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“As far as your second insistence is concerned, I provided you with the information you lacked simply because I could tell how much you longed to know the details of your father’s last days. Recalling my experiences at the Battle of Wilton is not something I do often. The memories are unpleasant and, to this day, occasionally rob me of sleep. Pity is not a strong enough motivator for me to willingly entertain those thoughts.” Her eyes had not left his, and he knew he must finish before the stableboy returned. “Your third assertion should be the easiest to address, yet somehow, it is the hardest.” He took a breath. “I asked you to join me in the carole because not only did I wish to dance with you above all the other ladies in the great hall, but I also wished to dance with you above my normal desire to remain seated.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and it seemed to him that her lips might be trembling.
“Is that truly so difficult to believe?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
The rustle of the stableboy’s footsteps in the straw was drawing nearer.
Brecc wanted to ask why she would ever have reason to doubt her worth, but there was no time for that discussion now. “We will speak of this again,” he said. “Until then, I would have you know that if my legs were not longer than Rheged’s, he would have beaten me to your table this evening. And if I had not had the good fortune to see you slipping away, he would have held you captive in the great hall with his entertaining stories, and I would have been left awaiting a turn to speak with you whilst simultaneously wishing that the curative you gave him had not been nearly so effective.”
At her tremulous smile, Brecc’s heart swelled. Flooded with the overwhelming desire to kiss her, he tightened his grip on her hand and drew her closer. Then reason stumbled into the circle of candlelight in the form of the stableboy.
“’Ere you are, sire.” The lad held up a ragged blanket that smelled strongly of horse.
Brecc released Aisley’s hand and attempted to gather his wits. “I thank you,” he said, taking the blanket.
The boy bobbed his head and waited expectantly until Brecc draped the blanket across his shoulders.
“We had best be on our way,” Aisley said.
It was a good reminder.
“I shall return the blanket on the morrow,” Brecc told the stableboy.
“Right you are, sire.” The lad bobbed his head a second time and then heaved open the door. “Good evenin’ to ya both.”
CHAPTER 12
AISLEY LAY ON HER PALLET, staring up at the shadowy outline of the rafters above. Beside her, Diera slept peacefully, her even breathing an echo of the gentle snoring coming from their mother’s pallet. Aisley had been under her covers with her eyes closed when her mother and sister had returned from the great hall the night before. Their whispers had been loud enough for Aisley to gather that Wulfhere had been as disgruntled about the brooch he’d received from the king as their mother had been. Diera had made no protestations. She rarely did. Especially if the end result involved the acquisition of fine things.
Grateful that they’d assumed she was asleep, Aisley had shut out the murmuring and allowed her thoughts to dwell on Brecc. In the quiet of the stables, he’d held her hand and promised to tell her the truth. She wanted to believe his kind words, but trusting one man’s declaration over years of comments that had convinced her she was inferior was difficult. Mayhap that was why she loved working with healing plants. In that sphere, she knew she excelled and could make a genuine difference. Her mother grudgingly admitted that Aisley’s skills had likely surpassed her own. But in all other ways, Aisley fell short. She was not so pretty or tall or elegant as Diera, not so outgoing or confident as Wulfhere. Indeed, up until her recent interaction with Brecc, Aisley had been largely overlooked in public settings.
She had learned to expect the lack of attention; she was comfortable with it. The way Brecc made her feel, however, was not comfortable at all. She placed her hand on her stomach, hoping the extra weight would calm the fluttering that began whenever she considered the way he had looked at her in the stables, or the way it had felt to have her hand in his.
No, this sensation was not at all comfortable. Stifling a groan, she rolled onto her side. It would be horribly cold outside her covers, but continuing to lie here awake would be even more torturous.
The decision made, she donned her outerwear with as much speed as her fumbling fingers allowed. Not wanting to awaken anyone else, she picked up her shoes and tiptoed across the room. Opening the door, she stepped outside. The winds had abated, and a frosty silence hung over the buildings on the royal estate. Pausing long enough to put on her shoes, she tucked her hands beneath her cloak and stepped onto the path.
The first sounds of morning reached her as she walked. A bird singing from a treetop, a horse neighing in the stables, the clatter of pans from the kitchen, and a woman’s voice—likely the cook—scolding someone for being too slow. The servants were already hard at work. It would not be long before the paths between buildings were filled with people.
Passing the kitchen, Aisley continued toward the stables. Footsteps approached, coming from the direction of the men’s longhouse. Raising her hood, Aisley lowered her head slightly. Given the choice, she would rather not engage in conversation with a stranger. Especially while she was alone.
“Aisley?”
Her head shot up. “Ealdorman Rheged!”
“Rheged,” he corrected. “Please call me Rheged.”
“Very well.” She studied his face. He had color in his cheeks—no doubt enhanced by the cold air—and the listless look was gone from his eyes. “I am glad to see you so much improved from the time I saw you at the market.”
“Aye. That was a rough go. I am indebted to you for your assistance.”
“Not at all.” She eyed him curiously. He was without a cloak and carried a long sword in his belt. “May I be so bold as to inquire where you are off to?”
“You may.” He patted the sword at his side. “I was forcibly reminded only a day ago that my swordsmanship could use some work. I thought some early-morning practice would be worthwhile.”
“Such diligence is impressive.”