Having tended to Horace together, Josse and the child went on into the house, to find her pacing to and fro in front of the fire.
Ninian had predicted she would be cross. In fact, she was furious. Josse, who knew full well that her anger was born of anxiety — he didn’t like to imagine what she must have felt on arriving home to find the child gone — let her rave for a while, then, with a protective arm around the boy, said mildly, ‘He’s safe, Joanna. Isn’t that all that matters?’
Instantly she rounded on him. ‘And just what do you think you’re doing here?’ she demanded. ‘Nobody comes here without being blindfolded! Not even you!’
Even in her fury, there was a brief glint of something else in her eyes as she stared at him. Something that suggested she remembered their last farewell as clearly as he did. He tried to ignore the blood beginning to pound through his body; now wasn’t the moment.
If there was ever going to be a moment.
‘I thought you were going to let me help you!’ he protested.
‘Whatever made you think that?’ she shouted. ‘Perhaps I might have been, before this! But now that I’ve seen how you wormed your way in, how you’ve played on my son’s youth to make him tell you where the house is, how you’ve — you’ve-’
He waited, but she didn’t seem to be able to think of anything else. ‘You’re not to be trusted!’ she finished.
Ninian wriggled out from beneath Josse’s arm, still round his shoulders, and rushed to his mother. ‘You mustn’t say that!’ he yelled at her, as furious as she was; he seemed, Josse reflected, to have inherited Joanna’s temper. Thumping at her stomach with both fists, Ninian cried, ‘I don’t want to be just with you anymore, I want him!’
‘Ninian, we-’ Joanna began.
But Josse interrupted her. Stepping forward, he grasped Ninian firmly by the upper arms and said quietly, ‘Ninian, a man never hits a woman.’
Ninian rounded on him, trying to break the grip of Josse’s strong hands and, when that failed, attempting a sly kick in the crotch. But Josse, who had several nephews, was used to small boys. Easily evading the child’s foot, he said, ‘And an honest fighter doesn’t do that, either.’
The small face was scarlet with rage, making the eyes even more blue in comparison. With a voice full of authority, Ninian said, ‘Let go of me.’
After a moment, Josse did so. With unexpected dignity, Ninian straightened his tunic. Then, turning first to his mother and then to Josse, he said, ‘I apologise.’
Josse bowed and said, ‘Accepted.’ Joanna, less easily mollified, merely sniffed.
‘I expect you’re going to send me to bed,’ Ninian remarked.
A smile twitched at the corners of Joanna’s mouth but she managed to suppress it. ‘Indeed I am,’ she said. ‘I wish to speak privately to Sir Josse.’
Ninian sighed. ‘Very well.’
Joanna took her son’s hand. ‘Come with me to the kitchen and we’ll put a tray of supper together for you,’ she said. ‘You can eat it in bed.’
Ninian turned to Josse. ‘I wish you good night,’ he said politely.
‘Good night, Ninian.’
The child paused. Glancing to see if his mother could hear — she had gone on ahead along the passage that, presumably, led to the kitchen — he said, ‘I’m still glad I brought you, even if she’s not.’ And he gave Josse a beaming smile.
‘I think she might be, just a little bit,’ Josse said softly back. ‘It’s just that sometimes people have a funny way of showing that they’re pleased.’
Ninian laughed happily. ‘Especially ladies,’ he said. ‘See you tomorrow!’
Especially ladies, Josse thought as the boy’s footsteps receded up the passage. Now how, he wondered, did the child know that?
* * *
It was some time before Joanna returned to the hall. Josse had made up the fire and the brilliant flames took the sombre darkness from all but the far corners of the room. Sitting on a leather-seated chair in front of the hearth, it was a luxury to feel warm.
‘Sorry I was so long,’ Joanna said, coming to sit on the floor by the fire; there was a loose pile of fur rugs and a few thin cushions to take the chill off the flagstones. ‘I was talking to Ninian. I had to make him see that he really must not tell people where this house is.’
‘Am I “people”?’
She glanced up at him. ‘How is a child of seven to know the difference?’
‘But-’ Josse began. And then stopped. She had, he realised, just played right into his hands.
‘Joanna,’ he said instead, ‘supposing it had been Denys de Courtenay who found Ninian’s camp today instead of me. What do you think would have happened?’
‘Ninian would never have brought him here!’
‘Does he know who Denys is? Have they met?’ She shook her head. ‘And have you told the boy about Denys?’
‘No! He — what Denys wants is — No.’
‘And does Denys know of Ninian’s existence?’
She gave him a very strange look. ‘Oh, yes. Indeed he does.’
‘Then, Joanna,’ Josse went on relentlessly, ‘just think about it. Denys knows you to be somewhere in this vicinity. He knows about Mag, he has tried and failed to make her tell him where this house is. In his hunt he comes across Ninian’s camp — it would be difficult, I grant you, the boy has hidden it well. But Denys might have seen the boy on his way to or from the vale. Somebody else might have seen Ninian, and sold the information to Denys for the price of a couple of drinks.’
She was looking pale. ‘I’ve been so careful!’ she whispered.
‘Of course you have! But, no matter how careful you are, you can’t cover every possibility.’
‘I can! I have done!’
‘Joanna, Denys tortured Mag!’ Josse said urgently, keeping his voice down — with difficulty — so that Ninian would not overhear. ‘Supposing she had given way and told him what he wanted to know?’
‘She wouldn’t!’ Joanna said scornfully. ‘She would have given her life for us, she knows what is involved and…’
‘She would have given her life,’ Josse repeated softly. ‘She did give it, Joanna.’ He got off his chair and went to kneel in front of her. Again, her nearness prompted his body to a response but he made himself ignore it. ‘And just think what might have happened if Denys had found Ninian out in the forest today. Might he not have used similar tactics to make your son tell him what he wanted to know?’
She gave a sort of gasp and her pale face went even whiter. She whispered, ‘No! Oh, don’t!’
‘I don’t say this to wound you,’ he said softly. ‘But you have to realise what Denys is capable of, what he might do in order to find you. And — What is it?’
For, amazingly, she had begun to smile. A very faint smile, but, without doubt, her expression had lightened, And a little colour was returning to her cheeks.
‘I have let your passion persuade me,’ she observed, sitting back on her heels and edging away from him slightly. The brief sparkle in her dark eyes suggested she knew very well what she was saying and had employed the words deliberately. ‘Which was foolish of me, sir knight.’
‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘I have persuaded you? Of what?’
She twisted her legs from beneath her and, pulling out a fold of the soft fur rug and covering herself with it, folded her arms on top of her raised knees.
‘Oh, I don’t blame you,’ she said, ‘I see full well that you are telling me what you think could well happen. And, were it any other man and any other child, I would agree. I, too, would think that Denys would use Ninian as he used Mag, to get to this house.’ She gave a great shudder. ‘To get to me.’ The dark eyes met Josse’s again. ‘And Denys, I assure you, would not hesitate to beat a child in order to get what he wanted.’
‘I need no assurance of that,’ Josse said quietly.
‘No, I’m sure you don’t.’ She was still watching him. He met her eyes, not looking away.