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George cast a glance over his shoulder, half worried, half fond as he watched Alanna exchange pleasantries with one of the market stallholders. He hoped the trader couldn’t read the awkward stiffness in the future lady’s stance. He’d known how nervous she had been about this first visit to the Swoop, and it was going about as badly as he’d feared.
It had started well. They’d ridden in two days earlier on a bright blustery afternoon whose scudding clouds had framed the Swoop’s clifftop eerie perfectly, and Alanna’s reaction had been everything George could have hoped. He hadn’t realised how nervous he was till he’d found himself holding his breath, a lad taking his sweetheart to his favourite spot, as she scanned the rolling ocean from the lord’s tower. The look on her face as she turned to him, though – well. The Swoop would do, it seemed, and nicely so. The view had been swiftly forgotten, and he was fairly sure they’d scandalised the gulls circling overhead with what came next.
That night a summer squall had rolled in, not uncommon along this stretch of coast and they’d sheltered inside the Swoop’s thick walls the whole next day, exploring its hidden corners and secret passages, claiming the castle as their own. With only a handful of staff so far – George was taking no chances and everyone was being thoroughly vetted by both him and Myles – they had taken full advantage of their privacy. His body warmed just to think on it.
But today had dawned clear and calm so they were due to visit the town – and Alanna had spiralled. “Might you be overthinkin’ this?” he asked as she vacillated between dress and breeches. He wished he’d bitten his tongue when she glared at him, tried to reason it out, made it worse.
“This is different,” she insisted, when he finally gathered his sex-addled senses enough to shut the hell up. “Yes, I visit lots of places. Visit. I turn up, do – something – and ride away again. A convenient legend. I can’t just ride away here! They’re stuck with me!”
Only she would call being a legend convenient. Throwing back the covers, he loped over to wrap his arms around her. “Stop your worryin’. They’ll love you.”
“I’m not loveable,” she grumbled into his bare chest and he chuckled. “Ain’t put me off yet.”
Now, watching her in the market, he smiled as he remembered how she had growled before snatching the breeches he’d passed her. “They’ll be expecting a lady,” she’d muttered but he’d hushed her. ”They’re expectin’ you. So be you.” And she was, but a stilted version of her, and the townsfolk knew enough of the legend of the lady knight, the Champion, the Lioness, to be awed and awkward in turn. So Alanna was nodding stiffly, and they bowed and bobbed equally stiffly and George was tempted to start a riot just to shake them all out of it.
With a wave to the men he’d been chatting to he went to rescue her, slipping an arm round her waist. It made her stiffen further but a gentle squeeze had her relax ever so slightly into him and the trader smiled, seeing how she looked up at her fiancé. “If I can steal the lady?” George asked politely, steering her away before she could see the relief in the man’s eyes.
“There’s something I’d like you to see,” George murmured, walking her to a stall at the far end of the row where she rewarded him with a gasp of genuine pleasure. “A herbalist?” This time he let her slide out of the circle of his arm as excitement chased away her distant expression. Constipated noble, George was wont to call that look though never, ever, where the lass could hear. There were some risks even he stepped back from.
“Best herbalist along the Emerald coast, if I do say so myself.” The surprisingly young woman behind the table bobbed a curtsey but as George had hoped she showed no signs of being awed. Even better, Alanna brightened further at the informality, before exclaiming over the herbs and remedies laid out for perusal. Soon she and the herbalist were deep in debate about – of all things – the best ways to separate wolfsbane’s healing properties from its murderous ones. Picking out a selection of preparations, Alanna didn’t notice the wink the herbalist gave George, or the grateful smile he offered in return.
Their curious audience began to trickle away too and as Alanna’s squared shoulders gradually eased, George slouched against an awning post, enjoying the light summer breeze and the sight of his fiancée in equal measure. He was about to entice her away before she spent their entire fortune on potions when a commotion brought both of them to sharp attention.
“Someone help him!” a woman’s voice screamed. Alanna was already darting through the crowd. George’s wider shoulders had to push where she had slipped and by the time he reached her she was crouched beside a youth sprawled on the ground. “What’s his name?” she demanded, her fingers pressed to the young man’s neck, eyes unfocussed in what George recognised as her healer’s stare.
