you gone daft? What if she’s a spy—”
“Calm down, brother. The girl is no spy. She’s scared. And alone. Juliette and I owe her a debt of gratitude.”
He met his brother’s eyes and nodded, a sign that he should continue.
“Without her intercession,” Toren continued without pausing to let him speak, “I might not have gone after Juliette the night she left Bristol Manor. Alex, I would not abandon the squire, and I ask you not to either.”
“Then let her squire for you. Or take a different position, one less. . .”
“Think of Catrina. How would our sister feel if you refused to train the squire because she’s a woman?”
An image of their fiery, red-headed sister flitted through his mind. Surely Toren was right; she would scream at him for what he was saying.
“Perhaps she can train, but let her do so with you.”
“I already have a squire. Alex. . . please.”
He had never denied his brother and chief before, and he would not do so now.
But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Scowling, he sighed as Toren clasped him on the shoulder. “Aye, your new squire is English. . . and a woman. I’m not asking you to marry her, Alex, simply train her. Allow her safety, to hone the skills she needs to feel safe. And be done with it.” He paused, giving Alex an intent look.
“Trust me, brother. My wife is gentle and pure. You’ve met Lady Sara at Kenshire and other ladies, good ones, who live just across the border. Just because Mother—”
“Enough.” Alex was not so stubborn as his brother, but neither did he feel inclined to relent easily. He would not think of their mother. Not now, not ever. “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.”
Toren released his grip, and for the first time since their conversation had started, Alex smiled. “But I’m going to have a bit of fun with this. And you’ll not interfere.”
If his brother looked worried, Alex didn’t care. He asked much of him. And if he was going to play nursemaid to an Englishwoman, he would damn well enjoy it.
7
C
lara made it back to the castle without incident. She was even able to slip into the quick morning mass. Brockburg’s shape was similar to English hilltop estates, with each building attached to the other, all surrounding a central courtyard; the chapel was attached to the outer building. Although there was likely an entrance which allowed the inhabitants to go directly from the second floor chapel to the great hall, it appeared to be out of use because everyone, with the exception of the priest, headed to the lower floor to access the keep’s main entrance. She spotted Lady Juliette, who gazed at her husband with such love and joy, Clara had not wanted to interrupt.
While sitting in the mass with a room full of people, Clara had almost felt like she was a part of something. Now, as everyone eased away and she made her own way to the great hall, she felt very alone again. Such was the life of a runaway and fugitive. It was at times like these, when she felt somewhat safe, that she missed Gilbert’s companionship most.
Lost in thought, she followed the crowd past the well at the center of the courtyard and was preparing to enter the keep when she heard her other name posed to her.
“Alfred, can I speak to you?”
It was a voice that she’d quickly come to know. Heart beating, Clara turned to face her new master.
“In private.” Alex Kerr motioned for her to step aside.
“My lord.”
He looked at her with the most peculiar expression. Dressed for training, as always, he donned nothing more than trewes and a loose linen shirt rolled up to his elbows.
“It occurred to me, Alfred. You’ve not yet seen all of Brockburg. After the meal, I’ll give you a tour of the castle.”
Although it was not unusual that he should be smiling, something, perhaps his tone, made her leery. But of course she had no choice but to accept.
“I would be delighted, my lord.”
She concentrated on his forearms, not daring to look up. But that plan did not work. He reached down to roll his shirtsleeves even higher.
Oh dear.
“Meet me here when you’ve finished. I’ve already broken my fast.”
“Already, my lord?”
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Shhh. Don’t tell Father Simon. He’d be vexed I did so before mass. But I found myself unable to sleep this morn.”
“Indeed?”
She peered up over her lashes.
“I’m an early riser, as