The Beekeeper

Chapter 10

She knew he was still watching her. She could feel the burn of his gaze.

Lord, why must he look at me that way?

It was so much easier to tolerate his evil glares, his looks of contempt. This heated stare that she felt directed at her - his suddenly soft way of speaking - was almost too much to take. The way he was fixing his gaze upon her, she could guess what he was thinking. Knowing the look of lust in a man's eyes, she could not let it continue without interruption. Without turning to him, she spoke as firmly as she could - despite the feeling of her heart beating like mad.

"You examine me, Sir Guy. Do you suddenly find something interesting in this humble beekeeper's assistant?"

There was a slight lingering moment before he replied. And when he spoke, the deep rumble of his voice - though slight - was unnerving.

"Perhaps I do."

She could sense his eyes still looking her over. For a moment, she was incapable of forming a response - only able to think and wonder what he would say next.

His reply was less than polite.

"There is little else for me to occupy my mind with."

Any physical response - any warmth she had started to feel - was glazed over with a frost, turned cold by his discourteous reply. She sighed, stung by his words. And yet, when he was being his typically boorish self, at least conversing with him was not so difficult. Still keeping her eyes averted from him, her tone was cold.

"Just when I think you capable of civility, you give another stick of the knife. I should cease any attempts of kindness on my part."

His response sounded odd, as if she had offended him.

"I am capable of civility," he said. "But such a weakness is not suited to a Master at Arms. What would you have me do when I arrest criminals, or collect taxes from delinquent villagers? Would you prefer that I shake their hands and ask them to share in a pint of ale?"

She shrugged. "I care not what you do when you go about your duties to the sheriff. It is of little consequence to me. But when you are in this house, you might make less of an attempt to bite the hand that feeds you."

He scoffed, giving a sort of laugh. "You speak of how I give you a 'stick of the knife' as you like to call it. But I dare say, you are not so innocent. You wound me in much the same way when it pleases you."

"It does not please me, my lord. It is merely done in self-defense."

His words became seemingly dark – almost serious.

"You are fortunate I do not correct you properly for such wickedness."

She knew that his words should probably have caused her concern. But as accustomes to his temper as she was becoming, she knew it was but an empty threat. If he truly meant to hurt her, he would have somehow managed it by now. Not once had he acted with any violence against her, or her family. And somehow, she sensed he was even less capable of it now. She thought to test her assumption. Feeling a bit bolder now, she turned to where he was seated - looking at him with a daring gleam in her eye.

"What would you do, Sir Guy? Pursue me on one foot, and then beat me about the head with a crutch?"

She saw how he tried to look away to disguise his amusement - but she caught the little crinkle that came to his mouth. She couldn't contain her own smile, even when he turned his eyes back to look at her - and the smile was gone.

"A good beating might serve you well. You are a hard-headed woman, Cassia."

She shrugged, turning back to the fire. "So you have said before."