Читать книгу Beguiled By The Forbidden Knight - Elisabeth Hobbes - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Guilherm sat at the low table, a goblet of weak wine in his right hand. He had removed his cloak and scraped the bristles from his face in warm water and now he was hungry. He was trying to keep his irritation in check by observing a hole in the corner of the room where a mouse had scuttled beneath the floorboards on his arrival. He was placing private bets whether the animal would appear before the prioress deigned to send a servant to provide him with food. He suspected from the expression on her face when she had left him in the sparsely furnished lodging that the mouse would win.

He did not mind eating alone. Solitude was preferable to watching people stare while they pretended they weren’t. The light through the small window was fading rapidly and the single rush light that he had been given would leave him in darkness before long.

Gui cursed his luck. Until he found himself publicly claiming the false identity he had not been sure whether he would actually carry through with Gilbert’s suggestion to impersonate him. If Lady Emma had written to forewarn of his arrival as she had been supposed to do he would have had no need, but clearly she had continued with her intention of making it as hard as possible for Gilbert to retrieve her daughter. Now Guilherm would have to continue the deception until the prioress decided he would be allowed to take the girl away with him.

He thought back to the huddle of women who had witnessed the scene and wondered which of them the girl was. He cast his mind’s eye along the line of women, remembering the shock that had coursed through him when he saw the river sprite again. He should have guessed from the shapeless grey tunic that she had removed that she was an inhabitant of the priory.

He thought further back to the vision of her delicate figure sheathed in the clinging wet linen that had so exquisitely shown off all she had to offer. It had been years since a woman had woken any sense of excitement in Gui and the invisible hand that had pulled his guts out through his chest was alarming in its violence. He drained the goblet and closed his eyes, imagining he had met the girl under other circumstances when he was not so repulsive.

He became so lost in the fantasy that the sudden, demanding rap at the door made him jump. His food had arrived and the mouse had lost the bet after all.

‘Come in.’

The door opened and let in a draught that whistled around his neck and midriff. He gave a slight shiver and spoke without turning.

‘Come in and close the door behind you. The night is chillier than the day promised it would be.’

The door banged shut with surprising violence. Gui looked over his shoulder and found himself face to face with the girl from the river. She had appeared at the point when Gui’s imagination had her on a bed in a state of arousal and a position that would make her blush to learn. A frisson rippled through him at the knowledge she had no idea what he was thinking.

Unlike the look of ecstatic abandon his imagination had conjured for her, however, the river girl’s face bore the angry expression she had worn during that encounter. Her pale eyes bored into his. She held a wooden bowl in her outstretched hands and had moved no further from the door. Gui realised she was waiting for him to say something.

He gave a rueful grin as he realised his manners were sadly lacking now he was no longer in company, then forced it from his face as he realised it could look as though he was grimacing. He cleared his throat.

‘Greetings again, little water sprite.’

She gave him another evil look. Any thoughts Gui had been harbouring that she had come to thank him for keeping her secret vanished.

‘I preferred you when you were using your pretty eyes to beg me to deny our previous acquaintance,’ he said wryly. ‘Now you look as though you’d burn me on the spot if you could summon enough heat in them.’

The girl opened her mouth as if to retort, but closed it suddenly. She took a jerky step towards him. Gui indicated the bowl in her hand with a hunk of bread balanced precariously on the rim.

‘For me?’

She stepped closer to the table and placed it in front of him, face still surly. Gui examined the greasy-looking stew and bread that was mostly crust without enthusiasm.

‘Thank you. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.’

She snorted in a manner that implied she believed differently and for the first time her face lost some of the surliness. Gui broke a small morsel of the bread between his gloved fingers. Dipping it into the bowl caused unidentifiable chunks to rise and sink beneath the surface. The stew did little to soften the hard bread and the taste was as unpleasant as he had anticipated.

‘I can see why you were trying for a fish with this waiting for you here.’

She didn’t speak, but at his second reference to their previous meeting a hint of pink crept across her alabaster cheeks. The flush of colour suited her. She’d spent too much time inside. A couple of weeks in the Breton sunshine would give her the rosy glow that Gui remembered from the girls in his childhood.

She had been lingering by the table, close to Gui’s side, but as he picked up the spoon she walked to the door, still without speaking. He had spoken more with her than he had to anyone since leaving York. Though he avoided company if possible he couldn’t face another evening feeling homesick for Brittany and lonely.

‘Wait!’

She twisted her head to look over her shoulder at Gui. Her spine curved in a sinuous line from neck to waist, emphasising her slender figure.

‘You could keep me company while I eat.’

Her eyes shifted to the sheathed sword that Gui had left propped against the second stool when he had removed it. Stung by her obvious wariness he reached across and slung it on to the bed at the far wall.

‘You’re perfectly safe with me. I’ve been travelling alone for days and would appreciate some company.’

She turned to face him, halfway between the door and the table with her hands folded before her.

‘I didn’t realise this was a silent order.’

‘It isn’t.’

