Honor & Roses (8 page)

Cecily had felt so warm
and safe in Alric’s arms, but his last words pulled her back to cold reality. “Am I not to your liking?”

“Cecily, you are far too much to my liking. And you are my lady, or have you forgotten that? I serve your uncle. I serve you.”

“You are more than that. You always have been.”

He shook his head. “At the end of the day, I’m just a knight. You’re destined for a greater alliance.”

She frowned, not liking that reminder. But she also recognized when he would not speak further on a subject.

“Oh, well,” she said carelessly, hoping to restore the camaraderie between them. “I’m so grateful you’re home safe, for however long it may be.”

He smiled at her, not meeting her eyes. He moved to the door of the hut to separate himself from her. “Come. If your work is done, I will see you back safely.”

Cecily extinguished the candle and moved to join him.

They walked slowly back through the gardens to the manor, where things were no quieter than before.

Then the clerk Laurence stepped out of the shadows of the main doorway. “Late to be about, is it not?” His gaze flickered over Cecily, then Alric. “Ah, I see you are not alone.”

“No, of course I am not alone,” she said. “I was most fortunate that Sir Alric was willing to escort me on my errand. I feel so much safer with a knight at my side. Good night.” 

She swept by Laurence, Alric close at her elbow. She instinctively leaned toward him, using him as a shield blocking Laurence’s lingering regard.

“Observant little rat,” Alric muttered, once they were alone again.

“I never liked him,” Cecily confessed. “Always lurking, always there to make people nervous. I don’t know why my uncle tolerates him.”

When they reached her door on the upper floor, Cecily looked up at Alric.

“Thank you for rescuing me from Rafe,” she said quietly. “And for staying with me.”

Alric gave her a little bow. “My lady, I’m yours to command.”

“Don’t be so formal with me,” Cecily told him. “Now that you’re back, I insist you pretend you never left. I’ll want a chess match, and a picnic or two. We can’t waste a beautiful summer.”

He smiled, “If I have the time. There are other obligations.”

“True!” she said, thinking of the many tasks she’d set for herself. “But we’ll find time.”

“If you want, Cecily,” he said, his eyes watching her intently.

“I do. Good night, Alric.” She hurried into the bedroom and closed the door behind her before she could say anything more foolish.

Cecily lay awake for a long time. Alric’s kisses lingered on her mouth, summoning unfamiliar thoughts and feelings. She was certain the effect would fade as soon as sunlight returned to the world. It had to. No one could live with such a feeling of…joy.

She had waited so long to hear any news of Alric. Was it unnatural to respond to him when he was close by again? Their intimacy was only that of two people happy to see one another again. That’s all the kiss was. He would never kiss her again.

After all, it wasn’t as if Alric could ever seek her hand. And he would never press attention on her if his intentions weren’t completely honorable. She knew Alric. He was honor itself. He was bravery itself, too. And loyalty. Such a paragon of knightly virtues…

She found herself remembering the feel of his body beneath her fingers, and flushed in the darkness. She was hardly thinking of him as her longtime friend and ally, was she?

In fact, she was thinking of him in quite another way.

Cecily had to stop swooning over him. In the morning, good sense would reassert itself. She would forget the few moments of madness in the night, when all she wanted was to wrap her arms around Alric and explore the tantalizing new sensation of his mouth on hers…

Cecily. Cease your nonsense.
She reprimanded herself as she would another lady who was dreaming over a man. Alric would never think of
her
in such a physical way.

Or would he? Men were far more base than women. He might be dreaming of her at that moment, desiring another kiss from her…

Cecily!

She turned to her other side, careful not to disturb Agnes, who slept beside her. What was wrong with her? Alric’s return should be an occasion of pure joy, just as the return of any friend would be. Once she got over the changes in his appearance and demeanor, all would settle back into the old pattern of life. His smile would merely warm her, not send waves of shivers all up and down her body. They would walk together. They would play chess through the cold months.

And in the spring, he would leave again. For battle.

Lord in heaven
, she prayed silently.
Keep Alric safe. And keep me sane.

* * * *

The next morning brought the measure of sanity Cecily had prayed for. She woke up early, her mind filled with all the tasks she had to complete today. High summer meant constant work in the gardens, because so much had to be harvested and processed before the cooler weather came. Cecily hurried out to the gardens after stopping by the kitchens for some fresh bread. Steam curled up, along with the yeasty aroma that made her even hungrier. She tore into the little loaf as if last night hadn’t been a feast, and soon devoured it all. Her main meal would come later in the day, when the heat drove people inside for a time.

Happily, there was so much to do that she lost herself in her work. Cecily stripped leaves off of stalks, sorted seeds, and readied more herbs for drying. She constantly went in and out of her little work hut, from sunshine to shadow and back again.

Just before noon, she entered the hut with her arms full of poppies. Cecily saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone was inside the hut, hoping not to be seen.

She stopped short. “Who is it? Come out, please. I wouldn’t want you to break any of the pots stacked up there.”

After a moment, a person moved out of the shadows.

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” It was the same beggar who’d spoken to her at the feast. His posture was slumped, and his straw-colored hair hung over his face.

“Bertram, is it not?”

“Yes, my lady,” he said with a clumsy bow.

“Well, before I pardon you, Bertram,” she said, “I must know why you’re here. Can I help you?”

He took another tentative step toward her. “I was told you make a syrup that mends the throat.”

“So I do,” she said. Now that she knew the young man only needed some treatment, she relaxed. “Are you in need of such?”

“I took a chill a few weeks ago, while I was still sleeping in the fields. It’s hurt since then.”

