A Knight and White Satin. Jackie Ivie

the thatch across the roof, seen the damage caused by the storm, and secured it again. Then, maybe she’d feel guilty. But not now. She had too much to do.

      It was colder the closer she got to the roof. Dallis ran the steps past her rooms, and when she reached the battlements, she could see why. It wasn’t just a storm, it was a horrific wind-driven storm. The thatch was still intact. That was a blessing. It was waving about in the wind since one of the mooring ropes had come loose. Dallis scrambled onto the merlon, settling her buttocks into a cupped area that seemed molded for them, and pulled until her arms ached. The last repair had been the cheapest, and they’d chiseled out a slight line in each crenel for the ropes to hug into. One had itched its way loose. She breathed out the relief as she caught the line and pulled it back into position, and even managed to keep her seat at the same time.

      She didn’t hear the commotion until she was finished and rounding the stair near the second story. If it was what it sounded like, she wasn’t prepared. She might never be.

      “The…meaning?”

      The stammering voice was Lady Evelyn Caruth. Her voice was old and feeble sounding and it hadn’t been earlier. It wasn’t hard to find the cause. A large retinue of men was filling the great hall, too numerous to count. They wore Dunn-Fadden colors, and they weren’t the faded, worn plaid all the clansmen about her wore. Theirs were newly woven, bright with dye, and embellished with pure silver thread if she wasn’t mistaken. If Dallis was in control of her own heartbeat, it probably would’ve stopped. Instead it thudded harder, making it difficult to breathe. She knew instantly who it was. Anyone would have.

      It was their laird, the King’s Champion…and her husband.

      “I want an accounting and I want it now. Where is the mistress?”

      “I—if you’ll allow a-a moment?” Lady Evelyn began, but he interrupted her.

      “A moment? The pipes have been blasting my arrival from the other side of the bailey. You’ve had more than enough time.”

      He wasn’t shouting. He didn’t have to. Lady Evelyn reached his midchest and she hadn’t much stiffness in her backbone anyway. She was probably close to breaking into sobs. Dallis hadn’t much time. She pulled the skirt from her belt as she took the stairs, ignoring the shaking of her hands as she did so. If she cowed the moment she saw him, he’d win. Again. That was not going to happen.

      “Here.”

      He’d taken off his fur cloak and tossed it to one of his men. It didn’t mute the sensation of his size. She remembered that. Three years and she still remembered how large, how well-defined, and just how handsome he was. And then he turned his head and saw her.

      He might as well have flung a bucket of snow melt on her for the blast of cold that happened. She must have forgotten the impact of his ice-blue eyes, but couldn’t imagine how it could’ve happened. They’d been in her dreams, shadowed her steps, and haunted her every waking moment. It should have prepared her for when she got his gaze again.

      “You there!” He was pointing at her. Dallis knew her heart stopped then. She couldn’t prevent it. All she could do was ignore it and hope it worked. She sucked for air, lifted her chin, and tossed the loose braid of hair over her shoulder. She hadn’t donned proper attire such as a wimple, a girdle, and a dress befitting her station. She rarely did, and today was laundry day so there hadn’t been a need. She didn’t let it matter. Cowardice didn’t gain a Caruth much.

      “Yes?” she answered, and was grateful her voice had no sign of the wavering every portion of her body was suffering.

      “I demand an accounting!”

      Dallis gulped. Now? He wasn’t even going to see they had privacy? It was going to be difficult enough showing where funds had gone without him guessing the truth. Her eyes went huge. She couldn’t prevent it.

      “Why is everyone mute the moment I speak with them? Fetch the mistress. Perhaps she’ll not cower in fear from me. Go! Now!”

      Dallis’s mouth fell open as what had to be shock raced through her, turning everything numb. It started at her throat, and it slithered until it reached her toes. He didn’t recognize her? Her eyes narrowed before her mouth closed. She had to look away in order to answer. This time her voice did warble. “I’ll see her fetched for you, immediate-like, my lord.”

      “See that you do. Redmond! Find my steward, Leroy. Have him brought before me as well. And stoke this fire!”

      Dallis didn’t hear the rest. She was running back up the stairs.

      His belly was burning and it transferred to his eyes as Payton looked over his keep. He’d sent a large portion of the gold he’d won and this was the result? His eyes ran over the sparse furnishing, the hangings that didn’t look to have been repaired or replaced since that fateful day, and he had to swallow the sourness back down so it could keep the lie he always harbored company. He’d expected anger, maybe hatred, but an impoverished keep and nothing in the way of a welcome? His wife had much to answer for.

      “Sir?”

      The hesitant voice belonged to the elderly woman he’d first met. Payton made her wait. And he made it a long wait. He was doing a visual inspection of his hall. From the looks of it, his wife hadn’t even seen to a repair on his roof, nor the large crack across the floor. There wasn’t even leaded glass in the window openings. There were shutters. He narrowed his eyes in consideration. The Dunn-Fadden clan he’d left here had seen to the fitting of those shutters. They fit well. Kept the drafts out…but allowed very little light in.

      The woman cleared her throat again. Payton lowered his chin and glared at her. She backed two paces from him. It didn’t give him any satisfaction.

      “What?” he finally asked.

      “That—that…was the mistress.” She waved her hand in the direction of the spiral stair.

      Payton closed his eyes, knew the sickness in his belly was due to the lie he harbored as it roved about, weakening him and making him feel like a lad again. He had no choice but to hide it. Again. “Well,” he replied finally. “My luck with women is accursed bad. As always.”

      “How so?” His vassal, Redmond, asked.

      “My keep is a ruin and my wife dresses in sackcloth. Added to that is her visage, and that she’s as plain as the day is long. What would you call it?”

      Redmond’s lips didn’t even twitch. Payton liked that about the man. Vast sense of humor. “I call it a waste of good fund. Perhaps with a good cleaning and the proper cloth?”

      “Order it, and oversee it.”

      The elderly woman gasped. Payton looked back at her. “We speak of the hall, old one. Not the wife. I’ll gird her alone. In my chamber.” His boots made little sound on the spread of rushes in the hall. That was a good sign. This Dallis knew the value of fresh sweet rushes. Good for insulation and for disguising stench. That was one mark in her favor.

      He had his foot on the first step before Redmond spoke again. “Make a scan of the woman’s sewing basket first, my laird.”

      Payton’s lips twisted as he turned back. He couldn’t help it. “I intend as much. Send a contingency of guards back to Edinburgh. I’ve decided to take His Majesty up on his offer of stonemasons and carpenters. See to that, as well.”

      “Such gifts come with strings.”

      Payton nodded. “I ken as much. Don’t come up. No matter how much screaming you hear.”

      “I’ve na’ heard you scream a-fore,” Redmond returned. “’Tis shaping into a vastly more entertaining eve than I’d foreseen.”

      Payton grinned, and turned to take the steps two at a time. They’d fashioned a tight wheel staircase. He had his left hand against the stone as he climbed. He didn’t recollect that and he’d been carrying her at the time. It wasn’t surprising. He’d been stewed, and rarely tried