His glance skewered her, but she was too intent, and she did not falter. Seeing this, he almost smiled— bitterly. “I see you are eager to impart your thoughts. Please continue.”
She smiled, a quick, lightning smile. “She will be your downfall, my lord—our downfall. She is here among us, yet she is a spy—she is too dangerous. You have few choices. Truly, if she were a man, she would already have hanged. As you can see, this guard you have set upon her has failed you. Therefore, you must lock her away, forever.”
“Or?”
“Or you can marry her to a Scot. Or a Frenchman, an Irishman. But she must be far, far away, where she can do you, and us, no harm!”
“My thoughts,” Rolfe said, “exactly.” And his mask disappeared, his eyes blazed with fury.
Rolfe was livid.
He was enraged, and not because the two Saxons had dared to sneak into Aelfgar under his own nose. That showed their daring—in fact, he respected it, and would remember well their unpredictability for the future. This was cause for concern and reflection, not rage. His anger was centered on Ceidre.
She had again betrayed him. She was risking her neck. She knew what she did. Did she truly think he would be so lenient with her again? Lenient! Rolfe remembered the ten lashes, the eternity he had stood there and watched her suffer, and knew he could not endure to observe a like punishment again. She must sense this! How else would she dare to continue to play the traitor?
She did not know that he had, in truth, protected her the last time from his own king and had, in so doing, violated his own strict code of ethics, himself committing a breach through omission that bordered on treason. This could not happen again. He would not let it happen again.
He paced the chamber. Alice had been sent out. He understood his wife now, and believed her. Like himself, Alice was ambitious. They both coveted the power Aelfgar gave them. He had not seen her as an ally before, just as a nuisance. Now he realized she was his ally, and a valuable one. Her ambitions could rest fulfilled only as long as his did. He had told her not to do anything regarding the matter they had discussed and to keep her spy’s ears open and mouth shut. This was exactly the kind of spy Rolfe needed to protect himself and his position at Aelfgar. It was an unexpected boon, an unexpected gift from his wife.
What was he going to do with that witch? He wanted to punch the wall, but recalled too vividly the pain he had endured the last time she had aroused him so, when he had slammed his fist into the trestle table downstairs. He managed to restrain himself.
Alice had assessed the situation shrewdly—he was impressed. Ceidre was dangerous. She was worse than a spy, because she hated him personally. He knew this, had always known it. His guarding of her had failed once, it would fail again. In truth, there were two options, as Alice had pointed out—lock her away, or marry her off and send her away.
He cursed savagely. He could not do the latter. He refused to analyze why he could not exile her through a marriage. The first choice was distasteful too. Yet he could not keep the situation as it was. Hadn’t he reached this conclusion this afternoon at the creek? Now, understanding how Alice would truly serve him well as a wife, there was added incentive to rid himself of the other. Either that or protect her now, and protect her again, and again. Until he, Rolfe de Warenne, ceased to function as the king’s man.
This time would be easy. He could make up an excuse to Alice, that Ceidre would lead him to some goal, perhaps to her brothers, and this was the reason he was pretending he did not know of her last act of treason. Such a lie. He would harbor and protect a traitor? For the second time? It was incomprehensible, unbearable!
He was Rolfe de Warenne, the eaorl of Aelfgar. He had followed William to Normandy for everything he now had. Because of Ceidre, he had already lost half of his holdings, the castellanship of York. Alice was right —she would be his complete downfall if something were not done. He had realized this for some time, yet now he must confront the situation.
He could not continue to protect her as he harbored her in their midst. He could not. It violated his every ethic. He was ceasing to be an effective commander, ceasing to be a leader, losing his values, his courage, his resolution. Always, in his life, he had known what was right and what was wrong, and always he had acted accordingly. Now nothing was clear.
No, he thought, as his mind shrewdly grasped another straw, one thing was clear. If he did not protect her, someone else had to.
Rolfe suddenly smiled at the solution that presented itself. He strode to the door, flung it open, and bellowed for Guy.
“What?” Guy gasped, paling.
Rolfe smiled again, the smile cool, ruthless. “You will marry Ceidre,” he said softly.
Guy gaped.
“The banns will be posted tomorrow,” he continued relentlessly. “You will wed the day after. Do not worry about dispensation. I grant it now.”
Guy somehow recovered, but there was no mistaking his abhorrence. “Yes, my lord.”
“I will provide the dowry, of course.” This time Rolfe’s smile was genuine. “The parcel that is Dumstanbrough—with the village, of course. We will ride over your borders tomorrow. As for services—I need you now, Guy, as you well know. This year you will give me three hundred of your days. You know I am fair. If Aelfgar is secure next year, we will reduce it accordingly.”
Guy was now flushed with pleasure. Like most knights, this was his dream come true. It did not matter that Dumstanbrough was a tiny hamlet of a dozen huts, at most. What mattered was that now he had his own honor, small as it was. He would have his own men, eventually, when he could afford them. For now, to have Dumstanbrough was enough. His page would be his number-one man, and he would be promoted and given his spurs. “Thank you.” Guy gasped, going down on one knee and taking Rolfe’s hand. He kissed it.
“Up, up,” Rolfe said, pleased. “Now we must talk, seriously.”
Guy nodded, all attentiveness.
“Ceidre will bear watching, Guy.”
“I know,” Guy said quickly. “Do not fear, my lord, she will not betray you, or me, again.”
Rolfe nodded. He knew Guy would not hurt Ceidre, just as he doubted Guy could curb her activities. Of course, if he kept her pregnant she might mellow considerably. He hated that thought, so he shoved it away.
