His brow furrowed. “Explain.”
Andressa shrugged, scooping more peas into her mouth. “It is nothing, my lord,” she said, averting her gaze to focus on her food. “Pay no attention to me. I suppose all girls believe they will be a great lady when they grow up. That is all I meant.”
He eyed her; he didn’t believe her, that was clear. There was something quite wistful in the way she’d spoken. He took a thoughtful drink of his watered ale.
“Lady Andressa du Bose,” he repeated softly. “You were born into nobility.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Where are you from?”
“Culverhay,” she said. “I was also known, once, as Andressa of Culverhay. My family home is Chalford Hill Castle, south of Gloucester.”
“Does your father know what goes on at St. Blitha?”
She shook her head. “My father is dead, my lord, as is my mother,” she said quietly. “Four years ago, in fact, this past winter.”
“I see,” he said, sensing her sorrow. “Who assumed your guardianship, then? Surely the man has checked on your welfare.”
With the peas gone, she was starting in on the juicy boiled beef. “My father’s sister assumed my guardianship upon the death of my parents,” she said. “It is she who sent me to St. Blitha.”
“Doessheknow of the conditions at St. Blitha?”
Andressa looked at him, then, and he could see the tears pooling. That told him everything he needed to know, even before she said a word. But she quickly blinked her eyes, dashing them away, not stopping to wipe anything away because that would have taken time away from eating.
“In truth, I do not know,” she said, subdued. “Even if she did, I am sure that she would not care. Shall I be plain, my lord? I was my father’s heiress. When my aunt assumed my guardianship, she quickly sent me away, as far away as she could, and now she lives at Chalford Hill while I am confined to St. Blitha. If youthink to write her for reimbursement for this meal, do not waste your time. If it pertains to me, she will not pay.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it has happened before.”
Maxton stared at her a moment before leaning back in his chair, frowning greatly. “You are her niece. If she assumed your guardianship, then she is responsible for you.”
Andressa swallowed the bite in her mouth, looking up at him with a dignity that wasn’t taught. It was inherent; one either had it or they did not. It was a steely strength, perhaps a steely strength that had kept the lady from losing all hope these past years. But he could see in her eyes that her hope in life was beginning to dim.
“I did not tell you of my situation to complain,” she said. “I told you because you asked, and because I wanted to impress upon you not to seek recompense for the money you have spent on this meal. If you wish for me to work this off, my lord, I am happy to do so. I am strong. I can sew and scrub. I can clean your clothes if you wish. I am more than willing to do almost any work you wish.”
Maxton believed her implicitly. This was not a wilting flower; he could see that. Strong, well-bred, well-spoken… his curiosity about her grew.
“That is not necessary,” he said. “It has been a long time since I have shared company with an intelligent woman. That is repayment enough.”
Now, it was Andressa’s turn to be curious. “But we’ve hardly spoken, my lord.”
“We’ve spoken enough.”
She returned to her food, hesitantly, but her attention was drawn to him. For the first time, she permitted herself to be curious about him, this savior of starving pledges. He was very handsome. In fact, she’d never seen finer. He had dark eyes, adark shade of blue that flickered in the weak light of the inn, and thick dark hair, cropped short, that had bits of gray in it around the temples. But his face… that’s what mostly had her attention. His lips were shaped like a bow, and he had a square jaw with a big dimple in his chin.
All of that male beauty was wrapped up in a man who was easily twice her size, and more than twice her weight, with fists that were nearly the size of her head. He was as powerful as he was beautiful, but there was something unsettled behind those glittering eyes. Something that suggested that the man’s soul was not at all at ease.
There was an air of mystery about him.
“May… may I ask your name, my lord?” she finally asked.
“Sir Maxton of Loxbeare,” he said without hesitation. “My family home is Loxbeare Cross in Devon.”
She smiled faintly, revealing surprisingly lovely teeth. “I fostered at Okehampton Castle,” she said. “It is also in Devon. Do you know where it is?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Of course I do,” he said. Then, he peered at her as if genuinely surprised. “Youfostered at Okehampton?”
