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Ivo smiled. “You will be safe, Mary. Sweyn is good at protecting pretty ladies.”
Briar’s sharp tongue sliced at him.
“Do not think to beguile my sister. She is far too fine for a disgraced knight.”
Ivo’s body stiffened as he felt the wound reopen. Disgraced, aye, that was what he was. She had cut him in the reminding, but he would not give her the satisfaction of knowing it. Briar, the firebrand, spat flame at all about her, but Ivo was determined to make her burn for another reason entirely.
He took a stride into the room, ducking his head beneath the lintel, and closed the door behind him. Inside, the dwelling was bigger than he had imagined, and the ceiling was not pressing down upon his head.
With the light quenched, Briar was able to see him.
Her heart flopped like a fresh-caught fish.
The bruise on his jaw was fading, but if anything he appeared even more dangerous. There was an added gravity to him today, as if he had come bearing bad news.
He is leaving again.
The words froze her, and she stared at him, waiting for the pain to ease.
But all he said was, “My name is Ivo. Why do you not use it?”
Briar felt relief pour through her, making her dizzy. He was not going away. He had not come to tell her that.
Ivo seemed unaware of her inner turmoil, as his gaze wandered over her in a leisurely way. He took in her skimpy chemise, only coming to her knees, and her bare legs showing below it, and her bare arms, and her long, damp hair. More quickly, he took note of the pot bubbling over the coals, and the clothing, wet from yesterday, steaming to the side. It was a very domestic scene, a place of women, and safe for a man like him. Or so he would think.
Briar actually saw him relax. His shoulders loosened, his hand dropped away from the hilt of his sword, and his serious air vanished as his wide mouth curled into a smile. Aye, she thought, annoyed now, he has set aside his vigilance because he sees no need for it here. Two women, alone and undefended? He would think himself far the superior if it came to a fight.
The urge to shake that male arrogance was too strong to resist, and Briar did not even try.
She tightened her grasp on her sword hilt, and lifted it into clear view. From the corner of her eye she saw him pause. Slowly, enjoying the moment, she turned the blade, admiring the manner in which the firelight glinted upon it.
“You are armed?”
Briar glanced at him, saw his brows lifted in surprise. “Aye,” she retorted smugly, “and I know how to use it.”
His surprise didn’t turn to instant terror, as she had hoped. At least, not yet. “You would defend yourself with that?”
“To the death.”
He laughed, his face turning handsome. “Whose death, that is the question. You are bloodthirsty for a wench. I will not fight you today. Today, I have other plans for you.”
Briar didn’t even try to hide her annoyance. Why could he not behave as she wanted? “I am not going anywhere with you, de Vessey! Mary and I must play and sing tonight at Lord Shelborne’s hall. ’Tis important I rest my voice,” she added, and used one hand to stroke her throat.
For a moment he simply watched the movements of her long fingers against her smooth flesh, as if he found it impossible to look away. His voice sounded hoarse. “You can rest your voice later, demoiselle. Dress yourself, for I have something to show you.”
His arrogance was really beyond bearing! “I don’t want to see anything you have to show me.”
“Ah, but you will. Do as I say.”
Briar stood up to her full height—which unfortunately was not terribly tall. The hem of the chemise brushed he
r knees, and she shook back her hair, until it hung out of the way, down her back. She took up a fighting stance, gripping her sword in both hands in the manner in which she had been taught.
“Nay, de Vessey. I do no man’s bidding!”
Something shifted in his eyes. Amusement, certainly, and confidence in his own abilities to best her, but something else, too. Before she could decide what it was, Ivo took the two steps needed to reach her, neatly avoiding the drying clothing strung out near the fire.
Jesu, he was tall. And big. He looked down at her with a flicker of a smile, as if he found her determination to defend herself a pleasant diversion on an otherwise dull morning. And there again was that other thing in his black eyes…
