her, and she told herself he was infuriating. In truth, he was. But he was also interestingly masterful.
Claire, however, was not interested in being mastered at the moment. She was interested in riding. “I’m on my way to visit my horse,” she said grandly. “You may accompany me if you wish, Sir Thomas.”
“No, my lady. You’ll come back inside the keep.”
She glared up at him, no longer appreciating the firm grip on her upper arm. “I’ll do no such thing. I’m going riding.”
He didn’t bother to argue. He simply hauled her with him, back to the thick oak door at the base of the tower. She struggled, but it was useless against a man of his strength, and he simply shoved her through the door, following her and closing them into the darkness.
“My brother will cut off your hands,” she hissed at him.
He began dragging her up the circular stairs. “I doubt it. My hands are far too valuable to his lordship, and I’m simply following his orders. He told me to beat you if I’d a mind to.
