Alicia shook her head and regarded the half-packed baggage chest. She had gowns enough for her retirement upon her dower manor, indeed too many. Her estates, although prosperous, were a backwater compared to the border violence of her former husband’s holdings. At least she could be alone with her unseemly hunger.
‘What about this belt, my lady. Shall I put … ?’ Agnes stopped and bobbed a curtsy.
Alicia turned round and her heart began to drum to a battle beat.
Miles le Gallois studied the travelling chests, open to reveal their neatly packed contents – clothes, cups, vials, combs and embroidery. His eyes ranged over the strewed bed and the bare clothing pole, then returned to Alicia. ‘If it is on account of me,’ he said, ‘there is no need. I am leaving tomorrow.’
Alicia mutely shook her head.
‘I need to talk to you alone,’ he said and as she answered him with stricken eyes, added, ‘you may tie me up if you wish, but I swear on my honour not to harm you.’
Alicia carefully folded the veil she had been holding and, after a hesitation, drew a deep breath and gestured Agnes to leave. The maid’s mouth thinned, but she dropped a curtsy and retreated beyond the thick woollen curtain.
Miles sat down on the bed and picked up the veil that Alicia had so painstakingly folded. ‘Last time we were alone I acted like a green youth in rut,’ he said. ‘I have come to apologise if you will accept.’
‘There is no need of apology,’ she said in a low voice, ‘unless it be mine.’
‘Alicia, look at me.’
Wearily she raised her lids. Her eyes were the colour of twilight and storms and full of vulnerability.
‘Do you think that it has gone unnoticed? For the sake of our children, we must come at least to a truce.’
‘Why do you think I am going to my dower lands?’ she replied.
‘Because you are running away?’
Her mouth twisted. ‘Not for the reasons you think.’
Miles unfolded the veil. It was made of fragile gauze, the embroidery edging it skilfully worked in gold thread. ‘You will miss her,’ he said gently.
‘She has her own life to live and will the sooner grow into a woman without me for a leaning post. In time I would become the child. Indeed, it has begun already. She shuts me from her thoughts and she is very strong willed.’
‘Not a whit like her father, is she?’ he mused.
There was a hesitation that made him look up. Alicia’s face had blenched. Then she rallied, smiled and drew a shaky breath. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’ She turned her face into the shadows. ‘There are many similarities.’
Something rang false. Memory searched and pieced disjointed fragments. ‘Who is he?’ Miles asked.
He saw the silent vibration of her shoulders. ‘That is my own affair,’ she answered in a choked voice.
‘And mine too since it will touch the blood of my grandchildren.’ He rose and went to her and turned her to face him.
‘And if I say a baseborn groom or a passing pedlar?’ she challenged.
‘If that were true, you’d not have denied me the day of the boar hunt.’
Alicia shook beneath his light touch, knowing what she risked if she told him the truth.
‘Does he still live?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does he know?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘To him it was a night of pleasure, a comfort along the road to be forgotten in the dawn.’
‘And to you?’ He watched her with checked tension.
