by Julia Latham
At the open gate, near a gatehouse lit from within by lantern light, Sir Robert came up short. “Mistress Anne, you must not look.”
“The guard is dead?” she whispered.
Lord Alderley grimaced. “We are too late.”
“Philip wouldn’t have killed him if he didn’t have to,” Anne said.
“We don’t even know if Philip did it,” Lord Alderley reminded her. “Perhaps the king made plans for the traitors that he did not confide in you.”
Then Philip had endangered himself for nothing, she worried. “But we don’t know that. What if he had to fight his way in? Please, let us keep going.”
“I would insist you remain behind, but you are safer with us than on the streets.” Sir Robert handed her a dagger. “Have you been taught how to use this?”
“Not formally, but I can get by.” And armed, she felt safer.
Sporadic clouds crossed the moon, occasionally letting light shine on the cobbled walkway. The house itself rose three floors, but not a light shone in the windows. It was long after midnight.
They passed another corpse on the approach to the front of the house, and it took her a moment to realize that the yawning blackness was an open door. Sir Robert and Lord Alderley peered within.
“Stay within the entrance hall, Anne,” Lord Alderley said. “If you hear fighting, run outside.”
She nodded, though she made no promises aloud. She followed them inside, and two high windows in the front wall allowed moonlight to illuminate a two-story hall, lined with ancient statues. She stood against the wall, just within the front door. After looking behind the statues, Sir Robert and Lord Alderley crept down the length of the room, looked into the next, and disappeared into the darkness.
Her nerves were taut, her stomach a hard ball within her. She kept flinching, as if she expected sudden shouts and the ringing of steel on steel, but the house was so silent.
Was Philip—
She could not even think the words. She stared at the statues, as if they populated the hall and watched her with menace.
And then the nearest statue seemed to move.
Before she could even shriek, the man was upon her, hand over her mouth, holding her tightly to him. She hadn’t heard a sound, as if he’d just appeared.
“The false Lady Rosamond,” he murmured in her ear.
Though she could not see him, his voice was familiar. Was he one of the traitors, come to kill his cohort Bramfield? Or was he the Bladesman who’d assisted Bramfield?
She couldn’t speak to him, with his hot hand covering her mouth. His arm pinned hers to her waist. But she still had the dagger clutched in one hand, hidden in the folds of her skirt.
“Your friends are too late,” he said almost conversationally. “They’re all dead.”
Her eyes blurred with tears. He couldn’t mean Philip? The ache in her chest expanded until it threatened to stop her breathing.
She moved her mouth against his hand.
“We can’t have a discussion like this,” he said. “I can’t trust you not to scream and alert someone to my presence. But you can come with me, and we’ll have a lovely chat later.”
He pulled her toward the open doorway, and she started to struggle in earnest. She tried to bite him, and he gripped her jaw harder. Then she let her knees buckle, hoping to pull him to the floor with her. To her surprise, he had to let her go. She rolled onto her back, digging into the floor with her heels to scramble away from him, but her slippers only slid. The shadow man lifted his arm up high, and she saw a dagger glinting in the moonlight.
She lashed out with her own blade, slicing him across both shins. He howled aloud, and she prayed that someone had heard him. The moonlight suddenly caught his profile, and in shock, she recognized Lord Milforth, the older baron who had told her she didn’t kiss well.
“You bitch!” He raised his dagger again.
Just as she began to roll out from under him, she heard the clash of steel over her head. Scrambling up onto her hands and knees, she saw someone standing in the doorway, gripping his sword. Milforth wrung his empty hand, as if the dagger had been knocked from it.
“Anne!”
When Anne realized that Philip was the one to disarm her captor, the relief she felt flooded through her body, leaving her exhausted and near tears. Climbing to her feet, she stumbled back against the wall, out of their way. Milforth lunged for her, but Philip caught him from behind. More men swarmed into the hall, surrounding him, binding him.
It was several minutes before Philip was able to step away from the group. Anne gave him a trembling smile and let him engulf her in his warm embrace.
“Are you well?” he asked.
When she nodded, he pulled back, holding her upper arms.
“How did you get here?”
“With us,” said Lord Alderley from behind her.
Candles were slowly being lit through the chamber, and Anne saw Philip’s recognition.
“John?” he said in surprise.
“And me as well,” said Sir Robert, coming to stand beside Lord Alderley. “Mistress Anne feared for your life, and we were the only Bladesmen to be found.”
