LITMIR.BIZ

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draughts as he raced across the meadow to the safety of the sun-dappled forest.

      “I am the greatest fool in all England!” He consoled himself by banging his head against an unforgiving tree trunk. Tavie and Vixen lay down among the dry leaves to watch their master make a complete idiot of himself.

      

      Sir Edward threw his hat to the floor. “Bolts and shackles! A plague take him! I have half a mind to follow the jolthead, and bring him back to beg your forgiveness. What simpleton have I tied you to, Alicia?”

      Lady Katherine laid her hand on his arm. “Peace, my husband. Methinks the young lord is consumed with grief at his sudden loss. Such a misfortune is apt to muddle one’s wits.”

      “His wits were none too steady ten years ago,” Sir Edward growled, staring at the empty doorway. “But I had hopes that he would grow more wise with time.” He put an arm around Alicia. “Forgive me, my precious child. I have done you and your royal father a great disservice.”

      Alicia shook her head. “Nay, Papa…I mean, Edward, I think not. I recall that Sir Thomas was kind to me when I was a child. Methinks the idea of a wife on his doorstep has much to do with his current distress.” She laughed softly. “Do you remember Peter Martext, the draper’s son? He often visited our shop. When I asked him if he needed help to choose a gold chain, he merely stared at me. You remarked he did not know how to converse with women. Perchance that is the case with Sir Thomas.”

      Alicia’s lighthearted tone belied the twist of fear in her heart Dear Lord in heaven, what if her betrothed was truly mad? Though he looked to possess the strength of his Viking ancestors, what would she do if he could not protect her?

      Yet the shy boy had grown into a most handsome man. Alicia had never seen such a pair of broad shoulders on anyone. His tight black hose left very little to the imagination. His waist tapered to slim hips and buttocks. His stockings bulged with large thigh and calf muscles, indicating a man who lived in the saddle. The black velvet of his mourning doublet set off his bright blond hair and flashing sapphire eyes. Those eyes did not reflect madness, merely shock.

      Lady Katherine squeezed her husband’s arm. “Aye, Ned. I believe Alicia has hit upon the core of the problem.” She smiled up at him, a little too brightly.

      Edward slapped his riding gloves against his palm. The huge mastiff rolled over, and regarded him with interest.

      “What am I to do now? We must flee the king’s vengeance, yet I fear to leave you here alone, child. You must be safe.”

      Alicia swept her gaze around the hall. The wainscoting of oaken panels appeared more black than a natural brown color. The plastered walls above the wood, once whitewashed, had taken on a gray color from many years of sooty fires and neglect. The carved pillars, also blackened by smoke, rose into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling. A faded red banner, looking more like a rag than a battle flag, hung crookedly over the chimneypiece. No gentle housekeeping hand had touched Wolf Hall in many a year. What the poor new earl needed was someone to let some fresh air and sunshine into his life.

      “Wolf Hall looks stout enough to withstand an army,” she remarked, trying to sound braver than she really felt. “The only enemy I see is dirt and mismanagement.”

      Sir Edward gathered her into his embrace. She was tall enough to look directly into his eyes, and to read his apprehension. “You have always been the practical one, my dove, but thick walls will not save you from the Tudor’s grasp, if the heart that rules within this castle is a weak one.”

      Before Alicia could frame a reply, she heard someone cough discreetly behind her.

      A youth, dressed in the height of fashion, but with colors of gray and black, swept them a bow. “My Lord Brampton, Lady Brampton, Mistress Broom, welcome to Wolf Hall.”

      Sir Edward released Alicia, then strode toward the young man. “Who the devil are you?”

      The young fop swept him another bow. “Andrew Ford, my lord. I have the honor of being squire to the Earl of Thornbury.”

      Brampton groaned under his breath. “This farce grows worse and worse. An idiotic bear is served by a preening peacock,” he noted in an aside to his wife.

      Undaunted by Sir Edward’s glower, Andrew Ford approached them. The slim boy looked no more than sixteen. His sleek, nut-brown hair fell to his jawline. The boy’s hazel eyes hinted of mischief.

      “I have come to beg your pardon for my master’s hasty exit, my lord.” Andrew threw him a guileless smile. “Sir Thomas is unused to company of any sort—and most particularly that of two such beautiful ladies as yourselves.” He bowed again to Lady Katherine and Alicia.

      Alicia regarded the boy with hidden amusement. This one must dine and sup on honey, and keep the tailors of York in constant employment.

      Sir Edward assumed his most dignified demeanor. His ward had rarely seen that side of him in all her years of living under his roof. She still found it difficult to accept that he was a noble lord, while she, herself was…

      Alicia pushed away the thought of her true identity. She must try to forget it completely. The sooner she cast off the name of Broom and became a Cavendish, the safer it would be for her. After that, she hoped she could bury the dangerous secret of her existence deep within the heart of Wolf Hall. She prayed that Sir Thomas would honor his father’s bond and marry her.

      She did not want to be locked away in a nunnery for the rest of her life. She craved the love and companionship of a husband, and children to bear and nurture. Sunshine. Flowers. And especially animals. She glanced down at Georgie, who returned her look with a hopeful one of his own. Alicia leaned over, and rubbed his tawny ears. Georgie closed his eyes with a sigh of satisfaction.

      Sir Edward towered over the boy. “When next you speak, Master Ford, pray do so with some firm purpose. Your lord has treated us in a most shabby manner, and has dishonored his bride. He is an ass.”

      Though Andrew shook his head at this insult, his smile never left his face. “Hear me, my good lord, and so find understanding in your heart. My master is a good man, strong and true. He means no disrespect, and certainly not to so fair a maiden as Mistress Broom.” He turned his smile up a notch at Alicia.

      She continued to rub Georgie’s ears. Best not to give the boy too much encouragement. He looked like the sort who fell madly in love every day of the week and twice on Sundays.

      Sir Edward snapped his fingers several times. “Speak to me, squire. How can I be sure that my ward will be safe if I leave her in this…” He glared at Georgie. “In this kennel. Does your master often bolt from his chambers? Can he speak in more than a growl? Does he have the wit to be married? Can he care for my precious girl?”

      “Aye, my lord, the earl can do all this and more. Mistress Broom will be safe at Wolf Hall. You have my word upon it.”

      “Ha!” Sir Edward bared his teeth. “The word of a strutting popinjay? Tell me, Master Ford, does a razor frighten your beard yet?”

      Two red spots appeared in the boy’s smooth cheeks. His smile clouded, but did not disappear entirely. “My lord, I am sorry if my apparel and my manner offend you. I had the honor to spend my formative years in the household of the Duke of Buckingham, where I learned how a gentleman should conduct himself. Even though I serve Sir Thomas in the wilds of Northumberland, I take pleasure in maintaining my little refinements. When I am full grown, I hope to find a place at court. In the meantime, I do not intend to become a barbarian while residing in the countryside.”

      Alicia hid her smile behind her hand. She suspected that Andrew Ford made gladsome company in this old, neglected castle.

      Sir Edward regarded the slender lad. “Very well, Sir Motley, I will leave Alicia—at your word. If I hear that she has been ill-used by your master or anyone else at Wolf Hall, I shall personally seek you out. When I am done with you, I will stuff you, your fine manners and your princely garb into an eel-skin, and feed you to the swine. Do we understand each other, squire?”

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