Free Knave of Hearts by Shari Anton

chapel bell pealed to bid all to morning Mass.
    She gave a moment’s thought to staying safely within the hut before she pulled on her boots and tossed a hooded cloak over her unbound hair and gray gown. The girls would sleep awhile yet, and she wanted Stephen gone before they woke.
    He slid off the wall as she slipped out the door. She walked toward him, getting only close enough to talk quietly so they’d not wake the girls.
    “How fares Lyssa?”
    His inquiry tugged at Marian’s heart. Stephen didn’t know he asked after the health of his own daughter. Then again, the inquiry might not be truly Stephen’s, but William’s. ’Twould be like her uncle to send someone out at dawn to ask after Lyssa.
    “She was up twice in the night, but has slept steadily for the past few hours. The worst has passed.”
    “Poor tyke. ’Tis not right a little one should suffer so. On our way back to Branwick last eve, Edwin told me you had taken her to a London physician to seek a cure. That was Lyssa in your bed that night, was it not?”
    She’d tried very hard to put that night in Westminster Palace out of her mind, as well as other nights in Stephen’scompany, and certainly didn’t want to talk about any of them now.
    “Aye, ’twas Lyssa. She had finally fallen asleep and I did not want you to wake her.” Marian glanced back at the hut, her refuge. “I should go back in now, and you had best be on your way or you will miss Mass.”
    He smiled, a hint of mischief in the upward curve. “I suppose I should, or William will have one more thing to hold against me.”
    The question that skittered through her head must have shown on her face.
    “He does not like me,” Stephen said. “William thinks me too young and not worth my daily bread, to hear him tell it. Certes, not worth the hand of his daughter.”
    William could be blunt, but he was rarely outright rude.
    “My uncle told you this?”
    “Not only did he say he considered me an unsuitable match for his daughter, but he has devised a contest designed to prove his belief.” Stephen turned around and placed his hands on the wall, his head turning as he perused the view of Branwick’s fields and woodlands before him. “Edwin and I will each receive a list of improvements to be made to Branwick. We are to inspect the holding and devise a plan to make the most improvements at the least cost. He did not say so but he expects me to make a muck of it.”
    Hoping her uncle might be right, which meant Stephen would be on his way soon, she asked, “Will you?”
    He spun around. “Oh, nay. In truth, I am not overly worried over the contest, merely annoyed. I am concerned, however, over you.”
    Her confusion heightened when he took two steps toward her and grasped her shoulders. She could feel theheat of his hands through her cloak, enjoy the pressure of the familiar squeeze of his fingers.
    “I was up a time or two myself last night,” he said. “After we left here last eve, I worried over leaving you and the girls out here, unprotected. Edwin told me you have lived as such for several years, yet I do not understand why you do not live in the keep, as you should.”
    She wished his fingers would be still, that her own arms didn’t yearn to wrap around him. She locked her arms firmly across her chest to muffle her pounding heart.
    “I prefer the hut to the keep. Truly, we are in no danger.”
    He looked skeptical, so she pointed toward a hut not far down the road.
    “In yon hut lives the blacksmith, whose two lads are nigh as big as bulls. If I scream, you had best prepare to defend yourself.”
    A smile touched the edge of Stephen’s mouth. “I am a Wilmont trained knight. I do believe I can manage against the blacksmith’s lads.” His amusement disappeared. “Marian, I must confess the ill will you bear me sits heavy on my mind. I had hoped we could make amends. At Westminster, I tried to apologize for whatever heartache I might have caused you. Will you listen