Sir Aldric had finally wised up and stopped trusting me. Even so, he’d still done his best to offer me every courtesy a lady deserved. I had to give him credit for that. Although he was making me sleep outside tonight, rather than in the tent with Isabelle, he’d provided a spot away from his men and yet close to the fire.
I let my sights travel from his bicep to his broad shoulder to his neck and then to his jaw and chin and nose. Although the nick I’d given him last night wasn’t deep, guilt twisted at my stomach for having lashed out at him. I should have known I’d be no match against so strong a man. Even in sleep, he held himself rigid, his strength evident in every tense muscle. Fully clothed and still in chain mail, he had only a blanket tucked under his head for comfort.
As before, I was struck by his strong, handsome features as well as how young he was for a captain. How had he gained such a position? Where was he from? And had he left a wife behind somewhere? He was surely of an age where his parents had formed an advantageous match for him.
“You must like what you see, my lady,” came his low whisper.
The comment startled me, and my attention darted to the gauzy clouds in front of the moon. If I’d been a blushing woman, my cheeks would have been red. But thankfully, I’d mastered the ability to remain composed. “I was only plotting how I might slit your throat.”
He rolled on to his back and crossed his arms over his chest, clanking the chain and pulling it taut. “You may admit your attraction. I won’t hold it against you.”
My annoyance flared as quickly as a flame fanned by bellows—more annoyance at myself than him for being caught staring. “You think too highly of yourself.”
“I wasn’t the one staring for the past hour.”
“I have not stared for an hour.” I hadn’t stared for such lengths, had I? But even as I voiced my denial, I knew I was guilty of letting my sights drift to his face too often.
His response was a slight curve in his lips, the beginning of a grin. The first I’d seen from him. I was chagrinned to realize the upturn only added to his charm and made me want to stare at him again.
I silently berated myself. “You surely have a wife or betrothed to feed your inflated pride and have no need of further flattery.”
As quickly as his smile came, it vanished. In its place was the haunted sadness I’d noticed the first time I’d seen his face.
“My wife is dead.” His low tone told me more than any words could—that he’d loved deeply and hadn’t recovered from his loss.
From the tight clamp of his lips and the twitch in his jaw, I sensed this was the end of our conversation—if it could even be called a conversation. Up to this point, we hadn’t spoken to each other more than absolutely necessary, or at least that had been my policy during the few times he’d attempted to talk.
But for a reason I couldn’t explain, I felt as though I should say something more, that I couldn’t let the issue rest without showing a measure of compassion. He wouldn’t need my condolences or sympathy. As a strong man, he would only loathe such coddling. Instead, he would appreciate the same as I would—bluntness.
“The strongest of us feel pain the deepest.”
He stared unseeingly at the dark night sky.
“I cannot fathom what you went through, but I know I would not want to live if anything happened to my sister.”
He was silent for so long I began to consider that we would speak no more for the night.
“I did try to kill myself,” he finally whispered. “But self-destruction only makes the pain worse, especially for the other people you love.”
His words rang with wisdom borne of sorrow and pain. And I could not stop a seedling of admiration from sprouting.
“What kind of self-destruction?” I forged ahead with my blunt question. I wouldn’t ask him about his wife. That was hallowed ground, and no one deserved to tread there unless invited. But now that he was talking about his regrets, I was curious to know more about this noble captor of mine.
“I drank and gambled until I was in debt to nearly every lord in the southern part of the realm, including Lord Pitt. He gave me the chance to pay off my debts, but I squandered the opportunity. He had no alternative but to attack. The siege cost many lives and almost destroyed my family and home.” Sir Aldric grew quiet as if the memory of the past was too much to bear.
I tried to make sense of everything he’d revealed. “So you are also a prisoner of Lord Pitt? He took you captive when he attacked your home?”
“No. I handed myself over to him and bound myself to his service so I could protect my family as well as repay the debt I owed him twice over.”
I pushed myself up onto one elbow and openly studied this man, seeing him with new eyes. I didn’t know of any nobleman who would subject himself to the humiliation of becoming the bondservant of another nobleman.
“So this,” I motioned to the nearby wagons loaded with the goods he’d taken from my home. “This is how you repay your debt to Lord Pitt?”
“I have already repaid it.” He still stared straight up at the darkness overhead, the muscles in his jaw flexing.
“Then you are free to return to your home?”
“There is no reason for me to return home.”
I was tempted to ask him what had become of his family. But as with probing about his wife, I decided not to go where I had not been invited. Instead I said the only other thing that came to mind. “Do you believe you will only have one chance at love? Or will you make room in your heart eventually for another?”
“I will never make room for anyone else,” he said low and hard. “I don’t deserve another chance.” His guilt and sadness grooved lines in his forehead and at the corners of his eyes, lines I suddenly wished I could smooth out. Surely no matter his past mistakes, he could make amends and one day live a full and satisfying life again.
Before I could formulate a response, he shifted and I found myself the object of his penetrating gaze. “What about you, my lady? You speak of love. Will you have a love match with Lord Clearwater?”
His mention of Lionel startled me. “How do you know of the possibility of my union with Lord Clearwater?”
“Surely you don’t think I would set out on this mission for Lord Pitt without being fully informed regarding every detail of your father and his family.”
“Why should Lord Pitt take interest in my betrothal to Lord Clearwater?”
“Are you betrothed?” Again his gaze probed deeply.
“Not yet,” I admitted. “But it is imminent.”
“Lionel is a scoundrel like his father.”
I bristled at the accusation. “You have no reason to speak ill of people when you are not acquainted with them.”
“I know them well enough.”
“Clearly you do not—”
“The marquess and other Marcher barons have been seeking an alliance with the Welsh so they can rise up against the king.”
Sir Aldric’s pronouncement silenced the protest on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I watched his face, searching for evidence of truth, but knowing from the heavy weight upon my heart he was not lying. He was giving voice to rumors I’d already heard.
“You believe my father is working with the Marquess of Clearwater to lead a rebellion against the king?”
“I would not hold you or your sister against your will if I didn’t believe it was true.”
From everything I’d learned so far about Sir Aldric, I believed he was a man of honor—one who wouldn’t approve of taking noblewomen into captivity unless for a greater purpose.
Now I understood what that greater purpose was. “By capturing Izzy and me, does Lord Pitt hope to bring my father into an alliance with him instead of the marquess?”
“Lord Pitt is seeking only to protect the king.”
My stomach churned with the implications of everything Sir Aldric had revealed. “What will Lord Pitt require of my father to gain our freedom?”
“A ransom, of course.”
“And . . .”
“And that he pledge his loyalty to the king.”
“If he does not?”
“Lord Pitt will attack him again.”
A cold dread seized me at the prospect of Lord Pitt inflicting any more pain upon my family. What else could he do except . . .
“Next time he will go after your brother, Charles.” Sir Aldric spoke gravely, as if he’d heard my thoughts.