Chapter Thirty

"A lyce, my sweet," Montworth said in a manner more intimate than Alyce cared for as he leaned closer to her. "How fare you?" His face went from charming and bright to sad and sympathetic in the blink of an eye. "What is this I hear of Cynwulf abandoning you at a time like this?"

"He did not abandon me," she said through clenched teeth, refusing to look at the despicable man. She had been scanning the hall, ironically, looking for Janet. She had not seen her since their brief conversation earlier. Normally, this would not be a concern to her, but she had been gone an unusually long while and she had looked quite peaked earlier in the evening. If she was ill, who would take care of Henry?

"Oh, my dear Lady Alyce, we both know that is not true," he continued, his tone condescending. "Tell me how I can be of use to you. I am at your command." He reached for her hand again, but she snatched it away from his reach.

"Aelwin has been completely competent and trustworthy as my commander. I do not need your assistance." Her crisp tone and clipped words did nothing to dampen his sickly-sweet imitation of charm.

"You know I mean to be more than just commander of your armies, Alyce. Together, we can make Hawkspur a fortress to be envied." He tilted his head closer to her and raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Put your trust in me, and I can ensure Hawkspur is protected and prospers."

Alyce knew she needed to be practical, to consider what was best for everyone at Hawkspur, not just herself. Could she tolerate a life with Montworth if it meant safeguarding the future of the fortress and providing stability to the people here? If she did not bow to the pressures of the king, she risked losing everything. Wasn't it better to be at Hawkspur, even if only as the wife of the lord of the castle, using the extent of her influence over her husband for the good of the village? She may not be the sole decision maker, and the future of Hawkspur may not be exactly as she envisioned it to be, but she was more cunning than Montworth and could use her powers of persuasion to better the lives of those she loved if she stayed.

If she refused to marry Montworth and pushed the king's patience beyond reason, she could be taken completely from Hawkspur, leaving the people here to their own devices and at the mercy of the lord appointed by King Edward. And all indications were that would be Montworth, with or without her cooperation.

Either way, Montworth would win. The only remaining question was how much everyone else would lose in the process, and the answer depended on Alyce's level of self-serving stubbornness. If she refused to marry the sheriff outright, she lost any chance of stopping Montworth from making life miserable for those who did not bow to his will at Hawkspur; if she relented and agreed to the marriage, she could use what influence she had to keep her husband from completely destroying the villagers for his own gain.

Heaven have mercy, could she really do this? She felt the bile rising in her throat but swallowed it down. She was no less self-serving than Montworth if she refused. She took a deep breath and turned to face the man who might be gracing her bed in a matter of weeks if the king and queen had their way.

"Tell me, sheriff—" Alyce dug her fingernails into her palms to maintain her resolution to do what was right—"about your children. How old are they?"

"Please, Alyce, call me Luc , since we are progressing toward a more intimate relationship." He leered at her in a way that made her want to run screaming from the hall, but she dug her nails deeper into her hands as he continued his answer. "My boys are soon to be men. Alfred is thirteen and John is ten." He beamed brightly as he spoke of his sons, which Alyce decided to take as a good sign. If he had a softness for his children, perhaps there was hope that he could have compassion for others as well, including a wife.

"And are they kind boys?"

He laughed. "They are strapping lads who have no need for kindness. One look at them and the other boys know to show them respect." He put a beefy paw on her arm, "But they will adore you, don't you worry. And you will love them, all the girls do."

Alyce's head began to spin. This was a terrible mistake, but she could think of no alternative. She smiled tightly and tried not to lean away from his touch.

King Edward pushed his chair back to better see Montworth, saying, "My lady wife and I were just admiring what a handsome couple you make."

"We are honored," Montworth said, his chest visibly puffing as Alyce felt her stomach flip over, nauseating her instantly. "Do I have your blessing, Sire, to ask the lady for her hand in marriage?"

Alyce stood so suddenly that her chair nearly overturned. "I beg your pardon, Sire. I just remembered I agreed to accompany Aelwin on an inspection of the guards." She looked to her commander who was thankfully pushing his chair back from the head table, though his face showed pure confusion. "I mean no disrespect to you or the queen, but I seek your permission for my commander and me to take our leave and see to the guard. Your safety and that of the queen are of utmost importance."

The king stood and studied her for a long moment. Alyce felt her legs quivering, fear overtaking her that she had pushed the king beyond his limits. Finally, he held out his hand, which she took immediately, bending low over it and pressing a chaste kiss to the knuckles.

"Duty must prevail," King Edward said in a dismissive tone, then flicked his hand as a signal for her to leave.

"Let us be on our way, Aelwin," Alyce said, her voice shaking. Her commander extended his arm for her to precede him, then followed her as she crossed the hall as quickly as her legs could carry her without breaking into a run.

When they were free from the confines of the hall and had stepped out into the cold night, Alyce started taking deep gulps of the fresh air, ignoring the way it burned her lungs.

"My lady?" Aelwin asked. He reached a tentative hand toward her, as though wanting to pat her on the back, then seemed to think better of it.

"I will be fine, Aelwin," she said weakly, taking a final deep breath to calm herself. "I did not mean to put you in such an awkward situation but I had to get away from everyone so I could think."

"I understand, my lady."

Alyce looked at him to see if his face was as impassive as his voice. Aelwin had been a good commander to her brother, honest and forthcoming, always at the ready to complete any command her brother gave him. He was looking at her now with the same deference and patience he always showed to Cynwulf.

