Her blunt honesty warmed him and he laughed. ‘I don’t feel a thing.’ His clothes were lying in an untidy jumble by the side of the trough. He picked them up, shrugged himself into his tunic, and in doing so noticed Ned Fletcher’s fair hair shining in the strengthening sun as the young sergeant looked down from the battlements. A silver-helmed guard came to stand at his side and then Ned Fletcher clapped his own helmet on, and Waldin could not mark the difference between them. Poor lad, Waldin thought sympathetically. He’s got it badly. He could ruin himself over her. Waldin had heard his brother and Yolande speaking in disparaging terms of their English sergeant’s infatuation with their daughter. Apparently the lad had been warned off, and if something were not done soon, he was heading for dismissal. A shame, Waldin reckoned, when of the dozen men currently manning his brother’s tower, the sergeant showed most promise. The two men withdrew from his sight, gone into the guardhouse, no doubt.

Waldin considered Gwenn. He had seen spoilt knights’ daughters by the waggonload on his travels, and most of them had their heads stuffed so full of their own consequence that they only counted the hearts they had broken. Had his brother bred another of these? He wanted to think there was more to his pretty niece than that.

Waldin did not view the Saxon’s lowly birth as being an impediment in the way his brother did. Waldin was no snob, far from it. He had seen many a low-born lad start life as a servant and work his way up to squire. A select few attained the dizzy heights of knighthood, and Waldin saw nothing wrong in that. Tested men often made better knights than those born to it. However, it was becoming clear that Ned Fletcher was unsuitable for his niece, although it was for none of the reasons Yolande and Jean had put forward.

‘I don’t believe in hiding things, you see,’ he said, rubbing his disfigurement as though it were a badge of honour. ‘I like them out in the open.’

A frown nicked Gwenn’s brow. ‘What do you mean, Uncle? You sound as though you’re trying to score a hit. Are you?’

Waldin grinned. He liked people who were quick off the mark. A swift glance assured him that Ned Fletcher had not reappeared on the battlements, and he plunged straight in. ‘What do you intend to do with Sergeant Fletcher?’

‘Do? Do I have to do anything?’

‘Aye. I think so.’

She looked puzzled.

‘I’m taking the liberty of telling you this, my dear, because I like you. But the way you have that young man on a leading rein man on is nothing less than a scandal.’

‘L...leading rein?’ Her mouth fell open. ‘But, Uncle, I’ve done nothing!’

Waldin impaled her with his hard gaze. ‘That’s not quite true, my dear, and if you give it but a moment’s thought, I think you’ll agree.’ Gwenn spluttered, but Waldin took no heed and thrust his point home. ‘I know you are young, and I know you are innocent. But unlike your parents, whose love blinds them to your faults, I see you clearly.’ Once more he ran his hand over the back of his head and gave her a wry grin. ‘As I said, I like things out in the open. And fortunately God blessed me with a few brains as well as brawn. That’s why I survived so long on the circuit. That’s why I see you so clearly. It’s no use your using your youth as a shield and hiding behind it.’

‘But, Uncle!’ Gwenn’s small bosom heaved, indignantly. ‘I am innocent, I swear.’

‘Not so innocent that you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re playing with that lad. Leave Sergeant Fletcher alone. He’s not for you.’

Her eyes smouldered. Her lips formed a resentful pout. ‘You’re beginning to sound like my father.’

‘I’ve not done, my girl. When I’ve had my say, you can have yours.’

She subsided, simmering.

‘Sergeant Fletcher’s not for you,’ Waldin allowed an understanding smile to lift one side of his mouth, ‘and the reason has nothing to do with his birth, and everything to do with the fact that you would swallow him up in one bite. Forget your pride, Gwenn. Let the lad go. Let him find someone more suited.’

‘Hell’s Teeth!’ Gwenn borrowed one of her brother’s curses. ‘What has pride to do with it?’

The smile reached the champion’s brown eyes, warming them to a rich mahogany. ‘Don’t swear, Gwenn. It doesn’t look pretty on you.’

‘Because I’m a girl,’ she said, nettled, ‘and girls mustn’t swear.’

Waldin was not tempted to go skirmishing down that blind alley. ‘It doesn’t look pretty on you. Think, Gwenn. Pride has a lot to do with it. Admit it. You love Ned Fletcher–’

She choked. ‘What?’

‘Hold your horses. You love Ned Fletcher’s being in love with you. You don’t love Fletcher himself, I’m well aware of that. It’s play to you.’ He leaned closer and took her arm, eyes serious. ‘But it’s not play to the Saxon. The lad truly loves you. Don’t hurt him. Find someone more like yourself to flirt with, someone who sees it as you do, as a game. Ned Fletcher doesn’t know the rules. You, however,’ the smile was back and with something approaching real affection Waldin flicked her nose, ‘were born knowing them.’

Gwenn swallowed, and Waldin had to hold down a laugh. He could see the struggle going on within her while she debated whether or not to be offended. He grinned. ‘And if you toss your head at me, I swear I’ll have you in that trough.’

She beat a hasty retreat. ‘Uncle, you wouldn’t!’

He raised an impudent brow. ‘Try me.’ Her shoulders began to shake. Her hand came up and hid a smile. She would do, he decided; a sterling girl.

‘Wretch!’ The sterling girl let out a throaty giggle. ‘And to think I expected my famous uncle to be the perfect, chivalrous knight.’

Waldin sighed hugely. ‘Life can be disappointing.’

‘It can. But your criticism is just,’ she admitted with admirable candour, and groped to express exactly how she felt. ‘I like Sergeant Fletcher, but as for loving him...’

‘There’s something missing, isn’t there?’ Waldin supplied gently. The look in her eyes told him he had hit the target.

‘Aye. I like his looks, his manners, his...everything, but,’ she spread slim hands, ‘perhaps the bit that’s missing doesn’t exist, except in my own mind?’ She looked to him for an answer, but Waldin didn’t have one to give her. She must find her own answers. ‘I’ll let Ned alone. You’ve helped me see how wrong I have been.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘But life will be tedious, Uncle.’

‘No it won’t. Pick someone else to play with.’

She made an impatient noise. ‘Who else is there? Ned is the only man around here who’s half way personable.’

Her uncle looked pained and struck his deep, barrel chest. ‘What about me? Ah, Gwenn, your insult cuts me to the quick. I’m standing before you, and you don’t even see me.’ He kept a straight face. ‘Look at me, Gwenn. I won’t make the cardinal sin of taking it to heart. I know it’s a game. I’m your uncle. You’d be safe with me.’

‘But you’re so...’ She flushed.

‘Ugly?’

Gwenn’s colour deepened, and she lowered her eyes. ‘My pardon, Uncle.’

Unperturbed, Waldin went down on one knee. ‘Fair lady,’ he said with a splendid flourish. ‘I beg you to grant me the honour of being your chevalier.’ He rolled his eyes in idiotic longing.

Gwenn felt a bubble of laughter rise within her.

‘I dream,’ Waldin was warming to his role, ‘of your long, dark tresses; of your eyes, dark and deep as pools in the wood.’

This last was too much. Frantically, she bit her lips, but a giggle escaped. ‘This is ridiculous.’

Waldin got up and dusted his knee. ‘But amusing? Not boring?’

‘Not in the least.’

‘So, my niece. You see how it can be fun, even with an ugly old bear like myself. And now that we have that settled, I want you to tie your favour round my arm, and I’ll take you, my lady,’ he bowed so low his forehead almost touched the ground, ‘for a ride.’