“What does that matter, as long as he is unharmed?” Leonie demanded.
“But to dothis, my lady!”
“Hush, Wilda!” Leonie snapped. “He will return any moment and hear you.”
“Better that than what will happen after the deed is done,” Wilda muttered.
But Leonie was no longer listening. She opened her medicine basket and found the herbs she required. No sooner had she stirred them into the wine than Rolfe returned from mass with Damian. He eyed her darkly, knowing how she felt about the tourney.
“Will you ready yourself now, my lord?” Leonie asked.
“Will you help?” he rejoined skeptically.
“If you like.”
Rolfe shook his head. “I swear I will never understand you, Leonie. Damian will dress me. From you, all I ask is that you have more faith in me.”
“Your skill and ability were never in doubt, my lord, only your state of health. Please drink this and I will cease to worry.”
He eyed the cup of wine warily. “I need no special potions, Leonie.”
“It is only a few herbs to give you strength. Please,” she beseeched earnestly. “This is the least you can do for me to relieve my mind. What harm can there be in a few herbs?”
He grabbed the cup from her and drank it. “Now will you cease worrying?”
“Yes,” she replied meekly and handed the cup to Wilda, whose eyes rose heavenward over her lady’s performance.
It was not long before the sleeping draught began to take effect. Damian became alarmed when Rolfe started swaying on his feet. Rolfe, confused by his sudden tiredness, allowed them to help him to bed. Relieved, Leonie thought that was the end of the matter.
But Rolfe grabbed her wrist before she could step away from the bed.
“What—what did you do to me, Leonie?”
His eyes, heavy-lidded, still managed to pierce her. He knew. There was no point in denying it.
She said staunchly, “I saw to your safety, my lord, since you would not.”
“I swear…too far…this time.”
His hand slowly released her and his eyes closed. His words had been jumbled, but she understood. She had gone too far.
“You did this, my lady?” Damian was staring at her incredulously.
“Yes.”
“He will kill you!”
Leonie paled. Damian understood what she had done, but not why. Rolfe would know why, but he would not care. It would not matter to him that shecouldn’t bear the thought of his having another injury. He was under the misconception that no harm could come to him, and if he wouldn’t admit that his strength was not fully recovered, he wouldn’t admit that she was justified.
It was too late to regret her impulsive decision. Damian was right. He would kill her. Rolfe was a soldier. What she had done was unforgivable.
“I must speak with Sir Piers,” Leonie said as she started for the door.
“Do not tellhimwhat you have done!” Damian warned her. “He will strike you down.”
“Then I will see the king.”
It was Sir Piers who tried to stop Leonie from leaving the castle without waiting for Rolfe, and it was Sir Piers who finally escorted her to Westminster Hall when he saw that she would go alone if he did not accompany her. She told him nothing of what had happened, for she had no doubt that Damian was right about him.
