Besieged And Betrothed. Jenni Fletcher
the same mistake twice.’
She studied him intently for a moment as if considering whether or not to ask something else, before drawing up a stool.
‘Are you hungry? We only have pottage, but I can ask one of the guards to fetch you some if you want?’
He had to stop himself from laughing again. Of all the questions he’d anticipated, that hadn’t been one of them. She was certainly one of a kind. Now that she’d taken him prisoner, she seemed more concerned with his well-being than in interrogating or making any demands of him. She looked as if she’d rather close her eyes and go to sleep instead, though if the hour were really as late, or as early, as he suspected, then it wasn’t long until dawn. Which meant that they were almost out of time. If he were going to convince her to surrender, then he had to hurry.
‘You haven’t taken many men captive, I presume?’
‘Why?’ Her expression turned guarded. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s not usual to care so much about your prisoner’s comfort.’
‘Oh... No, I’ve never taken anyone prisoner before.’
‘Then I’m honoured to be your first.’ He was gratified to see a faint blush spread across her cheeks. She’d noticed that sarcasm at least. ‘So what are we doing here, my lady?’
‘I’d like to talk.’
‘Isn’t that what we were doing yesterday?’
‘What do you mean?’ Her eyes jumped to his again, the look of exhaustion in them replaced by one of sheer, sudden panic.
He arched an eyebrow, surprised by such an extreme reaction. ‘You made quite a good defence of Stephen, as I recall.’
‘Oh.’ The panic receded slightly. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Was there something else?’
‘No! We talked, that’s all.’
‘Then what do you want from me, my lady?’
He started, struck by the sudden conviction that he’d said those words before and recently. Judging by the vibrant shade of Lady Juliana’s cheeks, she remembered them, too. Her skin was almost the same colour as her hair, as if she were embarrassed about something, but what? Just what exactly had happened between them? Surely none of the things he thought he remembered...
‘I want you to tell your soldiers to go.’ Her voice shook slightly.
‘Mmm?’ He was so busy trying to remember that he barely paid any attention to her words. ‘Just like that?’
‘Yes. Sir Guian’s, too. Tell them they have until noon to pack up and leave.’
‘Or?’
‘Or there’ll be consequences.’
‘Such as?’
‘Consequences!’
She looked so fierce that his lips twitched involuntarily. ‘You’ll need to be a bit more specific.’
‘It’s not funny!’
‘No.’
‘No, it’s not funny?’
‘No, it’s not and, no, I won’t do it. Just no.’
‘But you haven’t even considered it!’
‘I don’t need to. No.’
‘Stop saying no!’
‘Then I decline.’
‘You might change your mind when you’re hanging by your feet from the battlements!’
‘Ah.’ He gave a tight smile. There it was at last, the threat he’d been waiting for. He’d been starting to wonder if she’d even thought of one. ‘It might, though it wouldn’t make any difference. My men have their orders already.’
The colour seeped from her face in an instant. ‘What orders?’
‘The ones I gave them before we met on the drawbridge. I told you I intended to capture Haword today, though I admit this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.’
‘You can still countermand the order.’
‘I could, but it might look a little coerced if I’m hanging from the battlements.’
‘You don’t think your men will disobey orders to save you?’
‘I think they know what will happen to them if they do. I don’t tolerate disobedience, my lady. Not for any reason.’
‘Not even to save your life?’
‘Those are my rules. What kind of commander would I be if I changed them simply to save myself?’
‘I’ll tell Sir Guian, then.’ She sounded desperate this time. ‘He’ll call off the attack. He never wanted to fight anyway.’
‘True, but I think he’d enjoy the spectacle of me hanging by my feet too much to do anything to stop it. Besides, my men don’t take orders from anyone else. With or without Sir Guian’s permission, they’re coming.’
She shot to her feet so quickly that her stool toppled backwards, landing with a clatter on the floorboards. There were no rushes, he noticed, something else they must have run out of. After four months of siege, it appeared that both castle and chatelaine were reaching the end of their tether. He could see tension in every line of her body, as if she might snap at any moment.
‘What difference would it make even if they did retreat?’ He kept on pushing, hardening his heart against the bizarre urge to offer comfort instead. ‘You’d only buy yourself a few days, a week at the most, before the Empress sends them back again.’
‘Maybe that’s all I need.’
It was only a murmur, but enough to make his brows snap together at once. Was that why she was so determined to hold out then, because she was waiting for reinforcements? The last he’d heard, Stephen’s forces had been busy fortifying coastal defences against the threat of Angevin landings, but perhaps she knew something he didn’t. If Stephen were heading back into Herefordshire, then it made capturing Haword even more vital. In which case, he had to persuade her to surrender now...
‘What’s that?’ She twisted her head at a clamouring sound from outside, the clanking of metal over the dull hum of voices.
‘Take a look.’
He nodded towards the window and she ran towards it, unlatching the shutters and flinging them wide. Even from across the room he could hear her sharp intake of breath.
‘What are they doing?’
‘Hard to say from here, but at a guess I’d say they’re preparing for battle. I’d suggest that your men do the same.’
‘But I don’t want to fight!’
‘Then surrender. My offer still stands.’
She spun around, eyes widening with amazement. ‘You’d forgive me after I drugged you?’
‘Apparently so.’ He surprised himself with the answer. He could forgive her, though mercy alone knew why. ‘Although I think we can keep that part between ourselves.’
She stared at him mutely for a few seconds, her expression veering between defiance and uncertainty, before she reached into the folds of her gown and drew out a slim, though still lethal-looking dagger.
‘No.’ Her face took on a look of resolve. ‘I’m the chatelaine and this is still my castle. We’re going to the battlements.’
Lothar