The Winter Promise by Jenny Jacobs Page A

you had got over your enmity for her. She is quite a lovely person, as you would find if you would give her a chance.” After giving him a hard poke in the chest with her forefinger, Elizabeth floated off, shaking her head at his folly.
    Robert’s gaze stayed riveted on Imma and Osbrycht. Now Osbrycht smiled down at Imma, a victorious warrior, home from the battle. Robert knew exactly what Osbrycht was thinking. What better way to celebrate surviving another battle-season than to laugh with a pretty woman?
    His temper rose and he turned away from the offending pair. He forced himself to unclench his fists. What was wrong with him? What did he care? When did a woman matter to him? He didn’t care —
    Wheeling, he strode over to where the two stood. The smile faded from Imma’s face at his approach. She gave him a polite nod, as she always did. He knew that he deserved the coolness of her greeting. He never gave her more than a polite acknowledgment when they met in public. But now he would give anything to see her feelings plainly written on her face. Was she pleased to see him? He would welcome her smile at the sight of him. Or was she annoyed that he had interrupted her conversation with Osbrycht?
    Just then, the door to the great hall slammed open and Robert’s shire-reeve strode inside.
    “The thiefmen have attacked a village near Alor,” Graeme said, his words stopping all conversation. “They have utterly destroyed it.”
    Elizabeth dropped her cup. It fell to the floor with a crash she did not seem to notice as she met Robert’s eyes across the distance that separated them. “My God,” she said. She grasped the arm of her nearest neighbor to steady herself. “They have never been so bold as that.”
    “I believe they may be headed toward the abbey at Glastonbury,” the shire-reeve said.
    The abbey boasted rich treasures, granted by King Edward and Robert’s brother, John, as well as Elizabeth. To have such generous benefactors made the place a natural target for predators.
    Elizabeth made her way back to his side. Robert said to Graeme, “You will gather men tonight. We will ride out as soon as we are ready.”
    “The wolves always grow more desperate in winter,” Elizabeth said. “This has been a harder winter than most.”
    “I will be gone some little time,” Robert said to her. “I trust you to hold the keep.”
    “Very well,” Elizabeth said and for a moment, Robert wished he had any other choice. Elizabeth gave him a brief embrace. “Be careful, my dear. I should not like to lose you.”
    He bent to place a gentle kiss on her wrinkled cheek. He did not say a word to Imma, but turned and left the room.

Chapter Nine
    On the fourth morning after Lord Robert’s departure, Imma went into the small chamber where he kept his book hoard and did his bookwork. Elizabeth had asked her to find another volume to read aloud, probably hoping to ease the restlessness both of them were feeling. She stood just inside the threshold and inhaled his lingering scent. It was possible she was just imagining that, but even if she were, his presence still permeated the room.
    If only he would return home unharmed. She worried, though she had not right to worry. Wrapping her fist around the necklace she wore, she stared blindly out the window.
    “It is you.”
    The harsh words, uttered in Welsh, made Imma. She whirled to see who had addressed her. A tall, fierce-looking man stood in the doorway.
    “Malcolm?” she gasped. Her cousin, her uncle’s eldest living son. “But what — ”
    Then he smiled and she found herself caught up in his exuberant embrace. “The soldiers said there was a Welsh lady in the household,” he said. “I never expected it would be you. I thought you were in Canterbury.”
    She lifted her head from where she’d buried it in his shoulder, clinging to him as if he might save her from her foolishness. “Simon died,” she said. “Have you not heard?”
    Malcolm tilted her chin up,