When Philip frowned at her, she said, “You went alone, Philip! What was I to think?”
“That I might find my own Bladesmen?”
An, and we were the only Bladesmen to be found.”
When Philip frowned at her, she said, “You went alone, Philip! What was I to think?”
“That I might find my own Bladesmen?”
Anne looked past him to see Walter, Joseph, and David surrounding Milforth. “Oh, well that was good thinking.”
He shook his head. “Here I was hoping to save the day, and I find you battling a traitor.”
“Not a traitor,” said Sir Robert, frowning at Milforth. “We found the three noblemen dead within, as if from a robbery. Milforth is a Bladesman.”
Both Anne and Philip stared at Milforth, who glared at them all.
“You have no proof of any of this,” Milforth said haughtily. “I came here to visit Bramfield and found them dead. I thought your serving girl one of the thieves.”
Walter looked at him coldly. “We of the League do not need a layman’s proof. We take care of our own, do we not, Lord Milforth? I fear you have made linking you to this crime too easy.”
As she watched two of her Bladesmen lead Milforth outside, Anne asked, “But was it really a crime? The three he killed have reaped what they sowed.”
“He was their compatriot until he could no longer take the risk that they’d identify him,” Philip said, “making him a traitor, too.”
With his words, a heavy silence fell.
Walter approached Anne, and to her surprise, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “My lady,” he said, “we erred in our urgency to reach London.”
Embarrassed, she said, “Walter, you must not—”
He looked up at her, and there was genuine sorrow in his eyes. “You were fair to us. You are one of the reasons this mission succeeded, and we neglected you.”
Anne felt flushed with the praise. “That is kind of you, Walter. I was glad to be of help.”
He lifted a candlestand. “I’m going to search the house. We have yet to find Stephen, Bramfield’s servant.”
“Or Margaret,” Anne reminded him. “I pray that she is unharmed.”
Lord Alderley glanced between Anne and Philip. “Would you like Sir Robert and me to inform the king of this night’s evil deeds? His men will want to examine the bodies.”
Anne said, “We can return with you.”
“Nay, we cannot,” Philip said. “It is over, as far as we are concerned. Anne, after we’ve looked for Margaret, I need to talk to you.”
Though they all searched the house, they did not find Stephen. Frightened servants finally crept into the open, and Margaret was found locked in a bedchamber. Anne held her while she cried, and then released her when Sir Robert offered to escort Margaret back to
Lady Rosamond.
Anne felt Philip’s hand on her upper arm. “Are we finished here?” he asked.
She looked up at him in surprise, but he was staring down at her with tenderness and urgency, and she found she could not deny him.
Outside, he mounted his horse and pulled her up to ride in his lap. At last she felt safe, not caring what happened next, as long as she was with Philip.
To her surprise, the guard at the city gate let them in without even a question, and as Philip flipped him several coins, he said, “He’s becoming wealthy off me tonight.”
At first Anne thought he would take her to the League’s house, but instead he rode down to the Thames, to the inn where they’d slept in each other’s arms. The innkeeper grumbled about being awakened, but at last they were alone in a small chamber. Philip started a fire, and Anne stood before it, wondering if she would ever feel warm again.
He took both of her hands, facing her before the fire, and it danced across his face and glittered in his eyes.
“I never asked where you wanted to go this night,” Philip said, “because I was worried you would accept someone’s offer of escort before you had heard me out.”
She smiled, though inside she felt breathless with uncertainty and excitement. “Accept an offer of escort? Do you think I would leave you so easily?”
He sighed and closed his eyes, then brought both of her hands to his lips. “I was jealous of Walter for touching you like this.”
When he turned her hands over and kissed her palms, she shivered in wonder. It seemed such an intimate thing, and she could feel the brush of the whiskers he had not had time to shave.
At last he looked up at her, then pressed her hands over his heart. “Anne, I have never said these words to another, and they have ached to burst forth from my chest. I love you, my sweet.”
The tears she told herself she wouldn’t cry promptly began to flow down her face, but she was also smiling with quiet joy. “Oh, Philip, I have been in love with you for so long, that I never even realized how this emotion, how these feelings for you, had become such a part of me.”
“I always thought I’d know my future when I finally saw it,” he said, reaching to wipe her tears, and then cupping her cheek with one hand. “It was you, always you, but I was too blind to see it. I kept thinking that I had to stand alone, to make my own way in the world, to advance myself the way others had wanted me to. But all along I was living in the shadow of these people, basing myself on them, and it was you who showed me true courage.”
