Читать книгу The Bride Of Spring - Catherine Archer - Страница 9

Raine readied herself for the meal with even more care than she had shown on previous occasions since coming to court. She was determined to make herself known to Benedict Ainsworth, and prayed he would appear in the hall.

That she must explain her presence behind the curtain in the audience chamber, she knew. Somehow she would think of something. Her real purpose, that of discovering whether or not Lord Ainsworth would be a suitable guardian for William, was foremost in her mind.

Raine entered the splendor of the great hall with mixed feelings of dread and anticipation. She paid scant attention to the lush tapestries that lined the walls, the dark beamed ceiling overhead or the elegantly garbed courtiers, who crowded about the tables consuming roast meats, stews, fowl of various varieties, fine bread and copious amounts of wine and ale. She did note, though, that Edward was not in attendance at the high table, for his heavy, carved chair stood empty. Raine felt unaccountably relieved at this, though she was quite sure that Ainsworth had not told him of her presence in his chamber.

Her mind was firmly fixed on the matter at hand. The thought that she might actually be nearer to accomplishing her goal of finding someone to give William the protection of his name—a husband—was both terrifying and strangely exciting. It was especially so when she recalled how tall and handsome the man under consideration was.

Raine pushed this last thought away. She could not think about such things. To do so would be to risk allowing them to cloud her judgment about Benedict Ainsworth being the right man to protect William and his lands. And that was all he need do. She had no desire for a true marriage. She had Abbernathy and her brother to look to.

She squared her shoulders beneath the heavy sapphire velvet of her gown and let her gaze sweep the room. When she did not immediately locate the baron among the throng, she took a deep breath and searched again, more slowly. There was no sign of those unmistakable broad shoulders, nor his raven hair.

Disappointment made her own shoulders slump. Even though she had known there was no guarantee of his attendance, she had not actually believed Lord Ainsworth would be absent.

Benedict had considered the notion of joining his men at the inn in which they were staying. There he could dine and drink in relaxed company. He disliked court life at the best of times.

Yet something made him remain at Westminster. He could not stop thinking of the young woman whose presence in the king’s chamber he had concealed. The more he thought about her, the more he knew that he must discover what she had been doing there. Surely he had been quite mad to shield her as he had.

His doing so made him responsible for finding out what she had been about. He wanted no crime against the crown upon his conscience. For that was the only purpose he could imagine for her being there, though for some reason he was fairly certain that was not why she had been.

A sudden notion struck him as he paused in the doorway of the great hall. Perhaps she was infatuated with Edward.

Benedict was surprised at how much this thought displeased him. He told himself it was because she had seemed, even in the moment that he had looked into her eyes, to have an air of innocence about her. She would not retain it long were she to become involved with the king of England. Edward was already known for his way with women.

Benedict shrugged, albeit stiffly, as he entered the crowded chamber. If that was where the woman’s interest lay, the outcome was her own quandary. He meant only to learn if she had been up to some other devilment.

He had no trouble finding her among the throng. Though her back was to him, and he had seen her only once, he would recognize that red hair anywhere. Tonight it was escaping her blue pearled headdress. She was seated some distance from the head table, which implied modest status. Again curiosity gripped him.

A strange anticipation filled him as he made his way among the tables to her side. Benedict stopped beside her and she looked up at him, those golden eyes of hers widening in surprise and, dared he believe it, pleasure. He found himself thinking of his first impression—that she was quite pretty. He realized that he had been in error there. She was far more than pretty with those surprisingly dark lashed, golden eyes. Her nose was straight and aristocratic, her chin firm but not stubborn. Her mouth was pleasingly curved and lovely, and as she began to smile, it turned up slightly more on one side than the other in a way that he thought amazingly endearing.

An odd warmth suffused him and he found himself simply standing there, staring down at her like a besotted calf. His confusion over his unprecedented reaction made him speak with more gruffness than he intended. “May I sit here with you?”

Her smile faded somewhat and a pensive frown marred her brow. “You are welcome to do so, my lord.”

He realized that he had been less than civil, but concentrated on his desire to learn why she had been in the king’s chamber. Once he had taken the place on the bench next to her, Benedict found the proximity to her slightly unnerving. For he could not move without his own shoulder brushing against hers. And each time it did so he knew a far too heady sense of his own masculinity in comparison to her delicate womanliness.

Because of his own disturbance he lost no time in getting to the point. “My lady?”

She looked up from contemplation of her glass. “My lord?”

