The Traitor's Daughter Read Free

death. Lady Alais would cry and
he would comfort her until he could coax a smile from her. He thought she might
be beautiful when she smiled. It had been hard to tell through the dirt and
grime encrusted on her face. She had looked more like a cottar’s woman than a
noble’s daughter when she had accosted them, but what spirit she had. She had
faced down two mounted and armed men. She had been afraid, terrified, even, but
she had not panicked in the face of certain death and that had saved her life.
If she had turned and run, she would have run straight into the arms of the
Frenchmen pursuing her and they would have killed her before Hugh could have
reached her.
    Hugh shivered at the thought; he did not like the idea
of harm coming to Lady Alais. He was ashamed now that he had scared her by
moving against the Frenchmen without warning her or Edmund. In the heat of the
moment, action had seemed preferable to speech, but he felt sure that she had
understood quickly what was happening. Hugh did not have much time for the
company of women. He thought them weak, silly and selfish, with very few
exceptions. They were more in need of his protection than anything else. His
own wife had only confirmed these beliefs, but Lady Alais, who had definitely
needed his protection, had struck him as neither silly, nor weak and definitely
not selfish. She had tested him every step of the way before she had allowed
Edmund to take her to safety. He wondered what she would have done if she had decided
that his intentions were criminal or dishonourable. Undoubtedly it would have
involved some pain for him or Edmund; she was not the kind of woman to give in
without a fight. It showed her remarkable good sense that she had saved herself
when she could not save her mother and her first request had not been for
herself, but for Lady Eleanor. She also interested him in a way his wife never
had. He had not wanted to give her up to Edmund, but had wanted to be the one take
her to safety. For one blinding moment, he had imagined taking her to Hill,
going with her into his bedchamber and locking the door behind them, but that
was something he could not think about. It was a complication he could not
allow. Better, by far, to think of her as a damsel in distress and him as the
knight who had rescued her on his way to greater and more glorious deeds. He
had never thought of himself as the hero of a tale before and he found the
thought did not sit easily with him. He shook his head; he had been too
affected by fireside tales. His own sworn duty was to escort Lady Alais to
Liss. She could hardly distract him from his task when she was his task. He
needed to find some form of protection against her, because he could not admit,
even to himself, that he was attracted to his father’s wife.

  Chapter Two
    Edmund’s body behind Alais was totally unyielding. He sat
stiffly as far away from her as he could, with his right arm draped loosely
around her waist, holding her just tightly enough to keep her steady, but not
too tightly to be considered familiar. Alais in turn sat as far away from him
as was comfortable and safe. She could hardly blame him for his antagonism; he
had also recognised her name, he must know who she was and what her story was and,
like everyone else, he could have no regard for a traitor’s daughter. He must
hold his lord – Sir William, Hugh’s father – in high esteem and could not bear
being this close to her. Alais shuddered slightly, knowing that this would
never end; whatever else she might be she would always be the daughter of a
traitor.
    It was not long before Edmund’s horse was moving among
people fleeing on foot. Most of them were too scared to notice the horse, but
those who did moved out of the way as quickly as possible. Some of the crowd,
seeing that he was mounted and armed, shouted at him to go back and fight the
French, but Edmund did not respond, although he tightened his grip on Alais,
until she had to ask him to