She watched him chortle as the laughter died. “I am not afraid of you,” she said softly.
He stopped laughing and looked at her. “That is good. I do not want you to fear me.”
Something about the way he looked at her made her heart start racing again. She began to walk, heading away from theBeauchamp Tower. Brogan watched her for a moment before following.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She continued walking, not looking at him. “If I return home, this conversation and this day shall be over. Is that your wish?”
“Nay,” he took a couple of giant steps and ended up next to her. “I wish this day would never end.”
It was a sweet thing to say. She smiled at him. “Would you like to the stable with me and see if my naughty horse has returned? Truthfully, we should thank the beast for introducing us.”
He simply nodded. She put her hand in his elbow and off they went again.
CHAPTER THREE
“He escorted herto the stables. The last I saw, they were inspecting her horse.”
Richard and Anne sat together in the fine reception chamber, the one that smelled so heavily of myrrh and smoke. The knight they had sent to follow Avalyn when she had left earlier that morning was back, and not with pleasing news. Avalyn apparently went right back to the barracks and engaged in some kind of interaction with d’Aurilliac. It was concerning information.
“Very well,” Anne said. “Go back and continue to track her. I would know all of her movements. And do not spare the detail. But if it looks as if it is getting out of hand, you have my permission to intercede.”
The knight who had reported back on the activities of Avalyn had been with Warwick a long time; he was a legacy knight, following in the footsteps of his father and grandfather before him. Sir William Inglesbatch was a handsome man with a round face and big blue eyes. Average in height, he possessed a powerful body and a better sword hand than most. He had a natural command presence, great intelligence, a very business-like demeanor, and served close to the earl and countess. They trusted him implicitly, especially when it came to a delicate task such as this.
“Very good, m’lady,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Not at the moment.”
Though the knight quit the chamber, Anne and Richard were far from alone. There was another person with them. George,Duke of Clarence, was King Edward’s younger brother. He was also greatly at odds with his brother and had been for quite some time. Most Plantagenet families were plagued with sibling hatred and the sons of Richard, third Duke of York, were no exception. George saw his way to the throne through Richard de Neville. Richard had, after all, put his brother on the throne. He had every confidence in the Kingmaker that he would be the next in line. He had worked a very long time to achieve it.
“I would not worry over d’Aurilliac,” George said casually. “I know the man. He’s a soldier and nothing more. He has no great connections and I’ve never known the man to be involved in political intrigue. He’s a great stupid war beast and should be treated as such.”
Anne looked up at him. “Stupid?”
“Aye. Uneducated, dense.”
“He is not from a good family?”
“He is Germanic. I’m told his father was a great warrior, but the son does not have the cunning to be a true knight. He simply does as he is told, and with his enormous strength, that is a very good attribute.”
Anne nodded in understanding, but it still did not ease her. “’Tis not d’Aurilliac we are concerned with; it’s Avalyn. We told her to stay away from him and she deliberately disobeyed. If she disobeys on something as benign as this, who is to say she will not disobey when commanded on greater matters?”
George shrugged. “She has never proven herself untrustworthy before, has she?”
“Never.”
“And how old is she now?”
“She has seen twenty years.”
George threw up a hand. “There you have it. She is almost an old maid. Her great and astute mind has turned to marriage and children. Perhaps she would do better if you were to find her ahusband within our ranks, someone loyal and powerful. Avalyn is, after all, a de Neville. She has the power and knowledge to make her a very valuable wife.”
Richard, toying with a pewter goblet, glanced at his guest. “You cannot be suggesting yourself, my lord,” he said, calculation in his tone. “The last you and I spoke, we had very nearly reached an agreement between you and my daughter.”
George put up a hand; he was a small man with a bad complexion. Not particularly likable, he was nonetheless a skilled and cunning negotiator. But one had to get past the boorish personality in order to appreciate his finer points.
“And we are in agreement,” he assured Richard. “Isobel and I shall be married come summer. What I was merely pointing out is that if you betroth Avalyn, a proper husband will keep her foolish female mind from wandering.”
