“Thank you, Penrod,” she said with a tiny dip. Her manners showed the grace of a true lady, which he’d seen lacking when she’d been hollering over the edge of the turret. The contrast of refinement with bravado fascinated him.
Gerhard of Bavaria, the man who’d led their army to attack Hohenzollern,lifted his voice from the bailey below. “Remember, any woman you touch, you marry! Take your time and choose wisely. We will line them up against the wall for the picking.”
The idea of Daisy joining the lineup made him clench his fists at his side.
Her eyes widened in horror at the pronouncement. She started toward the edge at a run, as if to jump off the tower.
He lunged forward and caught her about the waist. “Fear not, Lady Daisy, I’ll not allow you in that assembly. I will claim you as my own wife,” he said, deciding in that moment he would never trust her to anyone else.
Her face turned pale and she jerked free. “What?” she exclaimed, looking alarmed. “No! I cannot. I am meant for no man,” she said in rush.
“Oh, yes, my lady. Every woman will leave here with a man. The princess has bargained for the safekeeping of the women and Gerhard has promised her they shall all go as wives, not slaves.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I cannot marry.”
He stiffened. “Do you already have a husband?” Why did that idea irritate him? He should be happy she had a man to look after her so he didn’t need to take her on.
“No. The princess and her father before her granted my freedom from marriage. I was never to wed.” She tucked her arms around her torso, shivering from the cold.
“You are a nun?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, grasping onto the idea. “I’m married to our lord.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You may be skilled at archery, but lying is not your gift. I’m sorry, but you leave here today as a bride, whether to me or someone else.”
“I cannot,” she whispered.
The more she argued with him, the more determined he became to keep her. “My name is Sir Barrett. My birth was not legitimate, but I am the son of a prince and I serve as the commanding knight at Rothburg, where my half-brother rules. I also earn a living as a mercenary at times, so I have enough silver to keep you as you are accustomed and I will do my best to ensure your comfort and happiness.”
“He is a fair and kind master,” Penrod piped in.
He smiled at his squire. “Thank you, Penrod.”
The lady flushed. “Sir, I did not mean to question your suitability. I am sure you would make a most chivalrous husband. I just cannot marry a man.”
“Do you love another?”
“No, sir,” she exclaimed, so quickly that he had no doubt of the veracity of her words.
“Well, look around. If you see another man you prefer, I will release my claim.” His teeth clenched as he spoke the last words.
She cast her eyes out to the bailey, but gave her head a small shake. “Please, I will go as your servant, but I do not wish to be a wife. I will serve in your kitchens, or wherever you have need of me.”
He frowned. “No. You are a lady and you will be treated as such. You will come as my wife. Enough arguing, now. You are freezing out here. Let’s gather the rest of your things before they are taken like your harp,” he said, grasping her elbow and propelling her toward the door.
“Sir Barrett,” Penrod said, trailing behind. “Should I look for a wife?”
“I don’t know, Penrod,” he said, as they stepped down the spiral staircase. “It seems to me like you have just discovered the fun of rolling a serving girl in the hay. Are you sure you’re ready to care for a wife? It’s a big responsibility, and one I would not allow you to do poorly.”
“Why did you decide to take a wife now? You always said you wouldn’t.”
He felt Daisy’s eyes on him, waiting for the answer. “I would not trust her keeping with any of the other men,” he answered lightly. He couldn’t explain the other reasons because he didn’t understand them yet, himself. Daisy was special—he’d known it the moment he laid eyes on her. She was a bundle of contradictions—a refined lady who shot a bow and arrow and played the harp. His attraction went beyond her beauty or her courage. Perhaps it lay in the combination of it all—along with the underlying vulnerability that made him want to protect her to the death.
“Where is your chamber?” he asked when they arrived at the base of the stairs.
She darted a nervous glance at him and swallowed. “Over here,” she said, leading him to the main floor, then up the stairs of another tower. She opened the door to what must be the maiden’s room, an expanse of six pallets and trunks lining the floor. “This is mine,” she said, pointing to one of the trunks.
He shook his head. “We cannot bring the entire trunk. You’ll have to pick your favorite things and a dress to change into now.” Because he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her walk through the castle in those leggings. He’d be beating the men off her.
