She was appalled. "Removed? But where would they go? They belong here. Surely you cannot mean to force them out."
"I don't give a damn where they go," he countered in a hard voice.
"These… instructions were of extreme importance?"
"No."
"Then-"
"Each and every order must be followed," he said. "The importance isn't determined by the soldiers or servants."
Nicholaa was so infuriated by his unbending position that she wanted to scream. She was just as worried about her staff, though, and knew that shouting at her arrogant husband wouldn't help their cause. "You will not give them a second chance? One sin and they are condemned?" she asked.
"In battle a knight is never given a second chance."
"This isn't a battle."
Aye, it was a battle, he thought to himself. And Nicholaa was his opponent. He knew she was the one who had changed his orders. Now he wanted her to admit it. Then he would calmly explain the importance of organization, the necessity of a hierarchy, and where her place was in his household.
He almost smiled. His wife was so outraged she could barely sit still. The training had begun.
His voice was mild when he said, "Do not raise your voice to me, wife."
Nicholaa stared at her husband a long minute. He wasn't bluffing, she finally decided. She took a deep breath. She wasn't about to let her servants take the blame for her error in judgment. "I have a request, husband."
"What is it?"
"I would like to speak to the servants first, if you will allow my interference."
She was thankful when he simply nodded, a warm glint in his eyes, but she didn't understand the reason for his reaction.
The servants came hurrying into the great hall, some dressed in their nightclothes. Nicholaa stood up and walked around the table, her hands folded in front of her, her expression serene.
Alice was the last to join the group. Nicholaa nodded to her. "My husband has graciously allowed me to speak to you first," she began. She was pleased her voice didn't crack; her heart was about to. "Today your lord gave some of you specific orders."
Several servants nodded. Nicholaa smiled. "I changed those orders. That was thoughtless of me," she added. "And I apologize both to my husband and to you for creating confusion."
As she came to the difficult part, she took another deep breath. "In future, when my husband gives an order, you will obey it. If I should inadvertently contradict that command, please remind me that you must follow your lord's order. He is master of this holding now, and you must be loyal to him above all others."
Clarise took a step forward. "Above even you, milady?" she asked with a frown.
Nicholaa nodded. "Yes, above even me. Are there any other questions?"
"What if you be the one to give the order first and the baron changes it?" Alice called out.
"You will follow my husband's command, Alice."
The servants nodded. Nicholaa held on to her smile. "My husband would like to speak to you now."
She didn't turn to Royce but slowly walked out of the hall, hoping he wouldn't call her back. She knew she wouldn't be able to maintain her smile when she was feeling so bloody furious inside.
Nicholaa muttered to herself all the way up the stairs. Her husband was a cad. First he'd taken away her holding, and now he was determined to take away her servants' loyalty, too. It was all so unfair and damn lopsided, too. Why did she always have to be the one to give in? She supposed it was because the Normans had won the war. Still, she was Royce's wife now, and he should consider her opinions.
She passed her old chamber and decided to look in on Ulric. Surely the sight of the precious baby would remind her why she was trying to get along with her obstinate husband.
She tried to be as quiet as possible when she went inside so she wouldn't disturb the baby. Nicholaa was just closing the door behind her when she thought she noticed a movement in the shadows on her left. She instinctively turned. Then she tried to scream. A hand clamped down hard over her mouth to cut off the sound. Nicholaa was pulled up against what felt very like a stone wall.
She fought like a wild woman. She bit her captor's hand while she clawed at his arm with her nails.
"Damn it, Nicholaa. Stop it. It's me, Thurston."
She went limp against him. Her brother removed his hand and slowly turned her around to face him.
She couldn't believe her brother was standing there in front of her. She was overwhelmed. And terrified. "Are you out of your mind, Thurston?" she whispered. "Why would you take such a risk? How did you get inside? Dear God, if they find you here…"
Thurston put his arms around her and hugged her tight. "I came up through one of the secret passages. I had to see you, Nicholaa. I needed to make certain you were all right. God, I almost killed you, didn't I? When I saw the golden hair, I knew it was you my arrow had hit."
The anguish in his voice tore at her heart. "It was only a scratch," she lied.
"The Norman was in my sights, but at the last second you threw yourself in front of him. Why? Were you trying to protect him? It looked that way to me, but that explanation doesn't make any sense. Did you know I was there?"
"I saw you, Thurston. I guessed Royce was your target."
"Royce? Is that the name of your captor?"
"He isn't my captor," she whispered. "He's my husband."
Thurston didn't take that news well. He squeezed her arms with such force she knew she would have bruises, and the look in his blue eyes indicated his fury. Nicholaa pried his hands away while she tried to think of a way to make him understand. "There is much to talk about," she blurted out. "Don't judge me until you know all the facts."
She took her brother's hand and led him across the chamber and away from the sleeping baby.
Moonlight filtered through the window. Nicholaa lit a candle and looked up at her brother.
Thurston was every bit as big as Royce. Her brother had blond hair and an unscarred complexion. He was a handsome man, even when he was scowling, but he looked tired.
"You can't come back here," Nicholaa said. "Royce has found most of the passages. It's only a matter of time before he discovers the one that leads to this room, too. I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Nicholaa, were you forced to marry this Norman?"
There wasn't time to explain everything that had happened. Thurston would never understand, anyway. She took a deep breath. "No."
He didn't want to believe her. "You weren't forced?"
"No," she said again. "I chose him. If anyone was forced into this marriage, it was Royce, not me."
Thurston leaned against the window ledge. A clap of thunder sounded in the distance. Nicholaa jumped.
Her brother folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. "Why would you do such a thing?"
She knew the full truth would only fuel his anger. "If the circumstances were different, and if you could meet my husband, you'd know why I chose him. Royce is a good man, Thurston. He's been very kind to me."
"He's a Norman."
He spit that reminder out like a blasphemy. The fury in his voice made her stomach lurch. It made her angry, too. "The war's over, Thurston. If you don't kneel before William and give your pledge of loyalty, you'll be killed. I beg you, please accept this. I don't want you to die."
He shook his head. "The war isn't over," he said. "The resistance is growing stronger with each passing day. It's only a matter of time before we unseat the bastard Norman king."
"You cannot believe this foolishness," she cried out. Thurston let out a weary sigh. "You've been isolated here, Nicholaa. You can't understand. We have to leave now. My men are waiting outside the walls. Wrap Ulric in the blankets. Hurry, before the storm breaks."
Nicholaa was too stunned to react at first. Thurston towered over her. She took a step back, then shook her head. "I can't go with you. Royce is my husband now. I have to stay here."