Page 18 of Heart of the Hunter (Band of Bastards #3)

“If they grew suspicious, or realized I was a woman in disguise, then I was going to first tell them a similar story I told the guards tonight: I was there for a clandestine meeting with a man who said he loved me but then never arrived.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “You said earlier you planned to say you were a family friend and needed the baron’s advice. Neither is a good story, but which is it?”

“If I were captured or in danger, then I planned to use the connection between our families and the lie of seeking the baron’s advice.”

He could tell by the way she rolled her lips between her teeth and looked away from him as she spoke that she was well aware of how foolish her plan sounded.

He let his arms fall to his side, looked around the small hut, then dropped down on the opposite end of the wide bench along the wall.

He tipped his head back against the wall as he sprawled his legs out in front of him with a loud, frustrated sigh.

“I know it doesn’t sound like a well thought out plan,” she said quickly, “but I can be very persuasive when needed. I have to work within the limits of what I have available to me.”

He turned his head to see her looking at him with a steady gaze.

“I am available to you. All you need do is ask me and I am yours to command.” It was true.

He might shout at her, want to throttle her, glare at her, and grumble about her recklessness, not because he thought so little of her, but because he was afraid of losing her—even if she weren’t his to lose.

But he would rather see her alive and well and out of his reach than dead or harmed.

“I believe you.” The features of her face softened as a sad smile shaped her lips and she slowly shook her head. “But it is not what I want from you. I must learn to think and do for myself.”

“You are a headstrong and stubborn woman, Anora.”

“Is that so?” Her eyes flashed, the challenge evident in the way her sleek eyebrows rose in unison. “Headstrong and stubborn? If I were a man, you’d think those qualities admirable.”

She was right about that. He did think them admirable qualities, even in her.

But he couldn’t let her know that lest it encourage her to continue putting herself in danger.

He could tolerate a man facing danger and death, but not Anora.

He’d lost too many women in his life, or watched them suffer the unspeakable, all of which hardened him.

But to watch Anora be harmed, that would be the death of him.

He’d dive headfirst into a bed of nails before he would let anyone hurt her.

He knew far too well the ways men could degrade a woman, reduce her to nothing more than a soulless shell, because he’d witnessed it more times than he could count.

He had to stop thinking on the horrors that could befall her before his imagination went to places that would turn him into the feral animal he barely kept contained just beneath the surface of his skin.

“You told me how you got into the castle, now tell me why you were there.” He couldn’t imagine she was a simple thief. She must have been looking for something specific. “And don’t say curiosity.”

With her legs still tucked under her, she shifted on the bench to face him. She was quiet for a long moment as she studied him intently. He could almost see the thoughts rolling around behind her eyes. Finally, she said, “I was there to prove a point.”

“What point?” he prodded when she didn’t elaborate.

“That I will not sit back and allow some man to take advantage of me.”

His head pounded as the blood thrummed from her words. He jumped to his feet and demanded, “What did he do to you? I will make him pay with his life if he touched you.”

Anora looked startled by his outburst. She held up her hands and said in a calm voice, “He didn’t touch me. Please, sit back down.”

Hunter did as requested but his head continued to pulse with his anger.

“You said all I need do is ask, so I’m asking.” She narrowed her eyes and leveled a challenging stare at him. “Are you a man of your word, Hunter?”

The woman was shrewd, he’d give her that.

He did not have much to offer anyone, save a talent for dark deeds, but he did have his own code of honor and that included being a man of his word.

“I did say that,” he admitted, “but I first you must tell me exactly what you are asking for and why. I am assuming there is more to this display tonight than the thrill of being where you don’t belong. ”

“There is.” She nodded slowly as she studied him with suspicion.

After a moment, she nodded with what appeared to be resolution and said, “Show me how to take back from others what is mine; how to protect myself, the goldsmith shop, and my father as he gets older; teach me what I need to do to stop others from believing they can take advantage of me, rob me, or force me to their will. And don’t look at me like it is impossible.

There are women who are acting as matriarchs of castles, or who run alehouses, inns, and… well, brothels.”

She at least had the decency to blush as she said the last. “You want to be a woman who lives by her own means? Completely without the protection of men?”

“Yes!” Her entire face glowed with excitement and hope.

It killed him to dampen her enthusiasm, but what she wanted was impossible.

He did not want to mislead her, so he pointed out what she seemed to be missing about the women she listed.

“I assume you are speaking about the Lady of Clun when you speak of women ruling castles.” Isabella Mortimer, Lady of Clun, was the daughter of Roger Mortimer—a powerful lord who was loyal to King Edward and dominated the Welsh Marchers until his death two years prior in the final months of the king’s conquest of Wales.

