Sheltered by the Warrior

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Aye, his plan to use Rowena would work well. ’Twas the only reason for his sudden interest in her, and nothing more, not a weakened heart or her fawn-like eyes, as Josane suggested. Not even that curious ability of hers to read people. ’Twas only how she’d fit into his plan. By openly assisting her as she convalesced, Stephen would be riling up this malcontent to attack again.

He left the hut shortly after. Movement caught his eye, and he noticed Alfred the Barrett pushing open the village gate to approach him. The guard stopped the old cottager, but Stephen motioned the man closer. Mayhap he knew something of value to this investigation.

However, Stephen doubted it. The man lived up to his Saxon family name, which meant “quarrelsome.” Stephen’s servants said Alfred’s father had been the same, as his grandfather before him, so the surname stuck like mud in the welt of a boot. Automatically stiffening, Stephen waited for the man to approach and speak.

“Milord,” he started, “you need not be concerned with this fire. ’Twas a simple accident. We will see to it that the girl has a new roof before long, let me assure you.”

Stephen felt the hairs on his neck rise but said nothing. Alfred Barrett was volunteering his village to help Rowena? Would they also give her food and lodging until she was able to manage on her own? Would they pay for a new roof, when they barely had two coins to rub together?

Stephen doubted that very much, for if such generosity existed, ’twould have been displayed last night. Aye, they saved the house, but not one villager except Ellie had even spoken to her.

“’Tis good of you to offer this. Rowena has hurt her ankle, so for the moment she will remain in my maids’ quarters under my care.”

The man’s mouth tightened, Stephen noticed. ’Twas as brief as a blink, but perceptible. And expected.

“Would you start the work immediately?” Stephen asked, though he knew the only thatcher in the village was currently employed.

Barrett’s eyes narrowed. “Mayhap with your lordship’s permission, we could gather the thatch today instead of working in your gardens or building the king’s palisade. We do have one thatcher in the village, but he’s busy.” Barrett’s tone turned sly. “Rethatching one of your barns, milord.”

Stephen nodded, pretending not to hear the change in tone. “Aye, he does excellent work.”

Barrett rubbed his grimy hands together. “It costs so much to rethatch, doesn’t it, milord? I don’t know how this girl will pay for it.”

Forming a grim smile, Stephen agreed. He’d already decided to pay for the repairs while standing in the hut, but this sly verbal dance he was doing with Barrett curbed his words.

Nay, Barrett had come here for another reason. What it was, Stephen wasn’t sure, but he’d discover it soon enough. He had patience to spare, and Rowena wasn’t leaving his manor anytime soon.

With deliberate heartiness, Stephen pressed his hand down on the other man’s bony shoulder as he guided him out of the small parcel of land. “We are just grateful there wasn’t more damage and that no one was hurt, aren’t we?”

“Oh, aye, milord! But I am concerned for the work to be done, and we all know we must be about your harvest or cutting your trees.” Barrett waved his hand. “But, milord, ’tis a matter for us villagers, and not your concern. We’ll make the best of it. We Saxons take care of our own. In fact, I can arrange for the girl’s care, if you like.”

His expression calm, Stephen studied the man, wishing he had Rowena at his side to discern Barrett’s motives. Stephen’s first instinct was to send the man back to his home with a curt announcement that only when Rowena was well enough would she leave his manor. But he thought carefully before answering.

“’Tis a good offer, Barrett. Let us see what the day brings, as I plan to inspect the thatcher’s work.” With that, he strode ahead of the Saxon, hearing his guard also step past the man.

At the manor, Stephen found Rowena in the maids’ chamber, mending hose with her ankle propped up. Weed stalks were drying nearby, obviously destined for rope. Her babe sat on the nearest pallet, flicking small scraps of cloth, as was a babe’s custom. Stephen saw that Rowena had been given one of Josane’s old cyrtels. The dark blue complemented her milky complexion and pale hair. Though Rowena didn’t fill it as his sister had, the color was better on her than on his sallow-complected sibling.

At his entrance, Rowena looked up quickly, expectant yet nervous. Shifting his sword, for in his haste to come here, he had not surrendered it to his squire, Stephen sat down beside her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, milord,” she whispered. “Forgive me for not rising.”

He waved his hand. “No matter. How is the ankle?”

“Far more swollen than yesterday, I fear. Ellie has gone to the well for cold water.” She set down her mending with a small shrug. “I had to do something while my stalks dry. Mending was the only thing I could manage, and Lady Josane was quick to take my offer. But,” she hastily added, “Ellie has promised she will get everything I need to make your rope.”

Stephen shrugged. “Both are always needed, I suspect. Although I have neither mended nor made rope in my life. I expect my fingers would be too clumsy.”

Rowena looked down at his hands.

The urge to wiggle his fingers raced through him, just to bring a smile to her face. But ’twas not the time for jocularity. Nor was he the type to engage in it.

“I’ve just returned from your hut,” he said grimly.

Rowena drew in a quick breath as apprehension flashed in those pale blue eyes.

Her lips parted, then shut firmly as she looked away. In her lap, her hands shook. Would they be cool if he covered them with his own? Suddenly, the room was becoming uncomfortably warm, and Stephen was glad he’d left the door ajar.

“You found something that disturbs you,” she commented.

He glanced around. Though this cramped chamber was one of many in his manor, before last night he’d not stepped foot in it, let alone sat in one of its chairs. This whole wing was new to him. ’Twas Josane’s business to deal with the kitchen and maids’ quarters.