Again he was struck by the color of those amazing eyes of hers. He looked away, forcing himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. He kept his voice low. “I have come here this evening in hope of finding you so that you might have opportunity to explain why you were in the king’s chamber this morn, when he had expressly sent everyone away.”

Her voice was eager as she said, “Oh, of course, my lord. I have no wish to hide anything from you, and I do hope you realize how very grateful I am for your discretion this morn.” Her lids fluttered down over those incredibly beautiful and ingenuous gold eyes.

“Well?” he prodded, not pleased with his thoughts.

She spoke softly. “Firstly, please allow me to introduce myself, my lord. My name is Raine Blanchett.”

He made no reply to this, though he could not help thinking that the name Raine somehow suited her perfectly. He was immediately and unaccountably reminded of the last time he had seen his father. The six Ainsworths had been standing on the docks beside the ship that would take his parents to visit his mother’s sister in Scotland. It had been raining, and his father had reached into his pouch and removed a gold coin. That coin had glistened in the rain as his father said, “Take your brothers about the town before you go home.”

His mother had showed concern. “Should he do so, Benedict? The younger boys can be quite unruly.”

His father had smiled and put an affectionate hand on her shoulder as he’d met his namesake’s gaze. “Aye, Leticia, I trust him to look after them in my stead.”

Benedict had never forgotten that moment, nor his father’s faith in him. He was not sure why the color of Raine’s eyes reminded him of it, or why that was so unsettling.

Raine had gone on at his silence. “Allow me to admit I should not have been where I was. It was completely foolhardy of me. I had hidden behind the curtain because I was attempting to avoid someone who would not cease in his efforts to speak to me and then…” She stared down at her hands. “I could not very well come out while you and King Edward were…What would he have thought?”

Benedict felt slightly uneasy with this almost too earnest explanation. He scowled. “Your words seem somewhat strained to me. I begin to think I may have good cause to go to King Edward on this matter.”

She looked at him then, her eyes wide with horror. “No, please, my lord. I beg you not to do that. I swear on my own father’s grave that I meant no harm to king or crown by my actions. I have no interest whatsoever in any of the king’s business.”

Now Benedict believed. There could be no doubting her sincerity this time. Whatever had brought her to commit such a rash act, it had not been treason.

For some reason he breathed an inner sigh of relief. He told himself it was because he was glad to have had no part in any plot against the king. But he found himself paying undue attention to the way a stray curl brushed the side of Raine Blanchett’s cheek as she looked down.

His gaze moved over her pearl-dotted headdress, then down the sleeve of her matching gown of blue velvet. Obviously the woman was not suffering financial lack. He recalled the fine green slippers she had worn earlier in the day. He would likely never forget the surprise of seeing those unmistakably female feet peeking out from beneath that curtain. He suddenly realized he was smiling.

Instantly he schooled his expression to a more grave one. There was certainly no reason to smile over what she had done. He felt he must warn her to try to think about the consequences of such acts. “I will take your word, Lady Raine. But I suggest you mind your ways in the future. Should I learn you have ever again done such a thing, I will go to King Edward. And make no mistake, my departure from court two days hence will not prevent me from hearing.”

An unfathomable expression of disappointment seemed to pass over her features as he finished. She said only, “Oh, thank you, my lord, you are the most kind and chivalrous of men. I will do nothing to betray your faith in me.”

Her vow, though spoken in a low voice, was so heartfelt he found himself touched by it. He was also slightly overwhelmed by her seemingly genuine flattery of himself. Why, she did not even know him. What an enigma she was, this Raine Blanchett. Benedict realized that his brief acquaintance with her had certainly been interesting—more interesting than any such acquaintance in his memory.

He caught himself immediately. He had no need of interesting things to occur in his life. He was quite busy enough running his estates and caring for his family. It was all he had done in the ten years since his parents had died, and all he wanted to do.

Raine was more impressed with this man by the moment, though his revelation that he was leaving in two days was not encouraging. He had certainly seen through the lie she had told him about hiding from the unwanted attentions of a would-be suitor. Yet he had believed her when she’d spoken of not wanting to bring any harm to the crown. How very astute he seemed.

She could not help smiling with secret approval as she looked up…and saw Denley Trent standing at the end of the room. Her pleasure turned to a groan of despondency. Denley was the last man she expected or wished to see.

Her pained gaze trailed over him. He was dressed in what was obviously a new scarlet velvet houppelande of the type preferred by the more daring of the courtiers. ’Twas short to the point of indecency, and the long dagged sleeves seemed too feminine against his large hands. The lumbering Denley was not made for such fashion.