"Best that we follow through with my lie lest I upset the king further," she said with a derisive smirk. "Let us inspect the guard, and I will return to my room via the parapet."

Aelwin grinned at her. "Aye, my lady," he said with a nod. "I agree an inspection is in order."

When they had made the full circle of the castle wall, greeting and speaking with each guard in turn, Aelwin accompanied Alyce to her chamber door. He nodded his head in a quick bow and bid her good night, but before he reached the stairwell to return to the parapet, he turned back to her.

"Trust takes time to build between a commander and his lo-," he stopped and smiled as he corrected himself, "his ladyship, but I wish for you to know I am at your service should you need anything."

Alyce felt a surge of emotion at the gesture of loyalty, followed by a pang of guilt. "I thank you, Aelwin, and I will do my best to be worthy of your trust." He would be disappointed in her if he knew she planned to make Montworth lord over Hawkspur. She hoped he would see the wisdom in her choice once it was made.

He nodded. "And I will do the same for you."

Alyce recalled Aelwin's wife had borne a child at the beginning of the summer. "I do not think the king wants to see us back in the hall this night. Please, go home to your family."

"Thank you, my lady," he said with a broad smile, then turned on his heel and left.

Gertie was waiting for Alyce in her chamber. She did not ask questions of her lady as she helped her to remove her gown and change into a night trail and a heavy robe. For that, Alyce was grateful. She did not have the energy to discuss her evening.

After thanking the young woman for her service and dismissing her for the night, Alyce climbed onto her bed and pulled her legs in tight to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Ffyddlon stirred from where she was sleeping on the rug before the fire and jumped onto the bed to lie down next to her mistress.

"You're feeling better," Alyce murmured, stroking the Ffyddlon's coat as the dog wriggled close to her. They lay together on the bed for a long while as Alyce did her best to come to terms with what she must do. She may have bought herself a short reprieve with her sudden departure from dinner this evening, but it would not change the fact that she would have to marry Montworth to save Hawkspur and avoid the wrath of King Edward.

She fell asleep with Ffyddlon next to her on the bed and did not awaken until the deep hours of the night. The flames in the hearth had burned down to a warm glow and a chill was beginning to settle into the room. She rose from the bed and padded to the fire to add another log, then stood and looked at the door.

Had Hawk returned to his chamber?

She started toward the door, then stopped herself.

This is madness!

The truth was like a knife cutting through her chest. She wanted him so badly, but she was Lady of Hawkspur, and she could not put her own desires above duty.

If she went to him, she would never be able to go through with marrying Montworth.

*

Hawk had stayed in the hall until the king finally retired for the night and Montworth took his leave. He wanted to follow the spineless sheriff into the night and throttle him, but he would accomplish nothing by the act other than ensuring his own demise at the hands of the king.

The queen had confided in him over dinner the decision had been made that Alyce should marry Montworth. It was the only way to ensure the stability of Hawkspur, and Alyce would gain stepsons to name as her heirs since she was the last of her family line.

He wanted to protest but knew it to be futile. He had lost his status as favored knight. The king may not have stripped him of his riches or his title, but he had been stripped of his influence. Had the situation not happened with Cynwulf, the king would likely have entertained his request to marry Lady Alyce. Edward would have been shocked by Hawk's desire to finally take a wife after all the years of rebuking the queen's match-making attempts, but he would have relented and granted his blessing.

He no longer had the right to ask anything of the king. And for what? He may have let Cynwulf escape certain death at the hands of the king while his sister watched, but in the end, he would still be executed as a traitor. With any luck, he had saved Alyce from having to witness her brother's humiliation, and that, at least, was worth the pain and humiliation he'd endured.

But he was having one hell of a time swallowing the idea of Montworth marrying Alyce. He had been unable to sleep since returning to his chamber, pacing in circles like a caged lion instead.

He was driving himself mad imagining Alyce with Montworth when he heard a scratch at the door. He stopped, focusing on the sound while reaching for his sword where it rested against the bedside table. He stilled his hand when he heard a familiar whisper, recognizing Alyce's voice. Paying no heed to his state of undress, he crossed the room in two long strides, lifted the slat from its brackets, and opened the door.

He pulled her across the threshold before she could protest, shutting the door behind her and dropping the wood slat back into place.

She stood staring at him, the thin linen of a white shift visible at the neckline of the heavy robe tied at her waist. His throat went dry as he thought about how easy it would be to tug the robe loose and pull the flimsy gown over her head.

He paused to collect his thoughts, then cocked his eyebrows in question as the words she'd muttered outside his door came back to him. "Did I hear you ask, ‘What am I doing here?' while you were lingering outside my door?"

Her cheeks flushed with color, and she held his steady gaze as she untied the belt at her waist and let the robe drop to the floor. The light from the fire flickered and illuminated the curve of her body through the thin material. He inhaled sharply and moved close enough to her to cup her cheek in his palm.

"Why are you here?" He knew exactly why she was here, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Covering his hand with hers, she pressed her cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm. "I do not want to carry any regrets into my uncertain future, Hawk. Even if all I can have of you is one night, I want the memory to carry me through the rest of my days."

She was dead wrong if she believed he would let her go after tonight, but he would tell her that later.

"Make love to me, Hawk."

Her whispered words were his undoing. He scooped her up in his arms, ignoring the prickling pain caused by the pressure of his exertion on the fragile scabs across his back.

"I am at your command, my lady," he growled against her mouth as he lowered her to his bed.