“Sir Peter?” Liora whispered loudly, incredulously. “What are you doing here?”
Peter found himself gazing up into Liora’s beautiful face. Her hair was braided for sleep and she was wrapped in a shawl against the cold night air. When he was over the surprise of realizing she had made an appearance, he smiled weakly.
“How did you know I was here?” he asked.
She cast him a long look. “Because I have ears,” she said. “I heard you ride up and you did not ride away, so I peeked from the window and saw you. What are you doing here?”
There was that question again, the one he had avoided the first time. He felt like an idiot.
“You would not believe me if I told you,” he said. “I am hiding again.”
Liora frowned, but it was one of those frowns that suggested she was trying not to smile. “Good heavens,” she said as if he were quite foolish, indeed. “Don’t tell me that Lady Agnes is chasing you again.”
He nodded slowly and deliberately. “Along with her father,” he insisted. “I was only now at a feast where the king was due to arrive and those two chased me right out of the hall. I am fearful they are following me, so I came here. You hid me successfully once before. I was hoping you would do it again.”
She shook her head reproachfully, but her smile broke through. “Truly, Sir Peter,” she said. “Are you always such a coward when it comes to women?”
“When it comes to that woman.”
She covered her mouth with a pale hand, chuckling but not wanting him to really see it. Still, he knew, because he was grinning also.
“I cannot admit you to the yard,” she said. “My father would be very angry if he found out.”
He shrugged, as if he’d known such a thing all along. “Then I suppose I shall have to take my chances,” he said. “But I was hoping to at least speak with you again. I very much enjoyed our conversation earlier.”
Her smile faded as she looked at him. “That is kind,” she said. “You were in trouble and I gave you shelter. It was the right thing to do.”
“I am in trouble now. Will you not give me shelter?”
“I am sorry to say that I do not truly believe you are in trouble.”
Peter realized she evidently wasn’t as glad to see him as he was to see her. That was a blow to his pride, but it was also a blow to the attraction he felt towards her. He’d been so sure it had been mutual and it was a shock to realize that it wasn’t. He struggled not to feel foolish, but in that realization, he thought he should make his intentions clear. Perhaps if she knew, she might realize that he was here because of her – not because he was allegedly being chased by Agnes.
He had nothing to lose by telling her the truth.
“You are correct,” he said. “I am not. But I really did run from Agnes on this night. She and her father are attending the same feast that I am, and when I saw them, I ran. But I did not have to come here. I came because I wanted to see you again. My apologies if you do not feel the same way, but never in my life have I seen a more beautiful, witty woman and I simply wanted to talk to you again. Forgive me if this is an imposition, Demoiselle. All you need do is tell me to go away and I shall. I shall not return.”
It was a surprisingly little speech and Liora simply looked at him. In truth, she didn’t know what to say. What had been an unexpected but very pleasant encounter with a Christian knight earlier in the day had now taken on dimension and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it.
How she could feel about it.
Peter de Lohr was nothing short of magnificent. With his blond hair, shadings of a beard, and piercing dark eyes, he looked like an archangel. As if he’d just stepped out of the halls of heaven and ended up in her kitchen yard. He was completely out of place in this district, the kvartal, and the fact had not been lost on Liora. But he was so glorious and golden that she did what she probably should not have done – she spoke to him.
But she couldn’t help herself.
In her world, there were no knights, no great and shining examples of nobles or lords or ladies, so Peter had been an anomaly. Something she’d hardly had any experience in. He was funny, sweet, and the way his eyes glimmered at her made her heart leap strangely. She’d never experienced anything like it in her life.
And just as swiftly as he’d appeared, he’d departed.
But the truth was that she had been thinking of him since she’d met him. All through dinner, helping her mother serve savory soup and boiled beef, she had been thinking about that English knight. Asa had blabbed it to her father, who was curious about it and nothing more. Liora explained what had happened and Haim, who was much more accustomed to knights and lords because they were his customers, simply brushed it off and went on to the next subject.
But not Liora.
Peter had lingered in her mind.
And now, here he was, confessing something that took her completely by surprise. Had she had an ounce of sense, she would have bid him a good evening and shut the window, but she couldn’t quite seem to do it.
I simply wanted to talk to you again.
It was enough to make her feel giddy all over again.
“You are always welcome in my father’s home,” she said, thinking she probably shouldn’t say it, but she couldn’t stop herself. “It is very late and I am afraid I cannot come out to commiserate with you about Lady Agnes, but I shall be returning from the market early tomorrow morning should you wish to continue this discussion.”
Peter grinned. “I do,” he said quickly. “But I do not wish to speak of Lady Agnes. Anything but her.”
Liora smiled, revealing lovely white teeth in a smile. “Then surely we can find subjects that are more pleasant,” she said. “Good evening to you, Sir Peter.”
That smile made Peter’s knees go weak. Truly, he’d never seen anything so beautiful. “Good evening to you, my lady. Sweet dreams.”