His very presence was like a weight upon her shoulders. What manner of man was he to follow her here to court? Indeed, where would he stop in his persistence to see both herself and William beneath his thumb?

Raine glanced up at Benedict Ainsworth. How different he was from Denley. Having a man such as him at her side would surely make her cousin reconsider his dogged determination to have her.

But Ainsworth was now talking with the nobleman to his right. Though she had gone to great trouble to make herself appealing, he seemed interested in nothing save her intentions toward King Edward. Now that she had made herself clearer to him on that score he appeared to have lost interest in her completely. And with Cousin Denley having arrived, what was she to do?

Her desperate glance raked the crowded chamber as if seeking some answer to the problem of Denley Trent. In all the weeks she had been at court, Raine had not found one man, other than Benedict Ainsworth, who even appeared to come close to what she was hoping for.

Her gaze went back to Denley. He was looking about as if searching for someone, and even as a frown marred her brow, his gaze came to rest upon her with obvious relief.

Raine sighed with frustration and despair as he then stalked toward her like a bull in a cow pen, resolution written upon his heavy features. She bit down on her lip as she moved to rise. She did not wish to face Denley here, in the midst of this company. There was no telling what he might say about her having left Abbernathy without informing him. He had taken to visiting her almost daily after her father’s death and had surely been shocked to arrive there and find her gone. Especially as she had instructed that no one was to tell him whence she had gone.

Her efforts to leave the hall before he could reach her were thwarted. The benches were pressed too closely about the tables, and with her heavy skirts slowing her efforts, she could not get to her feet quickly enough. Denley reached her side before she was able to extract one leg.

He spoke in a voice loud enough to draw the attention of those sitting near her, including, she noted out of the corner of her eye, Benedict Ainsworth. “Raine, I have been looking for you.”

She glared up at him. “Denley, what a surprise.”

The man scowled. “It should not be so great a surprise. Any man would be concerned about his future bride. You disappeared from Abbernathy without warning.”

Utter and complete frustration colored her tone as she leaned back, putting her hands to her hips. “I am not going to marry you. That is my final word on the subject.”

He reached down to grasp her arm in a tight grip. “Do not be ridiculous. Of course you will marry me. Has some court dandy been filling your head with nonsense? I will persuade him of his error soon enough.”

Raine leaned farther away from him, but there was only so far she could move in the circumstances. She was infinitely aware of the rock solid breadth of Benedict Ainsworth’s shoulder beside her. Denley pulled her toward him.

She knew they were creating quite a display, and kept her gaze trained on that of her nemesis to keep from having to look at anyone else. She must extricate herself from this situation as quickly as possible. This would in no way help her in her efforts to attract the baron.

It was with utter mortification, and surprisingly, an undeniable trace of happiness, that she heard the deep and unmistakable voice of the man she so wished to make a favorable impression upon. “Your pardon, sirrah, this lady does not appear to welcome your attentions.”

Her gaze fixed on his darkly handsome face. He was watching her cousin with disdain.

Denley frowned at Benedict as he said, “I do not see that this is any business of yours, my lord, and would warn you to mind your own affairs.”

Benedict turned to Raine. “Are you bound to this man?”

It was a long moment before she could reply, for the gentle regard in those dark blue eyes seemed to make her heart beat just a bit faster than was usual. At last she replied, “Nay, he is but my cousin. The notion that we are to be wed is purely his own.”

Benedict reached out and put his own hand over Denley’s on her arm. Even as embarrassed and exasperated as she felt, Raine could not help noting that as large as Denley’s hand was, Benedict’s was larger, and more sun bronzed. His fingers were longer and more supple and obviously stronger as they gripped her cousin’s.

Benedict spoke with quiet but unmistakable command. “You will unhand this lady, now. This is not the time nor the place to discuss such matters and you should certainly take them up with her guardian rather than humiliating her in company as you have.”

Denley seemed, for the first time, to realize that they were being closely observed by those around them. He had the grace to flush and let go of Raine’s arm, though the fact that he did so under duress was clear in his angry expression as he stepped back. He sputtered, “As her only living relation, I am her guardian.”

Raine shook her head. “He is not. My father died some months gone by, but did not name Denley as guardian. As I said, he is my cousin, nothing more.”

Denley grimaced at this but seemed to have nothing more to say, since Benedict obviously would not heed him in the face of Raine’s objection. Yet Raine cared nothing for what Denley thought. She had no more interest in him for the moment.

