Page 39 of King’s Knight

Alex stiffened at Merewyn’s side. So this is the woman the king desired him to meet and wants him to wed, most likely. Merewyn had always known this day would come but she had not imagined she would be there to witness it. Alex was handsome and his father a powerful earl who had been a favorite knight of the Conqueror. Now his son was taking his place. Was that what stirred this woman’s interest? If Merewyn was any judge, it seemed to her Lady Adèle was pleased with the match the king intended.

Adèle of Vermandois was a beauty. With her long dark tresses, she reminded Merewyn of Lora, only her eyes were hazel instead of Lora’s dark brown. To Merewyn’s mind, the Norman woman seemed fully aware of her effect upon men. She batted her eyes at Alex, not in the amusing way Merewyn had when teasing him, but in a seductive, predatory manner. “C’est vraiment très agréable de finalement faire votre connaissance,” said the dark-haired woman. That she found it most agreeable to have met Alex was clear from the gleam in her eyes.

Before Merewyn could say a word, Ranulf took her hand and said to Alex, “The king wished you to meet Lady Adèle, so I leave her with you for this next dance.” Then shifting his gaze to Merewyn, “I will see to this lovely one.”

Alex sent Ranulf an angry glare, but accepted Lady Adèle’s hand when it was offered and Merewyn was swept away to another group of dancers. She and her partner stood on opposite sides of two long lines as a new song began. Facing her, the look in Ranulf’s dark eyes was lustful, reminding her of that woodland long ago when she was surrounded by a pack of boys. She wished she were dressed as the archer, her bow at the ready.

As the two lines came together, he said, “My lady, you are the most beautiful woman in the hall. I would you were mine.”

She was not flattered. He bore the title of priest yet he wore no priestly garments. Instead, he wore a rich purple tunic that rivaled the king’s. On Ranulf’s fingers were many rings and around his neck hung a heavy golden necklace. She was certain he was a man of dissolute habits who would seduce her if he could, but for all that, she would remind him of his role in the church.

When next the lines of the dancers came together, she said in a low voice, “You are bold for a priest.”

He laughed. “I am many things, my lady. Bold is one of them. As the keeper of the king’s seal, I enjoy his favor.” His dark eyes narrowed on her like a beast siting its prey. “Were I to ask him, he would give you to me, but I would prefer you come to me of your own free will.”

Anger washed over Merewyn at the man’s audacity. “It will never happen!” Did he think her some strumpet to come at his call? He was no different than most men, but she resolved not to embarrass Alex by leaving the lecherous chaplain abruptly, as he deserved. When the dance was over, she would find her noble knight.

Fortunately she did not have to worry. When the dance ended, Alex was there to claim her.

“Ranulf,” Alex said, inclining his head. “We wish you good eve.”

Alex did not give the man time to answer but swept her to the side of the room where wine was being served. Taking a goblet, he thrust it toward her. “From the look of you, you need this.”

Her breathing was labored and not from the dancing. “Thank you.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

“Aye, I am now.” Alex’s very presence made her feel safe. “That man is loathsome, Alex. You cannot imagine what he said to me.”

“Oh yea, I can.”

With worried eyes, she looked up at him. “He said he could ask the king to give me to him. He would not, would he?”

“He might. But I will not allow it.”

“But Alex, what of that woman, Lady Adèle? Is she not intended for you by the king?”

“I care not,” he said dismissively. “William can find another noble’s son to bind to his lands in Normandy.”

Rory and Guy appeared then, casting anxious glances at Alex. “We saw what was happening,” said Rory, “but ’twas so fast we could do little and you were there so we did not worry until Ranulf took her off.”

“No matter,” said Alex. “I doubt anything you could have done would have prevented it.”

Suddenly, Duke Robert was at her side. “My lady, would you grant me a dance?”

Merewyn looked to see Alex’s reaction. His brows were drawn together in worry but she did not sense the angry storm of emotion he had displayed when Ranulf Flambard had taken her from him.

“Go with the duke,” he said, smiling at Robert. “I will reclaim your hand when the dance is finished.”

The dark-haired duke, who was twice her age and not much taller than she, flashed her a smile. “I see the young wolf guards you well. Were you mine, I would do the same.”

Merewyn did not like being referred to as something to possess, at least not by men she did not even know, but she placed her hand on the duke’s arm and allowed him to lead her to the dancing. Casting a glance at Alex over her shoulder, she saw his gray eyes had turned as cold as steel.

* * *

Alex had endured the dance with Lady Adèle, all the while sneaking glances at Merewyn, wondering how she fared. He missed much of what the young Norman noblewoman said, but he remembered her mentioning that her father, the comte de Vermandois, and Earl Renaud were once young knights together. “My father has great respect for the knight they call the Red Wolf,” she had said. “And, I hear his son is much like him.”

Alex hoped he never saw the woman again.