“You will not!” Alyx said, pushing past her maid and out into the cool air. “Jocelin,” she shouted when she saw her friend. “Stop them. Leave Raine in private. And you,” she turned to Joan. “Help keep the men in camp. Do what you must. But nothing lewd,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried forward.
Jocelin enlisted the aid of some ex-soldiers to help him while some of the wounded helped Alyx, and Joan had her own methods of making men obey her. Together they managed to keep the camp people away from where Raine and Stephen were having their “discussion.”
“They’re just settin’ now,” said a guard as he was replaced by someone else.
Alyx walked away, not wanting to hear any more of the facts. Raine was so much heavier than his brother, obviously so much stronger. Stephen couldn’t possibly win a fight between them, and Alyx prayed Raine would hold back and not truly hurt his slim brother.
At sundown, Alyx took the water buckets to the river, hoping to escape the gleeful voices of the people in the camp. They were all huddled about campfires listening to the guards with rapt attention.
She stood beside the river, motionless, glad for the quiet, when a sound made her whirl. Coming toward her, walking heavily, wearily, was Raine. Perhaps she should have listened to the people’s comments so she would have been prepared for her first sight of him. The left side of his face was swollen and turning purple. There were bruises on his jaw, his eye a flamboyant mixture of unnatural colors.
“Raine,” she whispered, making him look up and away from her as he knelt by the water. She forgot any memories of anger between them but ran to him, knelt beside him. “Let me see,” she said.
Docilely he turned his head to her and she placed cool fingers on his misshapen face. Without a word, she raised her skirt, tore away linen petticoat, dipped it in cold water and touched his face.
“Tell me all of it,” she said in a half-command. “What sort of club did Stephen use on your face?”
It was a long moment before Raine spoke. “His fist.”
Alyx paused in her washing of Raine’s face. “But a knight—” she began. She’d heard Raine shout a hundred times about how unchivalrous, how unmanly it was to fight with one’s hands. Many honorable men had died rather than lose their honor by using their fists.
“Stephen has learned some strange ways in Scotland,” Raine said. “He says there is more than one way to fight.”
“And no doubt you stood there like a great ox and let him beat you rather than do an unknightly thing such as hit his face in return?”
“I tried!” Raine said, then winced and calmed himself. “He danced about like a woman.”
“Don’t insult my sex. No woman did this to your face.”
“Alyx.” He grabbed her wrist. “Have you no feeling for me? Will you always side with others against me?”
She took his face gently in her hands, her eyes searching his. “I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. Even then, when I had planned to hate you, I was drawn to you. I fought against loving you, but it was as if some great power controlled me and I had no say in what I did. Don’t you realize that I’m always on your side? That day at the fair if you’d killed Roger Chatworth you could have been hanged. I pretended to bed Jocelin to keep you from leaving the safety of the forest. What more can I do to prove my loyalty and love?”
He pulled away from her. “Perhaps it’s your methods I don’t like. Why can’t you tell me what you’re doing? Why must you fight me all the time?”
“Fighting is the only way you’ll listen to me,” she said in exasperation. “I told you you could not leave the forest when the people accused me of stealing, but you wouldn’t listen. I told you not to kill Roger Chatworth, but you stood there like a bull with veins standing out on your neck.” Her voice was rising.
“I don’t know who unmans me most—my brother or you.”
His tone was so little-boy, feel-sorry-for-himself that Alyx tried not to laugh. “What did you and Stephen quarrel about?”
Raine rubbed his jaw. “Stephen suggested I consider that perhaps you weren’t disloyal when you saved Chatworth’s miserable life.”
Raine turned and looked at her. “Have I been wrong? Have I treated you very badly? Is there any love in your heart left for me?”
She touched his chee
k. “I will always love you. I sometimes think I was born loving you.”
A single dimple appeared in his cheek and she caught her breath as she thought he was going to pull her into his arms. Instead, he reached under his doublet and rummaged in his pocket. “Perhaps I can purchase a smile or two,” he said as he dangled the Lyon belt before her eyes.
“My belt!” she gasped. “How did you find it? I thought it was lost forever. Oh, Raine!” She threw her arms around him and began kissing his face so enthusiastically that she caused him great pain, but he didn’t mind.
“You are the best husband,” she whispered, kissing his neck. “Oh, Raine, how I have missed you.”
She didn’t say anymore because his hands twisted in her hair and pulled her head backward as his lips came down on hers. Alyx was sure she would burst apart into little pieces. She catapulted all her weight against him, and as he was in a precarious position, he fell backward, caught himself, then changed positions on her mouth and let himself fall, pulling Alyx with him.
Mouths attached, they rolled sideways, then changed directions, and in one quick movement landed themselves in the icy river water, Alyx on bottom.