She refused to consider other possibilities along that line. Her host and husband could have simply seduced her, if he had been driven by desire alone. It had not been necessary to marry her, much less to surrender his ring toher.
No, she refused to believe that he was alreadywed.
He could be falsely accused of a crime. That was a promising possibility. But who might bring a false charge against a man evidently sohonorable?
Perhaps a womanspurned.
If so, her spouse might not be certain which side she would take in thefray.
But she was his wife. And he had ensured that she had no grounds for an annulment. Annelise’s skin tingled with the memory of his touch. Her spouse had seen to her earthly needs in a way far beyond any expectation and had given her hope for a marital future blessed withlove.
Annelise was wed, for better or for worse, yet she would not abandon her hope of love inmarriage.
Indeed, if he feared that she might recoil from some truth in his nature or his past, she could prove otherwise to him. His battle could be hers. What better way to earn his love than to banish whatever demon haunted him? She would aid him, clear his name, appeal to the king, do whatever was necessary to have him fully as herspouse.
But first Annelise had to discover precisely who her husbandwas.
She examined his belongings, telling herself that the greater cause justified the intrusion. He could have simply confided in her, but clearly had chosen not to doso.
He had promised to tell her the truth this morning and hadnot.
Annelise was in the right—even if she felt that she waswrong.
His tunic was rich indigo and trimmed with white silk that looked somewhat the worse for wear. There were the caparisons of a size to garb the destrier in the same fabrics andcolors.
Annelise recalled the callus on his hand. Clearly, her spouse was not just a knight. He was a warrior who actually engaged in battle. As she ran a fingertip over the scarred leather scabbard of his sword, she wondered where he hadfought.
His shield was emblazoned with a white griffin on the navy ground. One of the beast’s claws was extended as though the talons would shred an attacker. Its wings were spread high, its scowlfierce.
A silver branch embellished with what Annelise thought were oak leaves hung from the griffin’s beak. A row of tiny silver-and-whitefleurs-de-lisran along both top and bottom edges of thecrest.
She traced the emblems with her finger, noting the nicks and scratches upon them. She did not recognize his insignia, but that said little, for Annelise paid scant attention to such matters of war. If nothing else, she recognized that thefleurs-de-lissignified his family’s pledge to the king of France. He was far from his origin,then.
How had he come by this palace in the forest? Who was hisoverlord?
His packs were virtually empty, with the exception of various masculine miscellany that told her little. She touched the dagger and spare shirt, found his comb, his flint, a small and very sharp knife, a coil of rope, then grimaced when she discovered some cheese that he had evidentlyforgotten.
Annelise disposed of the cheese and surveyed the stables again. Clearly, she would have need of her ingenuity to discover the identity of her enigmaticspouse.
“Would you like to go for a ride?” she demanded of thedestrier.
His ears flicked with what Annelise chose to regard as interest. She lifted the saddle to his back with some difficulty and harnessed the large beast. For once, she was glad of the days she had hidden in Sayerne’s stables to avoid herfather.
“We shall check the wall,” she informed thedestrier.
What Annelise had to do was concoct a plan and she knew that the most successful plans were reliant upon the most completeinformation.
Before the sun set, she would know every secret of thispalace.
Perhaps there was an advantage in her solitude within these walls: there was no one to stop her from herquest.