Her gaze lingered on him a moment before she pulled the shutters and closed the window. She had the very rare feature of actually having a glass window that opened, so she closed it and pulled the oil cloth. As Peter watched, the faint light in the chamber was snuffed out. Like an idiot, he grinned all the way back to Lonsdale, never giving a second thought that he should probably be heading back to Hollyhock.
But he just didn’t care.
With what he had to look forward to tomorrow, he didn’t give a lick about anything.
CHAPTER FOUR
“You do not seem to understand, Lady Hereford,” Walter de Quincy said. “Agnes is very fond of Peter and he is very fond of her. Your husband has all but confirmed that.”
Seated at a smaller table below the dais in the very crowded hall of Hollyhock House, Dustin didn’t believe Walter for an instant. She’d only met him on a few occasions, when there were events on the Marches that required a gathering of the allies, so her experience with him wasn’t vast. But it didn’t have to be. Within the first five minutes of the conversation with Walter and his daughter, Dustin could see that the man was a liar and a schemer. For a woman who didn’t take well to liars, schemers, or politicians of any sort, it was a struggle for her not to call the man out and insult him to his face.
Desperately, she was trying to be tactful.
“I am quite certain that my husband has not confirmed Peter’s interest in your daughter nor his fondness of her, my lord,” she said steadily. “In fact, he has sent me on his behalf to speak with you on the matter.”
Walter’s eyebrows lifted as if he were completely surprised by her attitude. “My lady?”
Dustin held up a hand to ask for his silence and attention. “Please, allow me to finish,” she said. “You must understand something about Peter, my lord. He is my husband’s eldest son and his marital prospects are great, but I suppose you already know that or you would not be pushing so hard. Permit me to remind you that the harder you push, the more you risk pushing him away.”
Walter’s expression bordered on insulted. “Push?
I am certain I do not know…”
Dustin cut him off. “Stop following him,” she said pointedly, looking between Walter and his plain-faced daughter. “Stop sending spies out to find him. Stop following him everywhere he goes. Stop sending him notes at all hours of the day and night. Two nights ago, he received no less than ten messages between sunset and sunrise and it was most disruptive to my household. Truly, you need not pursue him so hard because it is turning him away from the both of you. Did you not see him earlier, running out of the hall when you tried to capture his attention?”
She was mostly looking at Agnes, whose face had flushed a deep, dull red. The girl could hardly look Dustin in the eyes, instead, looking to her father for support and direction in all of this. It was true that she sent Peter notes constantly, but she didn’t know that was public knowledge.
Walter tried not to appear too chagrinned.
“We only wished to greet him,” Walter said, almost defiantly. “We like Peter a great deal, my lady. Surely you can understand that. And as allies, the House of de Quincy is a staunch supporter of the Earl of Hereford and Worcester. A marriage between our children would cement a great alliance and it is only right that Peter and Agnes come to know one another.”
Dustin could see that they simply weren’t understanding her. Or, more than likely, they were, but refused to capitulate. What had started out as a polite conversation was becoming increasingly tense. Like a dog with a bone, Walter wasn’t going to give up something he clearly considered his due with Peter de Lohr.
She was going to have to be brutally honest.
“Peter has many more opportunities that can make a much more advantageous marriage than your daughter, my lord,” she said, all of the politeness out of her manner. “May I be frank? You behave as if your daughter is the only eligible woman in England and that Peter, and the de Lohrs, somehow owe you something, but that is not the case. Not in the least. Continue to push and behave boorishly, and I promise you that Agnes will not marry Peter. But if you behave as if we are doing you the honor of considering your daughter, I shall say no more about it. It is your choice. However, know this – continue on this path and dear Agnes will have to marry the next fine young man who comes along. Am I making myself clear?”
The Countess of Hereford and Worcester was nothing to be trifled with. Neither Walter nor Agnes liked being spoken to in such a manner, but there was nothing they could do about it. At least, nothing at the moment. Therefore, they had no choice but to agree.
“You are clear, my lady,” Walter said, his manner strained as he struggled to remain polite. “You will forgive our eagerness. Peter is a fine young knight and we merely want him to understand our regard for him.”
Dustin wasn’t falling for the false apology. She simply nodded her head and stood up. “There will be more opportunity for Peter and Agnes to speak, but on our good graces,” she said, smiling thinly at the pair. “Heed my words, de Quincy, and back away. Now, enjoy your evening as I rejoin my husband.”
Walter politely bid her a farewell, watching her until she was out of earshot. Then, he turned to his daughter.
“The base-born bitch,” he muttered. “She cannot speak to me in such a manner. She’ll be very sorry for that.”
Agnes took a gulp of her wine. She was quite fond of her drink, brought on by a painful lack of self-confidence and an overbearing father. “I told you not to follow him,” she hissed. “You sent your men out all over the city to follow him. Did you think he would not know that?”
Walter sneered at her. “I will do what I have to do in order to keep Peter de Lohr close to you,” he said. “You’re not a beautiful girl, Agnes. Were you prettier, I would not have to go to the great lengths I must go to in order to secure you a husband, so do not blame this on me. This is all your fault.”
Agnes looked at her father in horror, tears welling in her eyes. “That is a terrible thing to say to me!”
