We? She looked at him, wondering why he cared enough to help her.
He cleared his throat. “I feel partially responsible for the terrible way the bailiff treated you.”
“Why should you feel responsible?”
“Because you are my servant and under my care, and because he was my bailiff and I knew he had mistreated you on at least two other occasions.” He seemed angry, his voice a gruff whisper.
“If and when the bailiff wakes up, I’ll tell him he is not to say a word about you, that if he tries to accuse you of being there when he fell and caused himself harm, I’ll tell the coroner or the manorial court how he treated you. I’ll have him put in the stocks. You won’t have to say anything. But if anyone accuses you of knowing something about his … injury, you are to say you went to the privy that night and then went back to the manor house and to bed.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“The coroner will be coming. He was delayed by a violent death several miles from here. When he comes to investigate the fire, he will also want to investigate the bailiff’s accident. We must continue as usual and try not to excite his suspicions, not let him think we know anything about the bailiff’s accident.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“If the coroner wants to question you …” He shook his head, staring moodily across the river at the opposite bank. “It can’t be helped.”
His features softened from their customary hard expression. “I had seen the way Bailiff Tom looked at you and that his presence made you afraid. I should have taken action. I am to blame, and therefore I will take the responsibility for it.”
“I don’t think you are to blame.” Annabel angled her body so that she was facing him. “You couldn’t have known the bailiff would — If anything, it is my fault. I’m sure some would say I should have married the bailiff.” She looked down at the ground, feeling the tears damming behind her eyes. The pain of knowing her brothers wanted to give her to that vile man … She had to change the path her thoughts were taking or she’d never stop the tears.
“Nay, you should not have married the bailiff. I’d have sooner paired a dove with a vulture.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “You deserve to love and be loved.”
You deserve to love and be loved. What did he mean? She had never heard anyone speak of such a thing, although it reminded her of what Mistress Eustacia had said only a few minutes ago. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to guard herself against the strange longing the gentle tone of his voice and his words evoked.
“You are not to blame.” He leaned toward her. There was such intensity in his expression. She wondered if he intended to wrap his arms around her. How would it feel?
But she was being ridiculous to entertain such an irreverent thought. Of course her lord wouldn’t do such an improper thing.
His brown hair had fallen across his forehead. She let her gaze travel over his leather eye patch to his cheek and wished she could see him clean-shaven. She didn’t think she would mind the scars.
She tore her gaze from his face. O God, I pray he can’t read my thoughts.
“I am partially to blame for another reason,” she said hesitantly. “I was carrying a knife, to protect myself from the bailiff. While he was dragging me into the trees, I pulled it out of my pocket.”
“And he took it away from you.” His face was so stern and forbidding, her heart sank. He would see now that it was her fault.
The poor girl had been forced to carry a knife to protect herself. He felt sick, his heart wrenching at the thought of her so frightened. Why hadn’t she come to him? Why hadn’t she told him how terrified she was? He would have defended her.
But he knew why. She hadn’t come to him because he himself had mistreated her. He had been rude and insulting and had assumed the worst.
“I know it was wrong of me to try to use the knife as a weapon — “
“You were only trying to protect yourself.” He closed his eyes, groaning inwardly. God, how can you ever forgive me? How can I ever forgive myself?
“But the bailiff was holding my knife, and that’s why — well, that’s why — “
“That’s why whoever was with you had to bash the bailiff over the head with whatever it was he bashed him with.” Now he was seeing the full picture.
He saw the flicker of fear and sadness in her eyes just before she turned her head.
They sat in silence, listening to the slow-moving river and the birds flitting nearby and overhead in the trees.
Ranulf stared down at his gnarled hand. The fingers and thumb curled inward, the scars and damaged tendons forcing his hand into a claw shape. He was a disfigured man, but he could have, should have protected her from the bailiff.