She blurted the words so quickly Gui half-thought he had imagined them. She lapsed into silence immediately, looking as surprised as Gui felt that she had spoken at all.

Gui beckoned her to the table and pushed the free stool out with his toe. She slid on to it, perching on the edge and looking as if she would fly away at any moment. Her head was bent, but Gui could see her eyes were fixed on his hands as they moved from the bowl to his mouth and back.

A normal man—one graced with manners and the noble heritage Gui was pretending to possess—would have removed his gloves to eat. Gui’s left glove was sturdy enough that he could hold the bowl steady so he did not have the embarrassment of seeing it sliding across the table, but being watched with such scrutiny emphasised the self-consciousness that had plagued him since his hand had been taken. He had no intention of revealing his deformity to the truculent girl who seemed so lacking in the art of hospitality. Let her wonder at his lack of manners.

Her lips twitched and she curled them inwards, biting the bottom one at the left side in almost the exact place where Gui’s own lips had split and been forced crookedly back together. Gui folded his arms across his chest. He leaned back against the wall. The girl continued to stare at the bowl. Presumably anything was better than looking at Gui’s ruined face. He regretted now having asked her to stay. Solitude was better than silence and an unwilling companion.

‘Why won’t you talk to me? Did your soaking earlier cause you to lose your voice?’

She dragged her eyes away from his hands to finally meet his eyes. At least she was no longer glaring.

‘We’ve all been told not to speak to you.’

‘You’re speaking to me now,’ Gui pointed out triumphantly.

She gave him an evil look, furious at being tricked.

‘Only because to not answer your questions would be rude. I wouldn’t do otherwise. I won’t do again.’

‘You heard me tell your prioress why I’m here.’

She nodded.

‘Aren’t you curious which of your companions I’m looking for? I suppose there is no way I can persuade you to help me identify the woman I am here for.’

She scowled. ‘Why would I help you take a woman forcibly from her home?’

‘I will find out anyway.’

‘You’ll do it without my help.’

Gui smiled. ‘Do you know where I had travelled from when we met each other?’

Another shake of the head.

‘I came from York.’

The girl drew a sharp breath. His words were significant to her. She knew the woman who came from there. She quickly rearranged the bowl and goblet on the table, eyes firmly on what she was doing. Gui gave a curt laugh, devoid of humour, and settled back on the stool, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

‘Did you volunteer to serve me or were you sent?’

‘I was sent,’ she admitted cautiously. ‘Why?’

‘I thought you might have been coming here to thank me for not revealing how we met. Is that why you came?’

‘No, I did not!’

He licked his lips and grinned.

‘Do many of the women here spend their time dancing around in fields and singing to themselves? It seems out of keeping with the devoutness of your choice of life.’

The girl paled and muttered something beneath her breath. Gui couldn’t be certain, but thought he heard the word choice.

‘I wonder if this frostbitten welcome is because of who I am,’ he pondered aloud, ‘or whether the same would be extended to any man who dared enter this female sanctuary.’

‘Sanctuary!’

The word exploded from the girl with the violence of an arrow loosed from a bow. She pushed herself from the stool, knocking it over in the process, and spun away from the table. She faced the slit of window, eyes turned towards it. The window was large enough to admit light into the cell, but high enough to prevent the occupant viewing the world beyond. Her hands were by her side as she craned her neck, her fingers curling and uncurling at her skirts.

She wore the same shapeless grey garment she had removed by the river that hid the figure Gui had so recently been enjoying remembering. The veil she wore masked her hair and acted as a frame for a pair of angular cheekbones and a shapely jaw, but was not as heavy or austere as that worn by the prioress or the nuns who had attended her. Her clothes were plain, but not the habit of a nun or sister so she had not yet taken holy orders, if she ever intended to. He imagined sliding his hand slowly beneath the unsightly garment, running his fingertips lightly up her slender body and easing it off her until she was clad only in the clinging shift she had worn in the river. He reeled. Blinked away the vision that had struck him so unexpectedly.

Careful to make no sound that might disturb her, but desperate to draw closer, Gui pushed himself from the stool and stood beside her. She flinched, shoulders tensing as she became aware of his presence, but did not shy away. Gui followed her gaze. He was taller than she, but even he was barely able to make out the courtyard beyond the window and nothing beyond the high wall.

He remembered the joy that had filled her voice as she sang and the carefree way she had danced along the riverbank. He stepped a little closer, turning so that he was standing opposite her. She faced him with the same obstinate manner that had been apparent when she had squared up to him in the river.

‘If this is a sanctuary, it is from men like you,’ the girl snarled. ‘Normans who brutalised the countryside at your King’s orders!’

Gui sighed. ‘I told you before, I come from Brittany, further to the south and indescribably more beautiful than the flat north coast that our King hails from.’

‘It’s all the same to me,’ she snapped. ‘Men are the same wherever they are from and who can tell the difference between men from whichever part of France when they are raping and slaughtering the English?’

‘I’ve never raped!’ Gui whipped back. Slaughter in battle he would admit to, but he had never been guilty of defilement.