The daughter was nearly as formidable as the father.

Anora nodded vigorously. “She rebuilt the castle on the hill above the village and readied the fortress in preparation for King Edward’s battles with the Welsh.

I saw her often in Oswestry. She even came to the smithy once to inspect Sumayl’s work on the swords commissioned by her commander of the garrison. ”

Her eyes lit up when she spoke of the woman.

He imagined many of the women of Oswestry revered Isabella Mortimer and were emboldened by the woman’s command of a strategic fortress.

But there were differences between Isabella Mortimer and Anora that could not be disregarded.

“Her status as a noblewoman and widow give her rights other women do not have, and she had a garrison of men to protect her.”

“I may not be noble, or a widow, but the law says that I shall inherit my father’s goldsmith shop when he—” She swallowed hard. “When he is gone, regardless of my state of matrimony. There are other women who run shops and establishments, and I want to do the same.”

“If they are truly alone, it is not easy for those women. And they are not selling goods as coveted as gold, silver, and gems. Once word gets out that you are alone in a goldsmith shop, you will be the victim of endless robberies.” He waited for her to lift her eyes too look at him again, then added, “Or worse. You will not be given the same respect as a widow, and without a brother or father to protect you, too many men will think it is their right to take advantage of you—in business, or otherwise.”

She flinched, a barely perceptible ripple of fear in her tightened jaw muscles, but she did not look away from him.

“That is why I am asking you to help me. The thieving has already begun, and men already are trying to take advantage of my father’s declining health.

Sumayl will always do what he can for us, but I fear for him.

He is one of the strongest men I know, but as a foreigner, if anything happens, it will be assumed he is at fault.

And like my father, he is getting older. ”

“What do you mean the thieving has already begun?” Her eyes widened and he realized he’d bellowed the question.

She lifted her chin and set her lips in a thin line. “If you agree to help me, I will tell you more about it.”

“No. I will not help you,” Hunter said, his voice churlish. He pushed to his feet and paced the tiny room as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s time you found yourself a husband to keep you in hand.”

It was the cruelest thing he could think to say to her, and it sickened him.

Sickened him to think of her being forced to bend to the will of another man and sickened him that he would tell her it was what she needed.

But he could think of no other way to save her from herself.

“Pick one of them—the butcher, or farmer, or goldsmith—and have a family. That will keep you busy and out of trouble.”

Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut, but the disgust was clear in her voice as she spoke through clenched teeth. “You don’t know me very well, Hunter, if you think that is the solution. I don’t have the makings of a good wife, and because of men like you, I never intend to marry.”

“Of course you will marry. It can’t be that hard to be a good wife.” It would bring him to his knees to see her married to another man, but it was a pain he’d have to suffer.

“Is that so?” She laughed bitterly. “ I can be a good wife?”

“Aye, you can,” he said irritably.

She pushed to her feet and stomped toward him.

“I’ve grown into womanhood without a mother to guide me.

I was raised by my father, an older brother, and a blacksmith who taught me how to climb trees, wield a knife, and shoot a bow better than most boys.

Any man who deigned to marry me would regret it the moment he realized I do not have the disposition to be coquettish, keep a home, coddle children, or obey .

” She visibly shuttered as she said the last.

It was true that Anora didn’t have the traditional upbringing of a girl, and she was not a common woman.

Many girls grew to womanhood without the guidance of a mother, but not many grew up with a father who encouraged his daughter to speak her mind so freely or express her opinions so boldly.

It was apparent from the time he’d spent in their household that Frode admired his daughter’s intellect and courage, and he did everything in his power to foster those traits.

Others would have said placing more boundaries on her was merely teaching her the necessary limits of being a woman, but Frode would never consider stifling the light that made his only daughter shine.

In truth, it would break Hunter to see that brightness dimmed in Anora.

He knew too well the wilted look of a women who had all of the light and goodness snuffed out of them.

Anora’s exuberance was what he loved most about her, and it would make his life easier if she were less of a force drawing him into her.

But he would never wish for her to be anything other than whom she was now, even if his entire being longed for her whenever he was in her presence.

And when he was away from her, he ached for her bright smile and easy laugh.

She wasn’t smiling or laughing now, though.

“I will find a way, Hunter,” she said calmly without looking at him. “You can either help me or get out of my way. But do not tell me ever again to just find a husband.”

His heart twisted painfully as he watched her pick up her saddle bag and walk out the door of the hut. It was what he wanted, for her to hate him, to put a barrier between them that would protect her from him, but still he felt the loss of her far too keenly for his liking.