Alice hesitated and then gave an impish smile.
“Yes, I will. But if Radulf finds out, have no doubt that I will lay the blame squarely on your head, Lily. Despite what you believe to be my ‘ignorance,’ I feel sure he will restrain himself with you, whereas he may well turn me over his knee!”
Lily laughed softly and reached out to take Alice’s hand. “Thank you. I am in your debt. If there is ever anything I can do for you . . .”
Alice’s smile wavered. “You can tell me why it is that all the men I like are unsuitable.”
Lily frowned. “Do you mean Jervois, Alice?”
The girl flicked her a glance and then sighed.
“He is rather nice, is he not?”
“He has always been so to me. He is the son of a mercenary, I believe; Radulf relies on him a great deal.”
Alice’s eyes brightened. “Well, Radulf is rich, so there is a start! I have to marry a rich man, Lily. My father and uncle would never agree to anything less, but all the wealthy men I have met, I do not like.”
Lily clasped her friend’s hand. There was little she could say in comfort. In all probability Alice would marry a man she merely tolerated, at best.
Being practical, Alice would make the best of it.
Perhaps that was better than the risk of being wed to a man you loved and who did not love you. At least then you would be spared the heartache.
Love—now there was a dangerous word. Lily shivered as if she was cold.
Radulf stared into the flames, a mug of ale in his hands. Soon he would leave for his assignation at St. Mary’s Chapel—to meet the Lady Anna, that lovely viper. That very persuasive viper.
He wondered suddenly if Lord Kenton knew of the meeting, then dismissed the thought. Kenton might be jealous but he was a fool—he must be, to have wed Anna. Or perhaps he was in love with her as Radulf had once been. That blind, heedless love that concealed the beloved’s faults behind a screen of sickly-sweet perfection.
Radulf blinked down at the ale mug and saw that his fingers were clamped so hard about it that his knuckles were white and the soft metal had dented. Carefully, methodically, he straightened his fingers one by one. This was not a good sign. If his very thoughts could arouse such anger, would he be able to keep his temper when he met her face to face?
He would keep his temper, because he had to. He would meet her and tell her that it was over. Tell her in a way that even someone as self-obsessed as she would understand and accept. For much of his adult life he had carried this guilt and pain within him, and half of it was rightly Anna’s. He was tired of the burden.
Perhaps it was finally time to take it out, look at it, and then put it away forever.
Radulf transferred his fingers to his eyes, pressing at the ache behind them. His head throbbed and he did not want to go out in the chill night. He would much prefer to spend the evening in Lily’s bedchamber. Her body welcomed him even if she did not, but one day, he vowed, he would slide under the shield of her cool gray gaze, and make her his captive.
He was already her captive, or near enough, though she didn’t know it. He wanted her more now than he had in the beginning. God help him if she ever found out. The great Radulf, her slave!
How she would despise him . . .
“My lord?” It was Jervois, his voice a respectful murmur. “The time approaches.”
Radulf looked up. Jervois was in his confidence.
His captain knew him as well as Lord Henry, maybe better, for they had spent more time together. They had fought together, seen each other’s weaknesses and strengths. He had trusted Jervois with his life on more than one occasion.
“Where is my wife?”
Jervois showed no surprise at the sharpness of the question. “She is in her chamber with the servant girl. Do you wish me to bring her to you?”
“And the other . . . Alice. Where is she?”
“She has gone, my lord. She left with her servant a while ago.”
Jervois had seen only Alice’s back as she slipped through the door. Her veil had been wrapped modestly about her head and throat, her head had been bowed. He had called out a farewell to her, and then shaken his head impatiently when she didn’t answer.
Had her heart, too, beat a little faster when their eyes met?