There were no signs of violence on the youth but his stillness was all too familiar. “Mistress!” Alanna snapped at the girl wringing her hands beside the youth’s body. “His name!”
“Ja – Jacob,” she sobbed, plucking at his sleeve and Alanna shoved her back. “Give him space.” She bent over so her ear was inches from his blue mouth, and grimaced. “Back, mistress,” and even as she spoke she drew up her fist and thumped it into the youth’s chest with all her force, making his body judder. The girl – his sweetheart? – screamed, flailing at Alanna.
“George!”
He’d barely needed Alanna’s call as he slung a long arm around the girl’s waist, dragging her back, wincing as she landed a lucky kick on his shin though his grip didn’t loosen. “Calm yourself, lass. She knows what she’s doing.” And Goddess, but he hoped she did as Alanna’s fist slammed into the lad’s chest again. “Come on, Jacob!” she hissed at the body.
No-one else had dared interfere but half the town was now gathered again to ogle at their future lady punching the motionless boy. Alanna ignored them, her entire being focussed on Jacob as she folded one palm over the other and pressed down on his still chest, hard enough that George winced again. And again, as she repeated the motion four, five times before moving her ear over his mouth again, then repeated the presses.
George could hear the crowd muttering around him. “Let her work!” he barked, all the force of the Rogue behind his words sending a roiling wave of quiet over them. The girl in his grip had lapsed into quiet sobs and George passed her off to his seneschal who had stepped up beside him. The crowd had subsided but he couldn’t blame them for their nerves at the scene unfolding before them. He was balanced, ready to react when a calm voice spoke up. “Let me help,” and the herbalist slipped round him to kneel on the boy’s other side, tucking her skirts neatly under her.
“Can you do what I’m doing?” Alanna demanded, not looking up.
The herbalist nodded, and Alanna pulled back, brushing her hair away from her face with the back of her hand. “Here – over his heart.” She shifted the young woman’s hands a little higher, then nodded. “Five compressions, then stop.” As the herbalist obeyed Alanna tipped the boy’s lifeless head back, pinching his nose and as soon as the woman sat back, she pressed her mouth over the boy’s, breathing out. A gasp ran through the crowd as his chest rose, but it stilled again as Alanna sat up. “Dammit, Jacob,” she hissed, and, “Again!” at the herbalist.
For an endless time they alternated, compressions, breaths. “You are not dying on me,” Alanna muttered, after Goddess knew how many rounds. Nudging the herbalist back, she delivered another vicious thump to the boy’s chest. George heard a crack of bone – and a hoarse gasp as the lad jerked, and began to cough. “There you are,” Alanna snapped, rolling him onto his side with hands far gentler than her voice.
The girl in the seneschal’s grasp let out a sob. “He – is he alright? Please tell me he’s alright!”
It was the herbalist who answered. “Let the lady tend him, Bess. She knows what she’s doing.”
“But – but she beat him!” the girl wailed and the herbalist tutted. “Hush your foolishness. Jacob’s heart was stopped. The lady needed to startle it back to its job.” Her common sense was bracing, and not only for the girl; George could feel the air loosen across the square, heard the tenor of the crowd tip from panic to relief even as Jacob shifted – feebly, but enough to further reassure. As did Alanna’s words, even though she spoke only for the lad. “Careful now,” she soothed him, easing him onto his back again. “You gave your girl – Bess, is it? Gave her quite a shock, you did. One way to get her attention, eh?”
A quiet chuckle spread around them, matching the pride spreading through George’s bones. That was his girl, right there, now she wasn’t fretting on the stares and whispers. His scratchy, loveable girl.
“Can we get a trestle over here?” Alanna asked, and several men leapt to help. Within minutes, Jacob was eased onto a spare trestle under her careful direction before she looked around. “Bess?” She held out a hand to the girl. “Come and tell your man how brave he is.” She stepped back as the girl leant over Jacob, smiling now through her tears.
“He’ll need rest, and tending. Lots of it,” Alanna murmured to George who cocked his head to the seneschal.
“They’re new wed, living with Jacob’s family, not far from here,” he offered. “His mother’s a fair nurse."
"Perfect. Can they take him there? I need to fetch my healer kit, but I’ll be along later. And be gentle with him!”
