he said.
Wynter gripped his tunic at the chest and tugged him near. ‘You listen to me, Freeman Garron. I am telling you now, I love you.’
Christopher shook his head, doubt and concern visible in his clear grey eyes. ‘You don’t have to say that,’ he whispered.
‘I love you,’ she insisted, her face very close to his. ‘To court I shall always be the Protector Lady Wynter Moorehawke. To Razi and Alberon I shall always be Wyn – Razi’s baby, Albi’s little sis. These things are what I am, Christopher, and I am proud of them. But I am also your Iseult. You are the only man to whom I shall ever be thus, and I shall never let that go. We shall find our place,’ she promised. ‘I’m not yet certain how we shall find it, or where it will be, but wherever it is, we shall be together, Christopher; and whatever we are doing, it will not involve me sitting in a tent waiting for my menfolk to change the world.’
Christopher grinned at that, his wicked, lopsided grin, and, in clear view of the scandalised camp, Wynter kissed him, full and slow on the mouth. His hand found its way to her waist, and he made that delicious mmmm sound in his throat that always weakened her knees.
‘Wait for me here?’ she whispered.
He nodded, smiling, and with one last solemn kiss Wynter parted from him and made her way up the hill to Alberon’s tent.
MACHINES AND MACHINATIONS
ALBERON WAS waiting grimly in the shelter of the awning. The sun was hard on his angry young face, and bright as fire in the pale spikes of his choppy hair. The breeze had risen and it snapped the awning over his head, shivering its way through the tent at his back and snatching at his red wool cloak. Wynter felt its early-morning chill and wished for her own cloak. Her sword hung heavy at her waist. The slope reminded her of how weary she was.
‘Your Highness,’ she said, coming to a halt in the cold sunshine. ‘May we talk?’
Alberon’s eyes flickered briefly to Christopher, who was still standing at the foot of the hill, then back to Wynter. ‘Get in,’ he hissed, and she ducked past his guards into the dimness and relative warmth of his empty tent. Alberon strode after her.
The little servant peered around the door, his face red, his eyes wide. Wynter was certain that he had run, like a good little courtier, and told the Royal Prince that the Protector Lady was making love to an untitled savage right in the main street of the camp. She grimaced at him, and his little face twisted in miserable embarrassment.
Alberon stood in the centre of the tent and glared. ‘What in God’s name are you up to, Wynter?’
Wynter smiled gently. ‘Christopher Garron is not what I came here to discuss, your Highness. Perhaps we can talk on that another time?’
‘Whatever you believed you could get away with on the trail, Protector Lady, your conduct here lays the foundation for your very future. I already have my work cut out trying to restore your reputation, and I shall not have the court saying you’ve opened your legs for a God-cursed thief and a Merron savage!’
Alberon’s unexpected crudeness took Wynter completely by surprise. She felt her face flare scarlet, and she was speechless for a moment with shock. ‘Alberon,’ she said eventually, ‘don’t—’
‘I’m no goddamn puritan, Wynter. But you cannot afford to dandle your scrap of rough pleasure on the highway for all to see.’
Cold rage swelled to replace Wynter’s embarrassment, and she lowered her chin, her face hardening. ‘I’ll ask you to watch your tongue,’ she whispered. ‘No man has a right to speak to me in that fashion, not even a royal prince. Christopher Garron is my intended, Alberon. My da loved him; I have no doubt he would have approved our match. Razi approves our match. Our attachment is a fait accompli, your Highness, and I am afraid that you have no say in the matter.’
Alberon’s eyes flew open in a sudden rush of horror and disbelief. ‘A match?’ he cried. ‘For godsake, Wyn, the man has nothing! He’s a bloody gypsy! He will ruin you! Do you really want to spend the rest of your life living in a ditch?’
He clutched his head at the thought, and Wynter’s anger was blown away with the understanding that Alberon was utterly terrified for her. She opened her mouth, and he