Samantha James Read Online Free PDF Page B

half-smile curled his mouth. “Well, my lady, my knights caught her hunting in the forest though the villagers had been ordered to keep to their huts. She would surely have slain me had I not divested her of her dagger in the nick of time. Then she told me an outrageous tale—that it was given her by Kerwain, that she is his daughter.”
    Though Alana longed to lash out that it was true, she pressed her lips together. Let Sybil tell him. Mayhap then he would believe her.
    Sybil bit her lip. For the longest time she said nothing. Her uncertainty made Alana glance at her sharply, for this was so very unlike her. And indeed, it struck her that for once Sybil was not so very haughty. Her ivory cheeks were smudged with dirt, her wimple slightly askew. Spots of grease darkened the front of her bliaud. Wisps of hair emerged from her braid. Never had Alana seen her so untidy.
    “Milord,” she said at last, “’tis no tale. She is my half-sister, the elder by two months.”
    Merrick’s brow darkened. “The elder by two months! How can this be?”
    “Kerwain sired both of us. But my mother was Rowena, who died in the fray. Alana’s mother was Edwyna, a peasant from the village. Alana was not raised here in the keep as I was.”
    Once again Alana felt the probe of those icy blue eyes. She met his gaze cleanly, making no effort to hide her smoldering disdain.
    A dark brow rose high. “So you are not legitimate issue.”
    Now it seemed Sybil was only too anxious to speak. “Nay, milord. She is not.”
    He held her gaze a moment longer. Alana held her breath, for though his eyes did not free her, his expression betrayed no hint of his thoughts. At last he gave a curt nod. “Go with your sister and see that you make yourself useful,” he ordered. “I will decide your fate later.”
    It was in Alana’s mind to disobey flagrantly, to deny him to the fullest. Oh, but he was an arrogant beast! And though ’twas not in her nature to be so surly, she could not help it. They seemed to strike sparks off one another. But she sensed she had tested his patience to the limit, and might not be so lucky again. She spun around, though not without a last, challenging glare.
    In the kitchens, preparations for the evening meal were underway. Sybil handed her a knife, and they began chopping cabbages and onions. Smoke from the fire pits hung thick in the air. Alana peered through the haze at her sister.
    “They say he has made slaves out of allthose who survived,” she said, her voice very low.
    Sybil sighed. “’Tis true,” she admitted. “He captured those who would have fled. We were given a choice—serve him or be imprisoned.”
    “And what of you?”
    Sybil’s golden brown eyes fell. “I was given the same choice,” she said quietly.
    Alana cried her outrage. “But you are the lord’s daughter!”
    Sybil shook her head. “He is lord now and I have little choice but to obey,” she said sadly. “None of us do. The Normans will not be ousted. ’Tis said that Duke William has taken all of England for his own and proclaimed himself king.”
    Sybil was far more accepting of her fate than Alana had expected. Alana peered at her suspiciously. “He has beaten you, hasn’t he? Oh, the wretch! Sybil, I will—”
    “Nay, Alana, he has not. Indeed, he has told me that when his sister Genevieve arrives from Normandy, I will no longer toil in the kitchens as I do now. I will then serve as her maid.”
    Alana sniffed disdainfully. ’Twas impossible not to notice Sybil’s chafed, reddened hands. Sybil was not used to hard work, as she was. A lady’s maid would surely have an easier time of it.
    “Why must you wait? Why can you not serve his wife?”
    Sleek, dark hair fell forward, shielding the small, secret smile that crept across Sybil’s lips. “He has no wife.”
    “But…I saw a lad who must surely be his son, for he had the same winged brows—”
    “His nephew Simon. He fosters as Merrick’s squire. Merrick’s sister