‘My lady, of course—’
‘Listen to me,’ she said sharply, cutting me off. Her cheeks flushed red, but she held my gaze as I watched her, waiting for her to go on. ‘Robert is brave but he can also be foolhardy. He is a good horseman but he has few battles behind him. He will need your help. I want you to see that no harm comes to him.’
I wanted to explain to her that in the confusion of battle, with the enemy all around, it was impossible to keep watch over others. If her brother could not hold his own, there was little I could do to help him. But she would not understand that.
‘I will try, my lady,’ I said instead.
She did not look altogether pleased with that, but it was all the answer I was going to give her.
‘In Eoferwic my father asked you to give us your protection,’ she said. ‘Now I ask that you do the same for him, and for Robert. I have seen with my own eyes your skill at arms. And I have heard from my father how you fought at H?stinges, how you saved your lord’s life there. I want you to serve them with the same conviction and honour as you served him.’
Honour, I thought bitterly. After what had happened these last few days, I had little enough of that left.
She was gazing at me expectantly. There was something of her father in that look, I thought: a confidence in the way she bore herself; a strength of will that I admired even as it frustrated me.
‘Will you swear it?’ she asked.
‘What?’ The question caught me by surprise and it took me a moment to recover my wits. ‘My lady, I gave an oath to your father – an oath made upon the cross. I will do everything I can—’
‘I want you to swear it to me,’ she said. She came closer, holding out her right hand, slender and pale, towards me. Around her wrist a silver band shone in the light from the window.
‘There is no need,’ I protested.
‘Swear it to me, Tancred a Dinant.’
I stared at her, trying to work out whether she was speaking seriously. But her eyes were steady, unflinching, as she drew herself to her full height before me.
Still she held out her hand, and I took her palm in mine. Her skin was soft and warm against mine, her fingers slender, her touch light. My heart quickened as I knelt down before her, clasping my other hand loosely over the back of hers.
‘By solemn oath I swear that I will do my utmost to aid your father, and to bring him and your brother back safe to you.’
I looked up, waiting for her to say something, holding her hand between mine, our gazes locked together. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins, throbbing behind my eyes, which were suddenly hot, and growing hotter still for every beat of my heart. Soon I would have to look away, I thought, but I could not, for those eyes kept drawing me in, closer, closer.
Slowly I rose to my feet, reaching up to her temple, brushing her hair, like threads of silk, behind her ear. Her cheeks, usually milky-pale, were flushed pink, but she did not shy away at my touch, did not turn her eyes from me, and though she opened her mouth she made no protest. I could feel her breath, light but warm, upon my face, and suddenly my hand was sliding from her temple, running down the side of her neck, to the small of her back, feeling the curves of her body, so new and unfamiliar, and I was holding her to me as she placed her arms upon my hips, reached around to my back.
I leant towards her, and then at last our lips touched: softly, hesitantly at first; but the kiss quickly grew in intensity as I felt her breasts press against my chest and I held her tighter—
She broke off, wresting herself free of my embrace, twisting away. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I can’t.’ She turned towards the wall, towards the tapestry, and I couldn’t see her face, only her hair trailing across her shoulders and her back.
My heart was beating fast, my throat dry, and I swallowed. ‘Beatrice,’ I said, resting my hand upon her shoulder. It was the first time that I had called her by her name.
She shook my hand off. ‘Go,’ she said, her voice raised as if in anger, though I wasn’t sure what she could be angry about. She did not look at me.
‘My lady—’
‘Go,’ she repeated, more forcefully this time, and this time I did as she asked, retreating across the chamber, watching her back, feeling an emptiness inside me, and I wished for her to turn, but she did not.
I closed the door behind me and, as I did so, I found myself determined that it would not be the last time I saw her. That whatever happened at Eoferwic, I would make it back alive.
Thirty-one
THE SKIES WERE still heavy as we began our northwards journey. I did not see Beatrice again, and when I glanced towards the shutters on the up-floor as we left, they were all closed.