She looked at Benedict, who was watching her closely. His concerned expression brought about a strange fluttering in her chest. It had been many years since anyone had shown such an interest in looking after her. Raine was accustomed to being protector and caretaker to Will, Aida and all the others who resided on the estate.

The sense of being cared for, if only on the most superficial level, was unexpectedly enervating. She felt sharp tears sting her eyes, but she refused to shed them.

She did not need anyone to care for her, but for Will and his inheritance. She dragged her gaze from Benedict, taking in those around them with a wave of mortification as she noted their interest and speculation.

She told herself it must surely be her shame that Denley had brought this public display upon her that made her react with such weakness. Raine knew she could face no more in this moment without crumbling. Again she moved to extricate herself from the table. When Denley stepped forward to help her, Benedict Ainsworth forestalled him by standing.

Raine could do no more than cast Benedict a brief and grateful glance as she at long last freed herself and rose. She was aware of the eyes upon her back, knew that people would be thinking all manner of things. She had heard them speak of the goings-on of others often enough. But she did not run as she so desperately desired to do. She squared her shoulders and forced herself to walk away with her head high.

After a long and sleepless night, Raine knew that she had to act without delay. Denley had traced her all the way to court, had made a terrible scene before everyone within earshot, with no thought to her own feelings or those of others.

Benedict Ainsworth had certainly come to her aid without hesitation, but he had clearly failed to note her feeble efforts to attract him.

Perhaps, she realized with a heavy sigh, he simply did not find her appealing. The thought was not an encouraging one, for how else was she to get him to wed her? She did not require him to care deeply for her. Love was something she had determined to live without when she’d decided to marry solely for the purpose of protecting William.

It was, in fact, best for all concerned if the man she married was not in love with her. Especially as she had no intention of living with him, but meant to go home to Abbernathy as soon as the marriage was settled. There had been a member of her family living at Abbernathy since before the time of William I. She would not be the first to abandon her birthright, but would hold it in trust until her brother was able to take up his own duties. If her husband wished to come to Abbernathy, then he was welcome to do so.

Again she reminded herself that going home could come only after a marriage had taken place, and no husband had yet been found.

For a moment despair made a lump rise in her throat. She was glad that she was for once alone in the tiny room that had been allotted them, Aida and William having gone for a walk about the castle grounds. Raine had no heart for such distractions, and she would not wish for either of them to know how worried she was.

At that moment a knock sounded on the door, causing Raine to give a start. She told herself she was getting far too anxious. Nothing would be gained by becoming so overset that she could not reason clearly. Quickly she rose from the bench beneath the window, taking a deep, calming breath before going to answer it. She had no idea who it might be, as William and Aida would simply enter.

Seeing Denley Trent on the threshold when she opened the door did nothing to soothe her already tattered emotions. Immediately she moved to close it.

Denley stopped her by stepping into the opening, effectively forcing Raine backward. She faced him with bravado, though the way he smiled at her as he came farther into the chamber and shut the door behind him gave her a definite sense of unease.

She pointed toward the closed portal. “I want you to remove yourself immediately.”

He grinned. “Oh Raine, is this the way you hope to win me? By ever playing hard to get?”

She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I am not trying to win you. I wish that you would go and never again darken my stoop. Can you not understand that?”

For a moment Denley seemed uncertain, and she felt a budding hope that she had finally made him see. But his uncertainty was soon replaced by a lecherous smile that she realized he must think charming. He came toward her with outstretched arms. “There is no need to be frightened, Raine. I will not hurt you. I know well how to please a woman.”

Raine found this difficult to believe. Surely in order for that to be true, he would need have more sensitivity than he had ever displayed in her presence. Not that she had any experience with such things, but she preferred to live by her own misjudgment than for Denley to prove otherwise.

But she had no time to discuss her preference now, for he was still moving toward her. The intent in his brown eyes was more than evident.

Trying hard to hide the anxiety that rushed through her in a sickening tide, Raine took a step backward. She shook her head. “Nay, Denley, do not touch me. You cannot.”

He shrugged. “I simply mean to show you that there is no need for so much maidenly fear on your part. Once the deed is done you will see that there is nothing to be afraid of and we can be wed without delay.”

Anger flared in her like a burning torch. “I will not allow you to pretend that you are attempting to do me some courtesy by forcing yourself upon me. If you touch me it will be rape and nothing less.”

He faltered only briefly. “We both know that our being together—our marrying—would be for the best.”

“For you, perhaps.”