As the seneschal hurried off to direct the men, the herbalist came to Alanna’s side. Alanna gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
The woman smiled. “Glad to help. What ailed the lad?”
“A block in his heart. It’s rare in one so young, but it happens. I’ve not seen it myself but Baird – the Royal healer – he’d told me about it.”
“He was fortunate you were here, my lady.” The men were heading off, Jacob slung carefully between them and the herbalist excused herself to follow. “I’ll keep an eye on him, till you return.”
Alanna and George watched as the men balanced the makeshift stretcher. “A block?” he asked softly and she shrugged. “I’ve cleared it, and it shouldn’t return. He’ll recover, but it will take time.”
“Still, he’s alive, and with his sweetheart. Tanis is right, lass – he owes you his life, that lad.”
“Tanis?”
George’s jaw twitched but he said easily, “The herbalist.”
For a moment longer she watched the little group start to move, then turned back to him, her sweet smile making his breath catch. “I’m glad I could help.”
“My lady?” They turned to see Bess hovering awkwardly. “I – I – oh…” and she threw her arms around Alanna. “Thank you – oh, thank you!”
It took a moment but then Alanna closed the embrace, patting the girl’s shoulder. ”He’ll need you, Bess,” she warned. “You look after him, now. I’ll be by later to check on him.”
Bess wiped at her eyes as she stepped back. “I will, my lady.” She trotted after the men, taking Jacob’s hand as he was carefully carried from the square. The market settled back around its new lord and his lady, though several people paused with words of thanks, or welcome, or invitations, all of which Alanna accepted warmly.
At last they were free to walk back to the castle but when George went to take her hand, she snatched it back, placing fists on her hips. He eyed her warily. “Problem, lass?”
“Don’t you lass me, George Cooper.”
He paused to parse her face before proceeding – very carefully. “I just thought –“
“You just thought I’d go all constipated noble on you and you needed a helping hand.”
“We-ll,” he drawled, spreading his hands innocently. She wasn’t yelling so he felt safe. Relatively. “Jacob was nothing to do with me.”
She cocked her head. “Do you think you’d still have your ears if I thought otherwise?”
That made him laugh out loud and he slung an arm around her shoulder, taking confidence from the fact that she didn’t shake him off. “You spent far too much time with reprobates as a young lad.”
“Whose fault was that? And don’t change the subject. You planted Tanis.”
“Planted is harsh, darlin’. She’s here three days a week.”
“George –“
“But,” he admitted, “I did think you and she might get along. Shared interests, like.”
She let him gently tug her along before asking, “Is she a healer?”
“No. But she’s a way with herbs, and animals.” And nervous nobles. “I thought you might find her useful.” That canny part of him had kicked in the first time he’d come across Tanis’ crowded herb stall and he’d known straightaway that Alanna would be all over the wares on display, the scents that took him right back to Eleni’s workroom – and when he’d started chatting to Tanis herself, he’d not doubted that his lass would find common ground with her.
And he had been worried about bringing the lass down here, new home, new husband, new life so far from what she’d always known. He knew he couldn’t keep her here always. Her duty – her heart – would always be tied to Jon, and she would roam on her own account. That was their deal. He just wanted to make this a place she would want to come back to, to make the Swoop her home, and he’d use every trick in his book to make that happen.
Of course she was wise to him, smart lass that she was, and she had spent too much time with this reprobate, at least. “You don’t need to coddle me,” she said now. “But –“ she shot a shy glance up at him from those beautiful violet eyes. “Yes, I like her. So thank you.”
He pulled her to a halt, swinging her round in front of him. She braced her hands on his chest, face suspicious. “What are you doing?”
“Stealin’ a kiss from the lady of Pirate’s Swoop.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, laddybuck,” she said tartly. “Besides, people are watching!”
“Let them watch. Let them know their new lord is mad in love with their future lady, and he ain’t the kind of lord to hide it.”
She snorted. “He ain’t any kind of – “ his lips stopped hers, stealing her words. Folk were watching, of course they were after what had happened, and her being who she was. Most of those looks were indulgent and those that weren’t? Fuck ‘em. George was his own kind of lord, and he was starting how he meant to go on.