‘I felt your—your body! In the river when you dragged me under the water.’

Despite his outrage at what amounted to an accusation of attempted violation, Gui felt a flicker of amusement. She was truly innocent if she thought that the slight swelling that had brushed against her was the sign of a man’s arousal! If the water hadn’t been so cold she’d have had a lot more to remark on. That was one part of his body he felt no shame over, at least. He was not going to let her barefaced slander go unchallenged, however.

‘What I was doing was bathing, as I’ve told you before, and I didn’t drag you under to grope you. Besides, what you felt was a natural response. Don’t flatter yourself that it has anything to do with your charms, child.’ He was lying. He’d dwelled on her charms enough since the glimpse of what she possessed. He hoped she couldn’t see that in his eyes.

‘I’m not a child. I’m almost twenty.’ She sounded indignant. ‘If I told them what you were doing when we met, do you think you would be allowed to stay here?’

Gui exhaled loudly. Remembering the desperation in her eyes when she had feared he might reveal where she had been, he knew it was an empty threat. He hardened his voice as he towered over her. Her eyes widened, but she did not step away.

‘Shall we go together and find the prioress? Tell her you were accosted by a naked man—Breton or Norman—as you were fishing dressed only in your shift and see what difference it would make. The outcome would be the same for you, I imagine.’

They watched each other, eyes locked in challenge. They were standing closer than they had been in the river. Much closer. He could smell the slight scent of lavender, which made him want to bury his face in the soft spot behind her ear to see if she was the source of it. The room seemed to grow hotter as the intensity of her gaze held him fast.

‘What would happen to you if I told the prioress?’ Gui asked. ‘You really didn’t want me to admit to having met you, did you? I think you weren’t supposed to be there.’

It was not a threat, but her eyelids flickered. Long and pale, her lashes framed those almost colourless eyes of watery blue. He remembered how he had considered she might be a simpleton when he first saw her, but her eyes blazed with a fierce intelligence that made him draw a sharp breath. She licked her lips nervously. They were wide and soft, made for kissing. He’d bedded women since coming to England, but he never kissed them, too conscious of his scarred lip. He wanted to kiss this sprite more than he’d wanted anything for a long time. Perhaps he should do it and risk the consequences. Let Gilbert return and find his bride for himself.

‘If you kiss me now, I won’t tell anyone how we met,’ he said daringly.

‘Why would I do that?’

Gui was pleased to note it was surprise rather than disgust that sang in her voice.

‘So you can say you kissed a dweorgar and lived to tell the tale.’

She covered her mouth to hide a smile, then quick as lightning lifted on to her tiptoes, put her hands on his shoulders and pecked at his cheek. He turned his head and their lips met. It did not last more than a couple of heartbeats, but their mouths melded together, her warm lips moving in unison with Gui’s and slightly parting with an eagerness that hinted at the promise of what she could offer. He sighed with longing when she broke away.

‘I have to go.’ She ducked past Gui and headed for the door. Gui followed, reluctant to see her leave, and rested his hand on the frame, barring her way.

‘Will you tell me your name before you leave?’ he asked.

‘And risk getting into trouble?’

Gui reached for her hand and held it, not tight enough to hurt, but firmly so that he commanded her full attention. He rested his thumb on the inside of her wrist. Without his glove on would he feel her pulse racing beneath the skin?

‘Let me go!’

‘I won’t tell anyone you did. I’m good at keeping secrets.’

She looked down at his hand holding her captive. With a sudden jerk of her whole body she twisted her arm, pulling away from him. She stepped back. He held on, stepping with her as she went backwards so that they were just as close. They might have been dancing rather than arguing. Slowly he uncurled his fingers far enough for the girl to slip her hand free. She stalked to the door, pausing as she got there to turn back.

‘That is the last time you’ll touch me. If you try it again, it will go badly for you.’

Gui inclined his head in a graceful bow as the girl hurled herself out of the cell, slamming the door behind her.

It was probably for the best. As much as he craved a further, deeper taste of those lips, tempting a novice into his bed would see him damned for certain.

It was only as Gui settled on to the straw mattress in the wooden pallet that it occurred to him the girl herself was the age of the woman he was searching for. He fell into a troubled sleep, hoping fervently she was not the one.

* * *

Aelfhild pressed her forehead and palms against the wall beside the door. Her second encounter with the strange man had been just as unsettling as the first and her heart pounded with the intensity of an army marching through her body. Her wrist tingled where his fingers had touched her, though it had not been painful at the time. The memory of his hand on hers caused her chest to tighten as though the breath was being squeezed from her ribcage. The sensation was disturbing, as much for the lack of distress it had caused her as the act itself.

She glanced to the high window, seeing light flicker as the occupant paced around the room obscuring the lamp. She half-expected him to follow and continue to wheedle information out of her about the identity of his bride. A small part of her hoped he would follow and demand another kiss, despite her insistence he should not do so. Relief fought with disappointment. Before either could win she stepped hastily away from the door, determined not to be found lingering.