Promised to the Crusader. Anne Herries

was hardly a wife. Zander could never break the vow he’d made to avenge his father. In his heart he knew that the enemy he faced was treacherous and so powerful that even he might not survive the fierce fight that must ensue.

      Zander was determined to challenge his enemy to single-handed combat, but first he must regain his strength. Janvier had made him more of the cure with the herbs Elaine had given them and, again, Zander felt an improvement. He was not so easily tired and yet still he could not swing his great broadsword with the strength he would need for battle. Much as he wanted to destroy his enemy, he was not yet ready.

      Elaine was stirring. He was torn between leaving her and yet he stayed, wanting to see her wake. Her eyelids flickered and he noticed how dark her lashes were despite the fairness of her hair, then her eyes opened and she looked at him. the smile of wonder and joy that spread from her eyes over her face cut Zander to the heart; it was the smile he recalled so well, the smile that had helped him through the pain-racked nights, drawing him back from the very mouth of hell. It was her smile that had kept him hanging on by a thread, his spirit almost done, the pain so terrible that his body craved the peace of death—and yet he had lived. He had lived because she lived, and now he would live to serve her if he could.

      ‘Zander…’ The note of wonder in her voice made him frown. ‘I dreamed of you…but you are here…’

      ‘I am real, but not as you knew me.’

      Elaine sighed and his heart caught with pain as he saw the joy and the wonder drain from her, leaving only sadness and uncertainty.

      ‘I am sorry to wake you, lady,’ he said. ‘But we should be leaving soon. I have sent scouts on ahead to see if Newark hath taken your manor and lies in wait, hoping to draw you into a trap.’

      ‘And if he has?’ Elaine was fully awake now, modestly drawing the sheet to her chest as she sat up. ‘I do not know where else to go.’

      ‘I have little to offer you. I think my father’s manor may be almost a ruin—but Anne would take you back here until I could find somewhere suitable for you to live.’

      ‘My lands are all I have.’

      ‘I brought a fortune home, as I promised you, Elaine. If my father’s manor lies in ruin, I shall buy a house worthy of you. One that hath stout walls, a moat and a gate that can be drawn up.’

      ‘But…’ Elaine blushed. ‘I should not wish to be a burden to you if…’

      ‘You could never be that,’ he said. ‘I shall leave you to dress, but I pray you come down to the courtyard swiftly, for I would be away.’

      He turned and left her, his mind in turmoil. If Newark had stolen all Elaine had, it might be that his only course was to wed her. He knew her pride would forbid her to live on his charity. In that eventuality, she might be left penniless and vulnerable, forced to work as a servant for her bread. Marriage to Zander would then be the better alternative. He would honour and protect her while he lived—and if he died his fortune would be hers. To protect her he would appoint Philip of Stornway as her guardian.

      Zander’s heart thudded against his ribs as he went down the twisted stair to the great hall, which was a scene of activity as men prepared to leave with him. Armour and supplies had been loaded onto the packhorses, and knights were already wearing their coats of chainmail beneath their tabards.

      Zander saw his squire talking with Lady Anne. She was laughing and talking animatedly, her face alight with interest as she listened to Janvier’s words. Janvier turned his head and saw him; he bowed to the lady and walked towards Zander.

      Zander caught the look of annoyance on the lady’s face before it was swiftly hidden and once again he wondered. Why should Anne be angry and yet try to hide it?

      He knew that the Saracen’s family was noble, but he was penniless, stripped of his land and much he’d had by marauding knights. What little was left he had given to his mother and sister—all that was left of a once-proud family. He’d refused Zander’s offer of gold for saving his life in favour of becoming his servant, but he was a proud and clever man. By birth and intellect he was the equal of Anne of Stornway, but the colour of his skin and his lack of wealth made him a pauper in a strange land—and not a man her brother would consider fit to be her husband.

      What nonsense was he at now? He must have a touch of fever to even think of such things. If the lady could guess at what was in his mind, she would no doubt think herself insulted. Zander smiled sadly. How unfair was life? Would that respect and love were all, but in the world Zander knew pride and prejudice ruled the heart and marriages were made for land, not love.

      ‘Are you ready to leave, my lord?’

      ‘We but await my lady,’ Zander said and then something warned him and he turned to look at the stone steps that led to the solar. Elaine had taken him at his word and she was dressed, seemingly ready to continue.

      ‘You feel able to continue?’ Zander asked as she came towards him.

      ‘Yes, my lord. I am fully rested. I think we have not so far to go now.’

      ‘It is but a few hours’ ride from here,’ he said and offered her his hand. Even as she took it, Anne came up with them.

      ‘If you wished, Lady Elaine could stay until you are sure that rogue has not taken her lands. I should be glad of her company.’ Anne said, smiling at them, no trace now of the resentment he’d glimpsed earlier. ‘You know that you may trust my brother to guard her for you.’

      ‘I must go with Zander,’ Elaine said, an odd little shiver at her nape. Something told her not to stay here, though these people were clearly Zander’s friends. ‘My people will not be certain they can trust him unless I am there. If they have barred the gates against Newark, they will only open to me.’