“It is true, God forgive me.” Walter listened to her break down into quiet tears, feeling the least bit guilty he’d been so hard on her. The daughter he never wanted, but the child he was stuck with. “Quiet, Agnes. I did not mean it, really. It’s simply that Peter does have greater prospects than you, so we must give you an advantage that the others do not have. I could lavish Peter with gifts, of course. I have been thinking about that. Mayhap a fine steed in your name? A fine cloak or dagger?”
Agnes wiped at her nose. “All men like fine horses,” she said. “They have the horse market here on Saturdays. Mayhap we should select one and have it delivered to Lonsdale?”
Walter sighed heavily, his gaze moving over to the de Lohr clan on the other side of the hall. “We shall have to,” he said. “I am not going to let Peter get away from you, Agnes. We will have to do everything within our power to see that he does not.”
Agnes simply nodded. She wanted Peter badly, but her father wanted him more. The man had never forgiven Agnes for being born female. He always viewed marriage as his opportunity to welcome a son to the family.
A de Lohr son.
Things were about to get interesting.
CHAPTER FIVE
Peter was up early.
He knew the markets in London were open before dawn, so he was up before the sun rose, heading into London along a cold, dark road that began to turn shades of blue and purple as the sun peeked over the horizon. The road was surrounded by trees, so the birds were up early, making noise and swooping down into the grass along the side of the road in search of a meal.
Not strangely, Peter had lain awake most of the night, wrought with anticipation. He’d pretended to be asleep when his family returned late from Hollyhock House and his mother even checked on him to make sure he was well. He pretended that she had awakened him, assuring her that he was quite well before pretending to go back to sleep.
But he didn’t.
He lay awake most of the night, thinking about that magnificent woman with the raven-black hair and the blue eyes, thinking more and more about the Jewish religion and what he didn’t know about it. History was rife with persecution of the Jews – he knew that from his early education from the priests in the village of Somerhill where he fostered – but beyond being told they had “killed Christ”, he just didn’t know that much about them. All he knew was that they were perceived as being different and that didn’t sit well with him. When he looked at Liora, he saw a beautiful woman and nothing more. He’d called her a Jewess as one would call him a Christian. It was simply an identifier of religion and culture.
Something he was becoming increasingly interested in.
Of course, he’d only just met the woman. It wasn’t like he was determined to marry her tomorrow. But he could only imagine how proud he would be with a magnificent wife like Liora who, according to custom and protocol, wasn’t even afforded the honorary address of “lady”. That was only reserved for the Christian nobility, not the Jews. He’d called her “Demoiselle” as a polite form of address, but that was the limit of what he could call her.
Somehow, it didn’t seem fair.
Liora had told him that she would be back home after her shopping trip this morning, but he couldn’t wait that long, hence his trip into London in the early morning hours. He knew that the Jewish market was on Poultry Street, something he’d never been to but, knowing London as he did, he was aware of the districts. It was his intention to head over to Poultry Street and see if he could spy the woman with hair as dark as night. Perhaps the mystery of her had his attention just as much as her beautiful face.
In any case, he was eager to see her.
Peter reached Poultry Street as the sun continued its ascent, bathing the land in its golden glow. Poultry Street, as he immediately saw, was packed with people at this early morning hour as shoppers and vendors converged. It was quite the madhouse and Peter paused at the edge of the lane, knowing he couldn’t take his warhorse through the crowd. It would be awkward and perhaps even dangerous for anyone who came too clos
e to the horse, who was battle-trained. Strangers were the enemy. Quickly, he went in search of a livery and found one two blocks away. Paying the man well, he left his horse tethered in a stall as he ran back over to Poultry Street to begin his hunt.
Because the avenue was so jammed with people, Peter made his way to a small alleyway behind the businesses on the west side of the street. He knew he stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb in a district full of people of different dress and religion. The alley was mostly void of people except for a few vendors throwing aside crates or baskets. The southern end of the market was full of livestock and poultry, but only cows and goats, chickens and turkeys. There were no pigs that he could see. That portion of the road was sectioned off from the rest of the street by a small pathway, and to the north of the pathway were things like vegetables and fruits, and further up towards Catte Street were things like cheese and other food items.
Peter kept a sharp eye out for that dark-haired beauty as he made his way up the rear of the stalls. He kept peering around corners or through slats in the walls, looking at all of the people making their purchases for the day. There were a lot of children running about and as he reached the midway point on the street, he thought he saw Asa with some bigger boys running through the crowds.
Sensing that Liora must be close by, he continued making his way up the street by way of the back alley. When he reached a spice vendor, with the very air filled with the heady smell of a thousand different spices, he thought he caught sight of black-haired lady. He snuck around the spice vendor’s shack only to see that, indeed, it was Liora.
His heart leapt at the sight of her.
The sun was rising in the sky and the area was better illuminated now. Liora was with an older woman whose head was wrapped in a tight wimple and another much older woman who was clad in a variety of veils, all of them black. There was a servant following them around, carrying two big baskets that were already half-filled with items. They were heading south, towards the area with the cows and chickens, and Peter followed.
The Splendid Hour: The Executioner Knights Book 7 Page 7