His Captive Lady Read Online Free PDF Page B

his business. Particularly since De Warenne was awaiting his report.
    The rebel leader was giving her another of his mocking bows. 'You will take refreshment, my lady?'
    Regal as a queen, she inclined her head. 'My thanks.'
    Wulf had scarcely set eyes on the woman, yet even as she picked up her purple skirts and made to precede Guthlac into his hall, he knew, without shadow of a doubt, that she understood that Guthlac Stigandson's courtesy was false. Oh, yes, she knew. Those bright eyes ran swiftly, searchingly, over Guthlac's features, those white teeth worried her lower lip for an instant, then she straightened, turned her gaze ahead and calmly continued towards the wooden stairway that led up the mound and into the tower.
    'Saewulf?'
    Wulf started. 'My lord?'
    'See to it her men rest here.'
    'My lord, I...' Wulf thought quickly. He did not want to be stationed down here by the chapel, not if she was going to face Guthlac on her own--the force of his feelings, akin to desperation, confounded him.
    Luckily Thane Eric's daughter had other ideas. Pausing at a landing halfway up the mound stairway, she rested a slender white hand on the handrail. Bracelets to rival Guthlac's chinked at her wrist, emphasising her high status. Finger-rings glinted. 'My men, too,' she said, voice clear as a bell and every inch her father's daughter. 'Ailric and Hereward are more in need of refreshment than I; it was they who sat at the oars.'
    Wulf glanced questioningly at Guthlac. 'My lord?'
    Impatiently, Guthlac waved them on. 'Let them come, Saewulf, they are unarmed.'
    Pleasantly surprised at Guthlac's malleability in the face of his enemy's request, Wulf motioned for the two housecarls to follow their lady.

Chapter Four
    T he rebels were eating their evening meal, and Wulf was--much against his better judgement for he should be at the rendezvous with Lucien--still in Guthlac's hall. He peered through the stinking haze of tallow candles towards the head of the trestle and wished he had been party to the negotiations between Thane Guthlac and the Lady Erica. They had talked from dawn to dusk and it was impossible to tell from their manner how they were progressing. Wulf could hear nothing of note over the clatter of knives and the guffaws and the general babble of conversation. He had to get closer...
    Meals in this fenland castle were taken very differently to meals in King William's barrack-hall at Westminster. Here, no weapon stacks bristled with arms by the walls; instead, men wore their arms to table. They sat with their swords jutting out behind them, an ever-present hazard for servers approaching the benches with dishes and ale jugs. The continual bearing of arms by every able-bodied man in the camp reminded Wulf, if reminder were needed, that he was breaking bread with outlaws. To a man they were poised to jump to arms at a moment's notice. If they suspected that he served another master, a Norman master, a dozen swords would be at his throat.
    'More ale, Saewulf?'
    The lad Maldred was at his elbow, jug in hand. Smiling, Wulf nodded and held out his cup, but his attention never wavered from the top of the table. A sense of unease had sat with him since the morning--and it irked him, because he knew it was not connected with the Saxon outlaws and his commission for De Warenne. Rather, it was centred on Lady Erica.
    Wulf should have met De Warenne's man this afternoon. With every moment he lingered here, the risk of discovery grew. But he could not leave, not yet, because the lady... Merde! Thank God he had thought to arrange a second, fallback meeting a few days hence. That one he would not miss.
    Lady Erica was hemmed in on the one hand by the rebel Guthlac and on the other by Hrothgar. Guthlac's wife Lady Hilda sat close by, but Wulf had yet to see the two women exchange words with each other. Like the other men, Guthlac and Hrothgar were wearing their arms; indeed, Hrothgar sat so close to Lady Erica that Wulf wouldn't be surprised to