“Philip, how can you think so little of yourself?” she cried softly. “You transformed yourself from peasant to squire to knight, and you should be as proud as I am. It was you who made me realize that I was letting the inferiority of my position affect me. I was trying to be someone else, living within a masquerade, and then hoping that the League would allow me to disappear within other characters forever. It was almost like running away from myself. But I have to make my own place to belong, and I so desperately want that to be with you.” She cupped his hand to her cheek. “Please, Philip, forgive me for using you as Lady Beatrice did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even if you didn’t love me, I wanted so much to share my bed with you, to have those memories to cherish. It never dawned on me that Lady Beatrice did the same. I saw how much that hurt you.”
“But you could never hurt me, Anne,” he whispered. “With your every touch you showed me what I meant to you. I never had that with any other woman. Soon enough, I realized that I could not live without you, as even I need the air to breathe. So let there be no more recriminations between us. Will you be my bride, Anne? Will you share my home and my heart?”
She stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips. “Aye, Philip. I vow with my very soul to be worthy of such a gift.”
He laughed and hugged her, then stepped back and tried to look serious. “And I have one more request.”
“Anything,” she breathed.
“Let our next adventure be the excitement of marriage and the thrill of making babies.”
She threw her arms around him and let him lift her from the floor. “Gladly, my love.”
Epilogue
W inter was upon them, and Anne stood looking out the window of the manor home Philip had purchased for them, not far from Castle Alderley. Snow softly fell on the hills of Gloucestershire, blanketing the world, but she did not heed its threat. She was snug and warm in her own home, close to her friend Elizabeth, but no longer her servant.
She put a hand to her swelling stomach, knowing with deep satisfaction that she had her own life, her own growing family.
The front door opened and she turned to see Philip and several men enter the hall. She came to them, calling for a servant’s aid, as they shook the snow from their cloaks and boots.
When their hoods dropped back, she recognized Walter and David, whom she had not seen since the past summer’s adventure in London.
They bowed to her, and she kissed their cold cheeks. “And where is Joseph?” she teased them. “Do you not all travel together?”
“He is with his wife in her time of need,” Walter said.
Philip put his arms around her, his hands on her belly. “It seems to be contagious.”
They all laughed, and Anne invited them into her home.
As the men were being served food and warm drinks, Philip drew Anne aside to speak privately. “They’ve asked me to join the League,” he said, his smile fading.
She took up his smile for him. “Philip, you had always dreamed of helping people.”
“I am helping people—our own people. And my dreams of you replaced those simple childhood wishes. I told them I would think about it, but I am in no rush to decide.”
He pulled her close, and she snuggled into him, letting him feel her belly and the child within, as he loved to do. She could not be unhappy with his decision.
“I do things on my own terms at last,” he murmured against her temple.
“This child might have its own terms,” she said, laughing softly.
“Then we’ll meet them together.”
Every time she thought of giving Philip the chance at fatherhood that he never had before, she felt tears sting her eyes. She was an emotional fountain with the babe growing inside her, but Philip didn’t mind. Feeling more at peace than she’d thought possible, she looked back out at the snow-covered world and was glad to be home at last.
Author’s Note
T he late fifteenth century is rife with political turmoil, with many different kings coming to power. I did extensive research for this book, which is always my favorite thing about being a writer. I hope you’ll forgive me for a few liberties I had to take. I could not find the name of the king’s Lord Steward, so I created Sir Edward Colet.
Also, nowhere did I find evidence of an underground tunnel into Westminster Palace, but I needed one to cloak my characters’ journey in secrecy. I knew in Rome there had been such a tunnel since the second century, so why not London?
Thank you again for understanding, and I hope you enjoyed the adventures of Anne and Philip. Look for Lord Bannaster’s story, where he meets the first Bladeswoman, coming to your bookstore soon!
Julia
About the Author
JULIA LATHAM has an abiding love for the Middle Ages, when knights were knights and ladies had to tame them. After several varied jobs, the last in computer programming, she realized her life’s dream of being published with Avon Books. She lives in Central New York with her three children, her dog, Apollo, and her husband, Jim. Visit her website at www.JuliaLatham.com.
Julia also writes USA Today bestselling novels under the name Gayle Callen.
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ONE KNIGHT ONLY. Copyright © 2007 by Gayle Kloecker Callen. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Microsoft Reader October 2007 ISBN 978-0-06-155487-2
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