When she was sure he was asleep she went to him, knelt by his bed and for a moment watched him, doing little more than assuring herself that he was alive. Finally, she went to her own hard bed and used all her strength to keep from crying.
In the morning Raine insisted on going to the training ground. No protest from Alyx or Jocelin could persuade him to rest for another day. As he walked, Alyx could see the sweat on his forehead, the dull look in his eyes as he forced himself to move.
“If you die, what use will you be to us?” Alyx tossed at him.
“If I die will you go personally and notify my family?” he said in such seriousness that her breath caught. Then a dimple flashed and she knew he was teasing her.
“I will throw your great carcass over a horse and go to meet your perfect family, but I will not kneel with your sisters to mourn you.”
“There will be other women besides my sisters to cry at my passing. Did I ever tell you about Judith’s maid Joan? I have never met a more enthusiastic woman in my life.”
At that Alyx turned away, her back rigid against the sound of Raine’s rumbling laugh.
After an hour’s training, Alyx ran back to the tent to fetch some of Rosamund’s herb drink for Raine, and there she found Blanche sorting through his clothes.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Alyx demanded, making Blanche jump guiltily.
“For . . . for laundry,” she said, her eyes darting.
Alyx laughed at that. “Since when do you know what soap is?” With a quick movement she grabbed Blanche’s arms. “You’d better tell me the truth. You know what the punishment for stealing is—banishment.”
“I should leave here,” Blanche whined, trying to twist away from Alyx. “There’s nothing here for me anymore. Let me go!”
As Blanche pulled Alyx pushed, and Blanche went sailing across the room, her back hitting a tent pole.
“I’ll repay you for this,” Blanche sneered. “I’ll make you sorry you ever took Lord Raine away from me.
“I?” Alyx asked, trying to keep the pleasure from her voice. “And how have I taken Raine?”
“You know he doesn’t take me to his bed anymore,” she said, rising. “Now that he has a boy—”
“Careful,” Alyx warned. “It seems to me that you should worry about my anger toward you. What were you searching for when I came in?”
Blanche refused to speak.
“Then I guess I’ll have to talk to Raine,” Alyx said, turning to leave.
“No!” Blanche said, tears in her voice. “I have nowhere else to go. Please don’t tell him. I’ll not steal. I never have before.”
“I have a price for not telling Raine.”
“What?” Blanche asked, frightened.
“Tell me about Jocelin.”
“Jocelin?” Blanche asked, as if she’d never heard the name before.
Alyx only glared at her. “I will be missed soon, and if I don’t have the story by the time someone comes for me, Raine will hear of your stealing.”
Immediately, Blanche began the tale. “Jocelin was a jongleur and all the highest-born ladies wanted him, not only for his music but for his . . .” She hesitated. “The man never grew tired,” she said wistfully, making Alyx believe she had firsthand knowledge.
“He went to the Chatworth castle at the command of Lady Alice.”
The name Chatworth made Alyx’s head come up. Chatworth was the man who held Raine’s sister and sister-in-law.
“Lady Alice is an evil woman,” Blanche continued, “but her husband, Lord Edmund, was worse. He liked to beat women, watch their struggles as he took them. There was a woman, Constance, and he beat her until she died—or at least he thought she was dead. He gave the body to Joss to dispose of.”
“And?” Alyx encouraged. “I haven’t much time left.”