Denley did not hesitate again, but continued toward her with obvious purpose. Raine was brave, but she was not a fool. She realized that retreat would be better than valor at the moment. She dodged around him and ran toward the door.

Denley Trent was a big man and by no means light on his feet. He reached out to grab her, getting hold of the sleeve of her amber gown, as he cried, “I have you now.”

But the stitching on her shoulder gave way and she pulled free, losing only a small amount of momentum, as she replied with relief, “Nay, sir, you have not.” She managed to get the door open and race out into the hallway before her cousin could prevent her from doing so.

He followed close behind, though he cast a glance about the hall. She wondered if last eve’s debacle had made him slightly more reticent about creating a spectacle. She could only pray that was so.

“Come now, Raine, need we continue with these childish games?” he whined. “You only put off the inevitable.”

She did not dally about to discuss it, but hurried toward the more public rooms of the castle, holding her torn gown in place. To her relief, Denley made no move to follow her.

Yet as she reached what she considered a safer location, blending in with the milling courtiers in the hall, she knew that she had only effected a temporary solution. Denley had not finished with her. Nothing she could do or say made the least impact on him. He was so set on meeting his own ends that he would not heed her, nor anyone else, and had clearly convinced himself that she was only resisting him out of some maidenly fear of marriage. Clearly he would stop at nothing to see them married, even if that meant he must resort to rape, a scenario she had only suspected before.

Raine knew that she had to do something. The time for indecisiveness was past. Last night Benedict Ainsworth had revealed his plan to leave the court within the next two days, and he was her only hope.

Under no circumstances could she allow William to fall into her cousin’s hands while there was a possibility of doing something to prevent it. The question remained, just how far was she willing to go to meet her ends?

Aida, who had slumped down on the end of the bed as Raine began to tell her of her plan, shook her head in disbelief. “My lady, we cannot do this. What if you are found out?”

Raine stood her ground. “We will not be found out, at least not until it is all over and I am safely married. If we follow the plan I have devised, no one will have time even to question what is occurring.”

The terror in the maid’s green eyes would have been enough to give a less determined woman pause. Raine was not such a woman. “I told you what Denley attempted to do in this very chamber today. You saw what he did to my gown when I broke free of him. I can delay no longer. I must protect Will from Cousin Denley. Father would never forgive me for allowing that madman to gain control of his lands.”

“But, Lady Raine, I do not think…I do not understand how you could ever have the courage to…do what you mean to do. Nor how I can have a hand in this scheme. He is a nobleman.”

Raine rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You really have no need to do aught but get what we need from the castle kitchens, keep William from our chamber for the night and then to shriek as if you’d been cast into the fires of hell when you come into the room in the morning. It is really very simple on your part, Aida. I am the one who must get him here and manage all the rest of it.”

Aida continued to look anything but certain of what her mistress was proposing.

Raine felt her own certainty lag for a brief moment, but she braced herself firmly. The dread of what might happen if she fell into fear and indecision was too great. She knew all she could do was keep moving forward. From the moment this notion had popped into her head she had done just that.

She turned to the maid. “Aida, you will help me to dress and arrange my hair for this evening. I must look the very best that I possibly can, though judging from what has gone forth so far I do not know how much that might aid me with Benedict Ainsworth.” She tried not to hear the regret in her own voice. “Still, I must consider every possibility. Our success hinges on my getting the man to this chamber.”

She moved to the chest containing the new gowns she had made up in the hope that looking well would help her find a husband. Unfortunately, as she had already told Aida, after Benedict’s reactions to her last eve she was not sure that her appearance would make any difference whatsoever. What would be accomplished in fussing over such things would be in keeping the frightened maid occupied until she must go down to dine.

And herself as well. Raine did not want to think about what might happen if Benedict was not there. Nor did she want to think about what would happen if he was not willing to come to her chamber. She simply could not allow herself to dwell upon the impossible.

Several hours later, Raine paused at the chamber door and looked back at William, who sat upon the bed watching her. He had come in from the stables some time past, his gaze assessing as he saw that preparations were already underway for her to go down to dine. Yet he said nothing, though she was sure he could not have failed to note Aida’s anxiety. Raine realized that the maid was ofttimes agitated of late, and was grateful that he did not seem to put any particular meaning upon it now.

Raine did not want William to know what she was about. She wished to save him the burden of worrying about her, for she knew he would certainly do so if he knew. His guilt at her having shouldered the responsibility of caring for him had been apparent to her on more than one occasion.

In spite of his desire to spare her, there was nothing he could do. He was only a boy, albeit a good and loving one.

