Once a Knight by Christina Dodd Page B

Walter would consider it a victory.
    Her level voice cut the chatter. “Where is the wine and water, should our guest have a thirst in the night?”
    Heath clapped her hand over her mouth.
    She’d been Alisoun’s personal maid before; she had been promoted to chief maid when Philippa had come, and when distracted, she occasionally failed in her duties. “Are there other chores left undone?” Alisoun asked.
    The group around David melted away. Heath ran from one place to another, assessing each maid’s performance. They all remained within the chamber, hoping, Alisoun supposed, to sneak glances at the legend in their midst. She didn’t care about that. She feared only that their hospitality might be lacking, not that it would be done too well.
    At her approach, David sank into the water as if it might melt him. From the look of him, he hadn’t the experience to know otherwise.
    Soaping the washing cloth, Alisoun tried to ease David’s uneasiness with polite chatter. “Is the chamber to your liking?”
    He leaned forward and let her rub his shoulders. “It’s lovely,” he said politely. “Is it yours?”
    Briefly, she considered digging her fingernails into his skin. She had hoped he wouldn’t behave like an ass and make offensive comments that insinuated shewould warm his bed. So many knights and lords did when she bathed them, assuming that she must hunger for what she did not know and smugly sure they could satisfy that hunger. For them, a few cool words worked much like icicles dropped into the bath water, and she never had the problem again—at least from the same man.
    Today she didn’t feel so tactful. She, too, was exhausted from travel and this duty seemed onerous beyond belief. Running the washcloth up over David’s head, she let strong lye soap drip into his eyes. Jumping to his feet, he yelled, and tried to rub it out. Heath ran forward with a basin of clean water and helped him splash water into his face. When he turned on Alisoun, red-eyed and snarling, she thought to apologize sweetly. Instead she found herself saying, “You’ll sleep in here alone, Sir David, unless you choose another partner. I’m sure one of the maids could be persuaded to join you, out of curiosity if nothing else. Now, if you’ll sit again, we’ll finish with—”
    He grabbed her hand in a firm grip, and she wondered if he would soak her. Her training told her she deserved it for allowing her temper to get the better of her, but Sir Walter’s growl angered her even more. She didn’t need protecting from David; she could handle him.
    â€œThis is my chamber?” David demanded.
    She stood absolutely still. “I have said so.”
    â€œI sleep here…alone?”
    â€œAye.”
    Her soapy hand slipped from his grasp, and he made no move to recapture it. “You have chambers for everyone?”
    â€œFor my guests.” She began to realize the reason for David’s amazement. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for you to sleep on the floor of the great hall with the servants. Sir Walter has a private chamber in the gatehouse where he can be at the ready in case of attack, but I thought that you should be within the keep.”
    â€œSince I’m to guard you.”
    She felt foolish now. “Aye. I need you to guard me and mine.”
    Sir Walter stepped forward. “I can do it.”
    Her hand trembled with frustration, but she answered as she always did. “I need you to preserve the whole castle and the village. There isn’t enough time for the special care I have come to require.”
    She expected David to say something, to step between them somehow, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat in the water and looked up at them both as if expecting entertainment. She could have slapped him.
    Sir Walter turned away with a grunt.
    David didn’t try to take the cloth from her, but leaned