The Maiden And The Warrior. Jacqueline Navin

morn, my lady. Will! Pelly!”

      In the wake of his departure, Alayna became aware of the awkward stares of the women around her.

      “My,” said Anne, “you certainly made an impression.”

      The women erupted in laughter. Alayna pulled herself up straight. Rising, she excused herself, hearing the poorly repressed snickers hissing behind her as she went.

      A short time later, she was back in her chamber with her nurse, still smarting from de Montregnier’s stinging words.

      “Ah, look at this tiny piece,” Eurice exclaimed, holding up a small tunic she had fashioned for a tot.

      “Methinks it needs some ermine,” Alayna teased, placing a strip of the stuff around the neckline.

      “Lord have mercy on us—serfs in ermine! The new master is sure to string us up if he sees that!”

      “’Tis well he does not know what we are about, for surely this fur would wilt under his dour sulk.” Alayna shrugged.

      Eurice looked at her curiously. “Do you not think he is handsome?”

      “Are you daft?” Alayna bristled. “Handsome? With all of that scowling and glowering, one can barely distinguish his features. Besides, I was too angered to notice—I swear I could hardly see for all of the red before my eyes.”

      “’Tis difficult not to notice. Even if his features were not fine, he would be appealing for his proud bearing. Did you not even notice how tall and broad he was? How strong he looked?”

      Alayna wondered what game her nurse was about. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Aye, Eurice, it did occur to me when he was dragging me into the chamber to wipe his own blood on the bed linens that he was indeed very strong. Then, later, as he was insulting and threatening me, I was quite impressed with his good looks.”

      Eurice’s smile was cryptic as she concentrated on her stitching. “Yet you did not notice his face?”

      “He is too often frowning,” Alayna snorted.

      “The man is haunted,” Eurice said.

      Alayna considered this for a moment before she stabbed her needle into the cloth once again. “Perhaps. Now he has earned himself one more ghost to plague him.”

      They fell silent, working until it was time for the midday meal. Alayna was relieved to see that Lucien was not in the hall with the others. She was, however, annoyed to learn that preparations were being made for a feast that evening. Everyone was talking excitedly about it, half in shock at the gracious way their new lord was conducting his first days in power. The people of any castle were used to war, it was a staple of life and they accepted their lot with bland resignation. Now there was tremendous relief after the ironfisted reign of Edgar. It irked Alayna to see how easily de Montregnier was winning approval.

      After she had eaten, she visited the infirmary and was heartened by the improvements she found, especially Hubert, who was recovering nicely. When she had seen to her self-appointed chores and was satisfied that she was no longer needed, she returned to her chamber and took up her needle again.

      Alayna decided not to attend the evening’s festivities. Against her nurse’s protestations, she reasoned, “I shall simply send down word to him of illness or fatigue, some excuse. I’ll not subject myself to his onerous company again.”

      “Alayna,” Eurice warned, “do not tempt him!”

      “Nonsense, he will not mind. He hates me as much as I do him. Even if it does vex him, de Montregnier would not be so coarse as to make an issue of it.”

      Eurice left her with a disapproving look. Alayna changed into a soft linen tunic, curling up by the blazing fire to sew before retiring. It felt good to put the aggravating de Montregnier out of her mind. Without warning, her peace was interrupted by the abrupt thud of her chamber door being flung open. Terrified, she sprang to her feet.

      It gave her no relief to see that it was de Montregnier who stood in her doorway, his face like a thundercloud. He pinned her with his dark glare for a moment before he spoke. “I just received word that you would not be joining us. Your message said you were ill. Odd, you seemed quite fit earlier today.”

      His voice was a low growl, snarled from between clenched teeth. It took Alayna a moment to find her voice. “Aye. I do not feel well. It is probably only fatigue, but I beg your pardon from the evening.”

      “But I do not grant pardon, lady, for you seem to have recovered nicely from whatever mysterious ailment has afflicted you. In fact, you look the very essence of health.”

      He let his eyes travel slowly as if assessing her fitness. His languid perusal made Alayna instantly aware of her flimsy shift, no doubt rendered almost transparent in the light of the fire. Blushing hotly, she turned away, grabbing her dressing gown. When she had put it on, she turned to face him once again.

      “Your manners are abominable, de Montregnier, as usual, though I do not know why I would expect a lowbred cur such as yourself to ever demonstrate anything but the rudeness you so often favor.”

      Lucien raised a brow. “That is the second time you have said that. What makes you think that I am lowborn?”

      Alayna scoffed at him with a harsh laugh. “It is obvious that you are unused to gentle company. I think you enjoy playing the rogue to shock and offend. I know nothing of your breeding, and indeed, have learned that right of birth is rarely an indication of character.”

      “Take your late husband, for example,” Lucien said smoothly.

      Ignoring his comment, Alayna continued tersely. “Your behavior speaks of your ignorance, all matters of ancestry behind.”

      “Aye, ’twould no doubt amuse you to learn of the history of my ancestors,” Lucien said darkly.

      “You act the blackheart, and then bray like an ass when called one. You are a puzzlement, de Montregnier. Were I at all interested, I would find your behavior quite curious. You are terribly inconsistent—almost as fickle as a woman!”

      Her barb hit home. His face grew dangerous. “As for behavior,” he snarled, “yours leaves much to be desired. Your lies and deceptions to avoid me are hardly admirable, though I expect no less from a woman. However, you are the widow of the late lord, and as such I require your presence at the feast. You look well enough to me. Your previous incapacitation seems to have been resolved. Now, dress promptly and join us in the hall. I will wait the meal for you.”

      “Nay!” Alayna exclaimed, incensed at this arrogant command. “I will not play the lady of the castle when you sit as its lord.”

      Lucien moved forward with the unexpected swiftness of a cat until he stood just before her. She had to tilt her head back to meet his glaring look. Up close, she could see his eyes were a clear brown with dark lashes, unusually long for a man. Trying to look undaunted, Alayna forced her chin up.

      “Do not play this game again with me, lady, for you know well you cannot win. I will have your presence in the hall this night at my side. Think on the privileges you now enjoy, for I have been more than generous in allowing you your freedoms. These are arrangements I can easily alter.”

      Her eyes widened at this threat. Before she could muster a suitably caustic reply, he spoke again, his eyes softened as a teasing light appeared. “Your rebelliousness surprises me. It is most foolish. Though you have many faults, stupidity does not seem to be one of them. You would do well to try and please me. Is that not what your sex excels at? Cultivating power by weaving charm about a man, much like a spider wraps its prey in her web before devouring it. And who knows, demoiselle, perhaps you will not find my favor all that onerous.”

      “What makes you think I would ever want the least favor from you?” Alayna gasped. “You men think so highly of yourselves, assuming any woman would be flattered to be graced by your attentions. Well, some of ’my sex’ care not a whit about pleasing a man. Make no mistake, your good graces are the furthest