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He could, however, at least convince Sir Etienne that troubling Aliénore further would be a mistake. A fatal one, if the man was slow in learning his lessons.

“Al-ah, Henri,” Colin said, wishing heartily that the ruse was over and he could call her by her true name. It would save him a mighty bit of aggravation. “Henri,” he said, “go back to our chamber; I’ll wait for Sir Etienne here.”

Her mouth fell open. “You jest,” she breathed.

“I do nothing of the sort. He’ll come in, fumble around in the dark, and then I’ll step from the shadows to greet him. ’Tis a simple plan, easily executed, and will be quite successful. I will give him reason to leave you be.”

She shook her head violently. “You cannot—”

“I most certainly can, and I will.” He stood, then reached out and pulled her to her feet. “Trust me. I can see to him.”

“It isn’t now that troubles me,” she snapped, “’Tis later! What will you do when an arrow comes at you from the shadows? How can you defend against that?”

“Do you think he’ll leave this chamber on his feet?” Colin asked.

She paused. “You’ll slay him?”

“I’ll leave him in perfect condition to pass a goodly bit of time in the dungeon. By the time he’s freed, we will be well on our way back to England. I daresay he hasn’t the imagination to follow us there, think you?”

She looked powerfully pale, even in the faintest of lights. “You don’t know him.”

“I know his kind.”

“He’ll never rest until he’s slain us all.”

“He’ll invent his own ending to the tale, with him as the hero and me at his feet begging for mercy. That is a tale, I might add, that no one with any wit whatsoever will believe. He won’t bother to make another journey to England. Now, go. Be swift and silent, if you can manage it.”

“But—”

“I know,” he agreed, “I don’t like to leave you roaming the passageways at night by yourself either, but I can see no other alternative at present.

Draw your sword and go swiftly. This shouldn’t take long.

” He took her by the arm and led her across the solar.

He’d memorized where the furniture lay and had no trouble finding his way through it.

He opened the door quietly, then looked out into the passageway.

It was empty. He pushed Aliénore out into the passageway. “Your sword,” he prompted.

She drew her sword, gave him a final look of something akin to worry—which he dismissed with a snort—and then put her shoulders back and crept back down the passageway.

Colin closed the door and retreated to the darkest comer.

He sat and made himself comfortable, though he supposed he wouldn’t have to wait long.

Sir Etienne would no doubt employ much haste to have his prize.

Colin didn’t wait long. The moon had only begun to pour its light through the window before the door was eased open and a large shape came inside.

The door closed and was bolted. Colin nodded to himself.

Apparently, Sir Etienne had plans to have his treasure without interruption.

The other man paused in the middle of the chamber, then looked about him.

“Aliénore?”

Colin nodded to himself in satisfaction.

He’d suspected that this was the other part of Sir Etienne’s extortion, of course.

But how had the man learned who she was?

And how long had he known it? Colin had no doubts that he himself had been used as a weapon to force her cooperation.

No doubt Sir Etienne had promised her several choice tortures at Colin’s own hands if she didn’t do his bidding.

All the more reason to make it so the man wasn’t capable of any more blackmail.

“She’s not here,” Colin said pleasantly. “But I am.”

Sir Etienne whirled around with something of a gasp. “Berkhamshire,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Your head adorning my gates might do for a start.”

Sir Etienne huffed a bit. “You don’t want me. It’s that girl you want. She’s your betrothed, you know.”

“Aye,” Colin said calmly, “I know.”

That brought Sir Etienne up short. “You know?” he asked.

“Have for some time,” Colin answered. That was true, he reasoned. He’d known since supper the night before, and that was some time. “So, I suppose that’s nothing you can use against her anymore, is it? What else did you threaten her with? Killing me?”

Sir Etienne seemed to sway for a heartbeat or two, then regained his composure. “Let us do this,” he said. “Let us cast our lot in together and go look for the gel. She has treasure enough for two, I’ll warrant.”

The man was inventive, Colin would give him that. And quick thinking. Apparently, though, he’d heard the tales of Colin’s prowess but chosen to ignore the tales of his principles. Stealing was not an activity he engaged in.

Instruction, however, was something he felt compelled by his knightly vows to undertake as often as circumstances warranted. And this fool here needed a lesson not only in manners, but in knightly comportment. And who better to see to remedying that lack than he?

He drew his sword. That was answer enough for Sir Etienne, he supposed, for the man cursed quite furiously and drew his own blade.

Colin wondered if Lord Denis would mind if his solar were razed if the cause were a just one.

The battle was fought silently except for the ring of swords and the occasional grunt. Colin did his best to avoid cleaving any furniture in twain, but unfortunately a stool or two fell victim to his ferocity.

As did Sir Etienne in time. Colin rid the man of his sword, his dagger, and then his dignity and the already mangled shape of his nose.

He supposed that perhaps breaking it a second time was unsporting, but then again, Sir Etienne had many of Aliénore’s bruises and cuts to pay for.

The memory of those, and of her tears, left him at his work far longer than usual.

It was with sincere regret that he watched a blow he dealt Sir Etienne under the chin plunge the man into senselessness.

Being that he wasn’t one to beat an unconscious man.

It wasn’t chivalrous, of course.

He lit a candle from a torch down the passageway and gave himself light enough to bind Sir Etienne securely.

The man would last there until morning. Colin left Lord Denis a short note regarding his wishes for Sir Etienne’s care, then took Sir Etienne’s weapons—given that the man would have little use for them where he was going for the next little while—and left the solar, shutting the door behind him.

It was then that he realized what had struck him as odd not a handful of moments before.

There was a lit torch in the passageway.

There hadn’t been such when he’d followed Aliénore to her father’s solar.

He paused, then shrugged. No doubt a guard had left it lit to make his rounds easier.

Or perhaps Sir Etienne himself had brought it to make it easier to examine his gold after having received it.

Whatever the case, it made little difference now.

What remained was for him to sleep for the night, rise, and see if he couldn’t shake Solonge’s dust off his feet before midday. He had absolutely no desire to linger.

He suspected Aliénore would feel the same way.

He walked quietly back to his chamber and lifted his hand to the door.

It wasn’t shut.

Colin lay Sir Etienne’s weapons on the ground, drew his sword, and fetched another lit torch. A quick but thorough look inside his chamber revealed no one but a serving wench who looked as if she stood to face her death at his hands.

“Where is the lad?” he demanded.

“The lady Marie bid him come upstairs to her private solar and have refreshment with her,” the girl said, her eyes wide, her chin quivering. “She bid you come as well when you arrived.”

Refreshment? At this hour? The only refreshing thing he would find would be Aliénore safe and Marie trussed up thanks to her stepdaughter’s skill with blade and rope.

Unfortunately, Colin hadn’t taught her any knots, and he wondered if she could possibly have managed to lay a hand on her dagger before her stepmother had dragged her away to her private chamber.

Obviously, Marie hadn’t been fooled by the conversings he’d tried to distract her with that afternoon. She had recognized Aliénore and come to fetch her. The only question now was, what had she done to the girl already?