Her informing him that he and Aida would sleep in the hall with the servants this night had understandably brought comment. But Raine had told him only that she was required to share the room with another lady who had just arrived at court.

She hated to lie to her brother, but could not tell him the real reason she needed to be alone. Aside from wishing to protect him from any unpleasantness in this Raine also knew she could not summon the fortitude to convince one more soul of the soundness of her logic.

Or perhaps she was afraid that if she discussed the matter more, she would not have the courage to follow through with it. Perhaps she was afraid that her own fears would make her think of justification to stop now before it was too late. Hurriedly she left the room.

The hall was crowded, as it was every night. For a brief moment, as she stood in the entrance, Raine was again beset by fear that Benedict Ainsworth might not be there, that he might have gone home already. She well recalled his remarks to King Edward about his dislike of court life.

His sentiment, in that area, matched her own very well. She greatly missed the hills and dales of home, her duties about the keep, her own folk.

With a sensation of both dread and relief, she saw him, seated not far from where he had taken his meal the previous night. Drawing a deep breath, Raine moved among the crowded tables, not hesitating until she reached his side. There, not knowing what else to do, she simply waited for his attention.

She stood for only a brief moment before he looked up with an expression of surprise. “Good evening, Lady Raine.”

She nodded. “My lord.” Raine gestured about the room. “I would beg your indulgence. I see that the tables are quite full. Is there any possibility that room might be made for me here?”

Raine did not allow herself to even stop to consider her own audacity. For in truth there was no more room at this table than any other. She was quite aware that he, too, must know this. She simply had no time for subtlety and would not be sure how to go about displaying it if she did.

If Benedict Ainsworth was aware of her forwardness he gave no indication of it. He spoke to the man next to him. “I am certain that we can find room for one small woman, can we not, Lord Longly?”

The elderly nobleman bowed his white head politely. “Of course.” He waved a frail hand toward the space they had made on the bench.

Raine seated herself quickly as the men went back to their conversation. Neither appeared to take any further interest in her—a fact that did not bode well for her plans.

She had no real heart for the food that was piled on the platters, but she knew she must go through the motions of appearing to eat, at the very least. She was not happy to see how badly her hands were trembling as she took a small portion of the savory roast fowl and bread.

Far from being appealing, as it was meant to, the rich scent of the meat nearly made her choke as she took a bite. Raine was far too conscious of what she was attempting to do, too conscious of the sheer temerity of her actions.

She could feel the heat of Benedict Ainsworth’s body, hear the deep sound of his voice as he spoke to the man on his other side. Ainsworth had been kind to her, had defended her against Denley last eve when no other man present had so much as spoken a word. There was something very comforting about having him near her. All she had learned of him showed him to be a strong and honorable man.

Raine suddenly wondered if, in the event that she succeeded here, she would be doing this decent man a grave wrong.

Immediately she told herself that she had no choice. The qualities that caused her to hesitate over going forward were the very reasons she had chosen him. She had run out of time, and Benedict Ainsworth seemed to be exactly what she had been looking for—was in fact the only possibility.

It was Denley Trent who was to blame in this. He had forced her hand. For her brother’s sake, she could not falter now.

With that thought uppermost in her mind, Raine waited for a lull in the men’s conversation, then turned toward Benedict as he tore a section from his bread. “My lord?”

He stopped and looked at her, his expression expectant, and she thought perhaps somewhat leery. “Aye.”

Although she told herself that she must surely be mistaken, Raine had a sudden urge to run screaming from the hall, but knew she could not. In spite of the reticence she perceived in him, she smiled with what she hoped was appealing flirtation. “My lord, I wish to thank you again for your aid last eve.”

His face was unreadable as he lifted a dismissive hand. “There is no need to thank me. I would not have such a lout accost any woman.”

Raine smiled again, dropping her gaze and looking up at him from beneath her lashes as she had seen other ladies about the court do. “Yet I do wish for you to understand how grateful I am, Lord Ainsworth, for your chivalrous behavior. You have done me no small service. My cousin has plagued me greatly for some time and refuses to heed my rebuffs even yet.”

She was not displeased with the look of concern that passed over Ainsworth’s face at her words. He spoke somewhat roughly. “You mean he has accosted you again?”

Raine raised her wide gaze to his. “Oh yes, my lord. Why, this very day he came to my chamber when I was alone. If I had not barely managed to escape him I fear he might have…” The truth of what she said lent an air of fear and desperation to her voice, even though she was telling him all of this with deliberate intent.