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admit at once that Sir Simon had not thought it fit to ask for her company and that he had not thought it fit to make suggestions to the King's warden. Sir Andre liked Sir Simon, but he also acknowledged him as the better man. Then let the better man with the greater authority bear the shock of Lady Alinor's displeasure. |
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"Well, Sir John?" Alinor prompted. |
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Sir John swallowed. It was ridiculous to be afraid of a sixteen-year-old chit whom he could break between his fingers, but he was. It was not a physical fear, of course. For fourteen years, since the death of Sir Adam, he had been trained to accept this child's word as law. Besides that, she had eyes to see the sore spots in a man's soul, and she could either prick at them or lay balm upon them. Sir Andre knew her better, and Sir Simon had the weight of the King's authority behind him. Let them fight their own battles. |
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"I do not know how it was decided, my lady," he mumbled. |
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There was a moment of silence while Alinor bit her lip, but her flash of rage was assuaged by Sir John's obvious discomfort. It could not profit her to vent her spleen upon him. He was not at fault. It could not even profit her to vent her spleen where it was deservedon Sir Simon. Not yet, not yet. If it killed her, she would enslave him. When she was done, he would ask her permission before he drew breath. |
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"Alack on me, Sir John," Alinor said lightly, "I am in ill humor because the gay doings of the past days are over. I am spoiled already by these courtly things and wrinkle my nose at the dull needful tasks of every day. I wished to ride out and make merry. Forgive me." |
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The scar-seamed, gray-haired warrior grinned with relief. If there was the sad necessity of a female heir, |
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