Gisborne: Book of Pawns Read Free Page A

treat m e thus and it had gone beyond confusing me to a simmering anger.
    ‘Well?’ I prompted, feeling the heat of battle begin to burn. ‘Are you afraid to answer? Have you no opinions of your own?’ I could be cutting when I was angry. It is not a merit of which I am proud.
    He seemed to grow before me, his eyes raking me as good as a thra shing. He had a way of diminishing one by the every act of looking down a rather patrician nose from his excessive height upon the leggy rouncey.
    ‘A liege lord is one to whom I have pledged fealty. In my instan ce, either man has my loyalty. If Richard becomes king I shall swear allegiance to him. If I am a knight, it is what o ne does. If Prince John beca m e king, I should do the same. But i t is a rhetorical question, Lady Ysabel, as King Henry still lives, his sons are v ital and one presumes there is a succession plan .’
    Furious with his condescending manner, I kicked my mare into a canter and leaped ahead of the troupe causing Marais to be even more querulous, for Gisborne to swear roundly a t which I lifted my lips, and for the troupe to hasten after me.
    As before, a horse galloped up from behind, a hand grabbed the reins and that voice said, ‘You really are a wilful child, are you not?’
    My horse stamped about, pulling away from the gauntleted fi ngers. ‘If you think so, Gisborne, you must be right.’
    But inside I chuckled.
    You see ? Two can play at this game.
     
    But by the time we entered Tours, some two weeks of us irritating each other had escalated t o a seriously heated moment. I had walked off on my own through a woodland path to a stream without telling Marais and sat enjoying the pastoral views of fields and sheep and villeins working the land, their holdings little squares of tilled and sown groun d like some patchworked cloth. It pleased me to be on my own for I had nothing of solitude these days in which to indulge my memories of my mother. The peace I now garnered was balm to the very roots of my being and I couldn’t help a disgruntled sigh when Gisborne strode into my presence.
    ‘If you weren’ t the daughter of my employer, l ady or no, I would lay you over my knee and thrash you for your w ilful and ignorant behaviour.’ He didn’t shout but the words rolled out like stones from a trebuchet. The fury that gave impetus to the words was harnessed in hands that clenched as if round the throat of an assailant .
    ‘Are you my keeper?’ My voice began to lift. ‘Mary Mother, all I want is peace . Far from your sour m oods and Marais’ carping. She clings like poison ivy and you glower like a perpetual thunderstorm. Go away, Gisb orne. Leave me. I shall return at my leisure.’
    ‘I AM YOUR KEEPER ,’ he shouted and then lowered his voice and ground the next words out as if he wanted his heel to crush them into the ground. ‘I am under orders to bring you home safely to Moncrieff. You will return to the rest of the group now. I wi ll not have Marais weeping as though you are dead and the men searching . Christ, Ysabel, will you grow up?’
    I was prepared to admit to a degree of guilt, if only to myself. I had not meant to hurt Marais or even to place the men under any sort of threat. I pushed past my father’s steward but could not avoid the last word.
    ‘ Lady Ysabel, Gisborne. Lady Ysabel.’
    But the point was his as the velvet voice rumbled behind me.
    ‘You spoiled little bitch.’
     
    It was true. Spoiled indeed. There was no doubting the fact as Marais collapsed upon me like a falling tree and wept far more than the occasion demanded. Her own grief at loss of home and family had become a matter requiring tact and civility as soon as possible.
     
    Marais and mysel f were settled in a small nunnery in Tours a ttached to the Abbaye de Saint Ju lien where it was quiet and befitted my status as a lady of rank. Gisborne turned to go but I placed my hand on his sleeve. He wore a leather tunic as we travelled and the worn hide felt