Once a Knight by Christina Dodd Page A

And why had he advocated such despotism when his liege was a woman, and likely to consider it a challenge?
    â€œIf you again subject me to such an outburst, you will have no choice. You will be seeking another lord to serve—one more to your liking.”
    Could she speak to her lover like that? Surely not. Not even Lady Alisoun could sound so disdainful to a man who’d rumpled her mattress.
    David looked from the stocky, red-faced, fervently protesting Sir Walter to tall, aloof Lady Alisoun. Nay, Sir Walter hadn’t rumpled her mattress.
    But she did have emotions, he now knew it. Her face didn’t show them, her posture remained the same, but behind her gray eyes existed a soul. And he would understand her, if he had to connive, spy, and enlist the assistance of all her people, and even the very heart of the cold and lonely maiden of George’s Cross.

6
    Under Alisoun’s guidance , Sir David stumbled into his chamber. Alisoun quailed at the thought of putting her safety and the security of George’s Cross in this man’s hands. In this man’s filthy hands.
    He’ll look better when he’s had a bath , she argued back at herself, and snapped her fingers at the maids. They sprang into action, stripping him of his clothing and tossing it in a basket to be boiled.
    â€œMaybe the poor will take this,” one maid said, holding the soiled rags David called his hose between two fingers.
    â€œThe poor won’t want any of it,” Edlyn retorted.
    Edlyn’s voice roused Alisoun. “Go on, dear,” she said. “I don’t think it proper for a maiden who is yet unmarried to bathe the guests.”
    â€œWill you be bathing him?” Sir Walter demanded from the doorway.
    Surprised, all the women turned to look at him, then at Alisoun.
    â€œAs I always do,” she answered.
    He placed his fists on his hips. “Are you not a maiden?”
    So angry she could barely speak, she said, “I am a widow.” By good Saint Ethelred, the man had lost his mind. When had he come to believe he had the right to question her activities? When had he lost so much respect for her that he believed he could insult her without consequence?
    Oh, she knew the answer.
    When she had confessed she’d risked everything to do what she thought was right. He didn’t comprehend that she cared nothing about his disapproval or his opinion. She paid his wages; what she expected from him was his unconditional loyalty. He hadn’t given it, yet still she recalled his earlier support and found herself unable to order he find another post.
    Mechanically, she reviewed the arrangements for their guest. She spoke to Edlyn about the special evening meal, then sent her on her way. A fire burned in the fireplace. She pressed on the mattress. The bedding smelled clean and dry. Lifting the pitchers which sat on a table beside the bed, she found them empty and frowned. In their excitement over serving the legendary mercenary, the maids had failed to finish preparing the chamber.
    At the tub, one of them squealed, and Alisoun glanced impatiently toward the little group around David. So frivolous! Did they think, just because he was a legend, he would be the answer to a maiden’s prayer? She glanced at the furious Sir Walter. Is that what he thought, too? Is that why he stood off to the side, watching, bristled up like a mastiff?
    The group parted briefly, and Alisoun caught a glimpse of David, naked and dripping. He was certainly not a maiden’s dream. A cook’s dream, because he was so skinny. Or a washerwoman’s dream. She’d never seen a man so caked with dirt. It would take hard scrubbing to remove all the grime, but regardless of Sir Walter’s opinion, she knew her duty and always did it. Rolling up her sleeves, she picked up the apron the maids had laid out to cover her. If she could have, she would have left him to the maids, but she dared not retreat now or Sir