Chained to the Barbarian. Carol Townend
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him. Yet she had insisted that the Princess should buy him. Why? He gestured at the maidservants, the marble tables, the silken hangings. ‘You are not short of slaves here. What do you want of me?’
She recoiled. ‘I have not decided.’
Her back was straight as a poker and her eyes had lost their warmth. William hadn’t really noticed that warmth earlier, but now that it was gone … His heart clenched. The contrast with the confiding way she had taken her place at his side and this cold grey gaze could not be more marked. However, he had to know—Lady Anna must want something from him. Why waste money on a slave, if all she was going to do was free him? ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Do? At present you do not have to do anything … except recover. I do not intend to keep you, if that is what you mean. Of course, I cannot free you officially until the Princess has signed the document of ownership over to me. You will have to wait for that. I may have a simple task or two for you, but as I said, I am undecided as to whether you are … suitable. However, as soon as I can, I shall give you your document of manumission.’
‘You expect me to believe that you are going to free me?’ It was hard to keep the scorn from his voice. In William’s experience, people who offered favours always expected a sizeable return. Always. The price for a favour as large as this—his freedom!—was bound to be high. Not that he intended to be around to pay it. He was curious though, about what use a gently bred court lady might have for a Frankish slave.
She shrugged. ‘As you rightly observe, I have no need of you in the long term. I shall free you once the Princess has signed you over to me.’ She frowned in the direction of the closed door. ‘You must bear in mind that she must sign your documents before you may be freed.’
Lady Anna’s expression was earnest, she sounded convincing. It was tempting to believe her, tempting to think that he had at last met someone who was capable of putting others before herself. He shook his head. Much as he might wish it, life had taught him that only a saint would behave in such a way. ‘Slaves are generally bought for the long term. This simple task you have in mind must be of some importance.’
She flushed, her lips pursed. It was obvious she was not prepared to divulge the nature of the task she had in mind. It might be dangerous. And though Lady Anna did not strike him as anything but law abiding, it might be against the law.
Grey eyes searched his and after a moment she reached forwards, cool fingers feathered across his forehead. ‘Are you feeling stronger?’
William nodded, he took no notice of the pounding in his head.
‘Your skin was burning earlier, thankfully you seem cooler. Would you care for more wine?’
‘Please.’
Recognising the change of subject as meaning he would get nothing more from her, William sipped fine wine from the Venetian goblet and willed his anger away. For the moment he was content simply to watch her. His brain didn’t seem to be working for much else and watching her was preferable to snapping at her.
This woman was not his enemy. He must direct his anger at his real enemy, at whoever arranged for his capture in Apulia. Lady Anna had nothing to do with that. She may well want something from him, but she was going to be disappointed—he was going home to search out his enemy and take his revenge. In the meantime …
Watching Lady Anna was as pleasant a way of passing the time as any. William couldn’t say what it was about her, but she intrigued him. The simplicity of the dull brown gown and veil suggested someone whose rank was unremarkable, yet she was, apparently, lady-in-waiting to Princess Theodora.
And her Imperial mistress, as he recalled from what he had seen at the slave market, had worn equally unremarkable clothes. Why? And why had the Princess ventured outside the Palace with only a handful of men as her escort? Surely an Imperial princess should have a great entourage? The customs of the Great Palace were as much a mystery to William as the subtleties of female attire, but one thing he had learned from what had happened to his mother—there was a rigid hierarchy in the Imperial Palace.
Here, rank meant everything. As in any great palace, courtiers must fight and jostle for power. Reputation and prestige would be guarded most jealously. So the quiet foray that Lady Anna and her princess had made to the slave market had been unorthodox, to say the least of it.
It was on the tip of William’s tongue to inform her that he was no slave, that he was a knight from the Duchy of Apulia and Calabria, but the old instincts were strong. Until he knew more about the Palace, until he knew more about this woman and what she wanted him to do, he would tread warily. Life had taught him not to give his trust too easily, it was a lesson which was hard to set aside.
Her gaze was downcast, giving him leisure to study her. Her eyelashes were long and dark, and her eyes had been lightly outlined with some cosmetic. Other than that her face was clear of paint. His mouth went up at a corner. No whore of Babylon here. Her nose was straight and beneath her veil her hair looked to be wavy, dark tendrils were curling about her forehead. Her complexion was clear, her skin was a golden olive in tone.
Why should a lady-in-waiting be nursing a slave? It made no sense, unless she was studying him to see if he was fit for this secret purpose of hers.
That hazy memory stirred and he was back at the slave market with the Princess murmuring in his ear. ‘I have bought you for Lady Anna, it is she who owns you.’
What can Lady Anna want of me?
Draining the goblet, he handed it back. ‘My thanks.’
Mon Dieu, he was weary, from head to foot everything ached. Yawning, William let his eyelids droop.
With the children safe, there was nothing more to delay him. He would rest awhile … and then, whether or not Lady Anna freed him, he would take his leave of this place. He must find the man who betrayed him in Apulia—he would have justice!
William dragged up the covers and found himself at the receiving end of a gentle smile. The warmth was back in her eyes, Lady Anna had forgiven him his curtness. He had responded with a smile of his own before he had time to check it. Whatever she might want of him, she seemed to be a good woman, she was certainly a beautiful one. But it would take more than a gentle smile to make him put his faith in anyone but himself.
‘Before you rest, please … what is your name?’
‘William.’
‘William of …? Where are you from? You were born outside the Empire, I think.’
Her voice was quietly persistent. It was likely she was trying to lull him into lowering his guard and believing he could trust her. She would not succeed. And even though William would be leaving shortly, he was reluctant to confess that he was in truth a knight. His pride was not ready for the public admission that he, Sir William Bradfer, had been enslaved.
‘The slave master said that you were a Frank,’ she added.
William grunted. Her presence at his side was oddly comforting, which proved nothing except that his months as a slave had weakened him. Hunching his shoulder on her, William closed his eyes. Now that the children were safe, he must give his body a chance to regain its strength.
And then, regardless of Lady Anna’s intentions, he would make his escape. Apulia, and revenge on his unknown enemy, awaited.
Anna stood frowning outside the Princess’s bedchamber. She exchanged glances with the guard at the door, a new recruit called Kari.
What is going on? Katerina and the Commander have been in there for an age! Surely they are not … are not …?
With a click, the bedchamber door swung open and the Commander came out, buckling on his belt.
He is buckling on his belt? No!
Jaw agape, Anna watched him leave the apartment. She hurtled into the bedchamber, slamming the door behind her.
‘Princess!’