“How does your throat feel? Wet and raw? Or merely dry?”

“Dry. It hurts to swallow. I drink as much water and ale as I can, but it’s stayed.” He paused, looking about in awe at the hut and all the shades of green of the drying plants. “Broth helps, especially if it’s greasy.”

“Then you should continue to drink broth. Ask for it from the cooks—there’s always some, especially for any who work for it.”

As Cecily spoke she hunted for the syrup in its glass bottle. It was made from mint and horehound, and the sticky substance was so thick it had to be drizzled in boiling water before it could be taken. Cecily put a small pot of clean water over the brazier. “It will be ready as soon as the water heats. Tell me, then, why you have been sleeping in fields rather than in a house.”

He looked down, scuffing one foot into the dirt floor. “I slept in a house until April, my lady. I lived near Hereford. The house caught fire one night. I alone escaped the blaze—I slept nearest the door. My parents died, along with my brother and my new baby sister.”

“Lord have mercy,” Cecily said. “You have my sympathy. I too lost my father in a fire.”

The boy’s gaze flickered up to her. “When?”

“I was eight years of age. It happened at Aldgate, to the north. I haven’t seen the place since.”

“How long did it take for you to stop dreaming of smoke?”

Cecily sighed. “I still do, sometimes.” She busied herself with the syrup, pouring it into a cup. “So you have no one to take you in?”

“No. The fire consumed all. There was nothing to recover, nothing to sell to start fresh. My neighbors did what they could, but I’m not blood. I’d be a burden if I stayed. I traveled, sleeping in fields, or sometimes working for food and shelter.”

“And that’s what you’re doing now? In town?”

“No, my lady.” Bertram’s eyes darted all around the room. “Not in town.”

“Where, then?”

“Where they told me about you, my lady. About how you come and help them.” He looked at her nervously. “That’s why I came here. There are those there who begged me to tell you that they need your help again.”

Cecily put a finger to her lips. “It is best not to mention more, Bertram. Not here.”

She took the steaming water off the brazier and added the syrup. Then she poured it into a dish he could drink from.

“Take this, and don’t let it cool too much,” she said.

Bertram drank it obediently, though his nose wrinkled at the taste. “Medicine must be bitter, I suppose,” he said. “But I do feel better already.”

“I will give you a little to take with you. Drink some once in the morning and evening. You’ll remember how to prepare it?”

He nodded, watching as Cecily poured some syrup into a smaller bottle. He took it from her, giving a little bow. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Tell them I’ll come as soon as I can,” she reassured him. “But I’m not sure of the day.”

After she saw Bertram off, Cecily felt a rumbling in her belly. It was past time to eat, and she’d been hard at work since dawn.

While she left the gardens, she pondered what excuse she could dream up so she might slip away from the manor for a whole day. It was easy enough to invent a reason for her to go somewhere, and Theobald rarely looked for her until suppertime. But with the men back from the war, it meant more eyes and more curiosity.

She needed at least three of her women about her, not to mention horses. That would cause comment, unless something else was happening about the manor to distract Theobald and the men, a distraction that would let her own activities go unremarked.

Over the next few days
, Alric worked hard to restore his old connections at Cleobury. He needed to get used to life here once again, and he needed to get Cecily off his mind.

Fortunately, there were many people to meet and speak with, old friends and acquaintances to catch up with. At a manor the size of Cleobury, there was always work to be done, too. A strong man like Alric could make himself useful nearly anywhere.

Lord Theobald summoned him the day after his return to specifically request Alric’s assistance in seeing that the manor’s fortifications were as complete as possible.

“I want to be sure this place can be defended for at least seven days before help arrives.”

“You fear the Welsh will be outside the gates?” Alric asked.

Theobald chuckled. “I do not fear the Welsh!” Then he said, more seriously, “The English and their allies give me pause. We’ve no way of knowing how long this succession will take to settle. Neither Stephen nor Maud will give up an inch of soil. In such times, wise men look to their own defenses.”

“Yes, my lord.” Alric couldn’t deny the truth of that statement, however calculating it sounded. Theobald was right to protect what he held, especially because he held it in trust for Cecily, who was heiress to it all. Allegiances could waver and vanish with a few turns of Fortune’s wheel. Allies could die or change sides. When everyone looked to their own interests, it was foolish to trust others too far.

So Alric surveyed the manor’s defenses. He walked around the property, looking over the landscape and the walls, as well as the people. Though impressed, he still saw room for improvement.

As he worked, he inevitably noticed Cecily and her entourage of attendants as they went about their own tasks. Cecily was consulted on many matters of the household. Alric also noticed that she spent as much time as she could in her gardens. She not only worked herself, but directed others at tasks such as weeding and turning over fallow beds. She smiled at him whenever their eyes met, but rarely had time to speak.

That was just as well, Alric told himself. He had made a mistake that first night. He never should have touched her…and he certainly should not have enjoyed it so much, or hoped to find her alone again.

To distract himself, Alric concentrated on examining the manor’s defenses. By making the manor stronger, he was helping Cecily. That was all he wanted to do.

So he looked over the new curtain wall—a stockade fence, not stone. But it was sturdy and quite defensible, thanks to the towers at the four corners and the gatehouse in the middle of the front wall. Archers could keep any attacking force at bay until the manor’s inhabitants could prepare a defense.

Alric evaluated the men inside the manor, and decided they could use some more training. He offered to teach a small contingent defense tactics, using his battle-tested men as the “attacking” force.

Rafe offered to help with that part, since he never passed up the chance to display his own skills with weaponry.