Page 43 of The Sword and the Damsel

“Fine. I swear on my deepest, darkest, and best-kept secret.”

“Which is?”

“You already know it.”

“No I… Oh.”

She watched him replay the events of last night in his memory. The laughter disappeared from his face. There was a fire in its place. And guilt. She shouldn’t have mentioned it. It was like a piece of broken glass between them, injuring them both with its jagged edge.

“So? What did you do?” She forced a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“I…” He stopped and exhaled, gritting his teeth. “Alais, you have to know your secret is safe with me. You’re my wife. What happens between us is no one’s business but our own.”

She halted her horse, and he did the same. She looked him in the eye. “I trust you. You stood by me when no one else would. I know I’m safe with you.”

She started forward again. He didn’t move. His gaze was burning a hole in her back. She turned to look over her shoulder and beckoned for him to join her. At last, he did.

“You trust me?”

“Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”

“I can think of at least a dozen reasons. Why do you?”

She sensed that her answer mattered a great deal and took the time to compose her thoughts before responding. “Everysingle time I have been in danger of any kind in your presence, you have come to my rescue. You’ve protected me from harm. You’ve defended my honor. Even the first day we met, you saved me from my own rude curiosity by turning it into a joke and laughing it off. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve your loyalty and protection, but you have always offered it without question and without expectation of anything in return.”

She searched his face for some indication of his response. He stared back, his expression unreadable. “Even last night,” she continued, “I know you were trying to protect me. I know you thought you had my best interests at heart. How could I not trust a man who was willing to marry me when no one else would, and who obviously desired me, but had no expectation of consummation? It’s true we hardly know each other, but I know who you are to me.” He still stared, inscrutable. “Victor, say something.”

Finally, his serious expression softened. “I’m yours, utterly and completely, for as long as I live.”

“And I am yours.”

He took a deep breath. “Good God, I want to drag you off and do sinful things to you right now.” Alais wished he would. “But I promised you a day out, and a day out you shall have. We’re nearly there.”

Alais had been to Hastings before on several previous occasions but only to Lady Helisende’s castle. She’d never spent time in the city proper. As they rode through the city gates, surrounded by a steady stream of colorful riders and wagons, she couldn’t help thinking Victor was right. This was so much bigger than Winchelsea.

He guided them away from the central road up to the palace and into winding side streets that seemed to have no rhyme or reason. She soon lost all sense of direction. The streets were so narrow that she couldn’t imagine how a wagon could fit through.

They stopped in front of a stone building that looked exactly like all the others crammed together in these narrow streets. He was certain of his destination, though, and helped her down. They entered a tiny shop filled floor to ceiling with bolts of cloth in every imaginable color and texture.

“Sir Victor! What an unexpected pleasure,” squeaked a short, squat merchant dressed all in green velvet and who had only the slightest fringe of white hair. Alais didn’t think he looked pleased at all to see Victor, unexpectedly or otherwise. “Is your aunt looking for something special? I just made a large delivery to Lenore up at the castle. Is anything amiss?”

“You’d better hope it’s not. As you well know, my aunt doesn’t appreciate mistakes, but today I’m here on personal business. Allow me to present my wife, Lady Alais.”

The merchant bowed and licked his lips. “An honor to make your acquaintance, my lady. May I offer you a seat?” He gestured toward a tall, padded stool beside a large, wood table marked with measurements. “Let me show you a sampling of my wares.”

He began pulling down a bewildering array of fabrics in a rainbow of rich colors. There were silks, brocades, satins, velvets—every luxurious fabric she could imagine.

“You can do better than that,” said Victor, shaking his head. “Show me what you show Lenore.”

The merchant blanched, but there was also a gleam of greed in his eye as he put back all the dazzling fabrics he’d pulled out and shuffled into the back of his shop. He returned with a much smaller pile, but each one was fit for a queen. Victor rejected half of them for minor flaws in weave or dye that Alais couldn’t even see, leaving only the finest for her to choose from. She chose fabric for two winter dresses, two summer dresses, and a cape, and gave Victor a worried look, not sure if she’d over-indulged. He just smiled.

“Are there any of these fabrics you don’t like?” Victor asked her.

She pointed to three, leaving six.

“We’ll take these six as well,” Victor told the merchant. She watched Victor loom over the merchant’s shoulder as he measured and cut, making sure he didn’t skimp. They haggled over the price, but Victor still paid a sum that made her heart skip a beat. The merchant heaved a sigh of relief as they left with a large, wrapped bundle.

“I caught him cheating on his import taxes last year,” Victor explained after they left. “He’s dishonest to the bone, but he has the finest selection in Hastings. My aunt is his biggest customer. She used to send me along with Lenore to make sure he didn’t cheat her.”

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