By Right of Arms by Robyn Carr

and tractable. When Hyatt rose to greet her, his eyes glowing appreciatively and a smile on his lips, she thought she had been very clever.
    She curtsied before her father. He took her hand immediately, causing her to rise so that he could embrace her. “Thank God, Aurélie,” he said hoarsely. “You must believe I suffered with worry.”
    Three years had passed since Aurélie had seen him. When his mighty arms encircled her, it nearly brought her to tears. Her ambivalent feelings tore at her. Her beloved father! Her betraying father! She could not find her true emotions as they bombarded each other with painful, crashing doubt.
    “But you are strong,” he went on, crushing her in his zeal. He held her away from him. “I beg forgiveness for Giles. I did not think he would take up arms; I thought he would yield the day.”
    “You must have known he would defend De la Noye,” she said softly, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice.
    “My daughter,” he sighed, his tired, wrinkled eyes beseeching her understanding. His beard had bleached whiter, his skin was looser and sagging, and although he was generous of build, he crouched slightly now and she felt his aging bones as if they splintered in her hands. He was too old to live through many more summers. “What did I think?” he went on. She saw the tears gather in the fold under his eyes and for a moment she pitied him. “I thought Giles would send troops, that he would lose a fair number of archers and knights. I thought there would be sufficient damage to De la Noye.
    I knew, my Aurélie, there would be war … I have seen much of war in my life.
    “But I thought Giles would surrender when he knew he was beaten.”
    Aurélie looked down at the floor, trying to still her threatening tears. She could not have expected more from her father. He appreciated Giles’s scholarly wisdom but criticized his lack of knightly skills. He had expressed his worry for her safety for years, accusing Giles of being unable to protect her. Had it not been for the vast richness of De la Noye and the power of the de Pourvre family, she would not have been given to Giles in marriage. But all that had changed when King Edward proclaimed himself King of France and the countries were at war. Her situation worsened when the old Sire died and Giles was left to manage armies, a prospect for which he had no talent. Giles had, many times in the past, chosen any alternative to fighting. Although her losses were great, Aurélie had to accept that her father neither desired nor aided her widowhood.
    In a surge of grief, her honesty broke through her barrier of cunning. She completely forgot Hyatt’s close presence. “I begged him not to go,” she admitted. “His men-at-arms would have done better without him.”
    Lord Lavergne clung to her again. “I did not think he would. God rest him, at least he died an honorable death.”
    Again the aging lord held her away. “All is not lost, daughter. There is still much to salvage.” He looked at Hyatt. The younger knight nodded and moved to the stair. “We are allowed a private conference; a great concession from a man who cannot be sure he is among friends,” he confided softly.
    Aurélie’s eyes were drawn to a movement across the room and looked past her father to see the large knight, Girvin, rise to his feet and begin to cross the room. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of the broadsword belted at his waist. His narrow, glittering eyes scanned the room and he came to stop just behind Aurélie and her father. His intention was clear; he would be closeted with them.
    She let her eyes move from the fearsome vassal to Hyatt. “He does not jeopardize his safety, Father,” she said, an edge to her voice. “We will make all the concessions. Rest assured.”
    Hyatt smiled at her remark and reached a hand out to her as if he would escort her.
    She chose obedience and took the proffered hand, going with Hyatt to the lord’s chamber, Lord