Free Captured by the Warrior by MERIEL FULLER Page B

the great hall.
    Bastien stretched his long legs out in front of him, his thigh muscles straining a little after the battle followed by two days’ riding. Against the dusty leather of his boots, the stone floor gleamed a shiny grey; despitehis reputation as a warlord, Richard always insisted on the highest of standards when at home. Bastien stared into the flames, continually damping down the guilt that flared within him, every time he thought of that woman.
    ‘Well?’ The Duke, his stocky build dwarfed by the massive stone fireplace behind him, hankered for an answer.
    Bastine shrugged his shoulders, mouth twisting wryly. In contrast to the Duke’s tetchy movements, he seemed calm, unmoved. ‘I suppose I thought to teach her a lesson,’ he replied finally. The image of the girl’s limp body, her head lolling back over the crook of her father’s arm as he carried her up the stairs, ran through his mind. He shifted against the hard wooden back of the chair. Lord, but these seats were uncomfortable!
    ‘What! By dragging her through the mud and the mire? By subjecting her to the rough, untethered ways of our soldiers? I haven’t dared ask about the state of her face… Did you do that?’
    ‘Nay! Never!’ Bastien’s head shot up. ‘She meddled in a situation that she shouldn’t have. Richard, she was the one spying on us, following us. Should I have just let her go?’
    Richard rested his hand on the carved stone ledge above the fire, the flames picking up the gold trellis-work embroidery on his cote-hardie, making it sparkle. Around them, on various trestle tables and benches, the soldiers relaxed, engaged in dice games, or light banter with the servants of the castle. Already the mead was flowing, in celebration of their victory, and every now and again a burst of raucous laughter would rent the air.
    ‘Nay,’ said Richard. ‘You did right to bring her along.But maybe not in that manner, forcing her to walk all that way with no food.’
    Bastien stood up, raking his hair with his fingers, as he stood head and shoulders higher than the Duke. ‘Sweet Jesu! Richard, you’re making it sound as if I took the girl out of her bed, dressed her in those ridiculous boy’s clothes and forced her to come with us. She was the one who put herself in that position. And I say she got everything she deserved. A woman should know her own boundaries, and by overstepping them, should know what to expect.’
    ‘You’re too harsh, Bastien.’ The look in the Duke’s eyes hinted at something else.
    ‘I stepped in when it was absolutely necessary. It could have been a lot worse.’ Suddenly the fire warming his right flank seemed too hot; he stepped away, creating distance between himself and the Duke.
    ‘Even so, I think you have let your past colour your judgement.’ The Duke’s tone was softer now. ‘Not all women are like your mother.’
    ‘That woman has nothing to do with this,’ Bastien snapped. ‘It’s a completely separate matter.’
    ‘If you say so,’ replied Richard, in a tone that clearly implied that he didn’t agree. ‘Anyway, despite your best efforts, it’s a good thing you managed not to kill the Lady Alice.’
    ‘Give me one good reason why.’ Bastien let out a long, deep breath.
    ‘Because she is about to become extremely useful to us.’
     
    Fabien ran another approving glance around the room to which he had carried his daughter a few hoursearlier. A fire had been hurriedly lit in the brick fireplace, fresh linens already adorning the four-poster bed. Through two large rectangular windows, the evening sun streamed, throwing shafts of light through the warped glass and across the polished wooden floor. ‘Why not eat up here, daughter, in the comfort and privacy of this chamber?’
    ‘What? And leave you to face the enemy on your own?’ Alice bounced up in the bed, propping herself up against the pillows. A rosy blush had returned to her cheeks; her eyes had lost their dull glitter,