Thrill Of The Knight

by Julia Latham

  “Why don’t you ask him what ideas he has for your rescue?”

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. She had to remember what was important here, and not concentrate on how everything affected her. “You’re right. I shall listen to his thoughts, but I don’t think I can yet trust him to carry them out. I don’t know what he’s been doing in Europe, why he has so little money of his own—”

  “Youngest son?” Anne helpfully supplied.

  “Besides that. I guess…I’ll just have to keep spending time with him. When we are better acquainted, perhaps I’ll reveal myself.”

  “Perhaps?”

  When Elizabeth glared at her, Anne smiled. “I’m sorry. I do not mean to tease you. This is a serious dilemma and I don’t envy you your decisions.”

  “Are you still all right up here?” Elizabeth asked with concern.

  “I am, although I hope we’re rescued in weeks rather than months.” Anne stood up. “Break me off a piece of bread, and I’ll tell you all about the book I’m reading. Oh, and I’ll need more mending. In fact, I have some thoughts on your latest embroidery design.”

  “Can we not just eat?”

  John ate his morning meal very slowly, waiting for Anne. Lady Elizabeth’s reaction to the truth of his identity might well mean success or failure. He could be judged on William’s flaws—or on his own, and those were numerous as well.

  Anne finally appeared from the kitchens, and John stood up awkwardly, cursing his splint. Several people around him snickered when they looked between him and the maidservant. Surely it was because they were finally realizing that their newest bailiff was courting their mistress’s maid.

  When Anne was near him, he gave her a smile of welcome, as if nothing was wrong in Sir John’s world. Anne frowned her suspicion, then seemed to remember their roles and gave him a small, nervous smile.

  “I tried to wait to break my fast with you, Anne,” he said, “but I was hungry.”

  She eyed his chest. “You must need a lot of sustenance.”

  He grinned. “Sometimes it never seems enough. Would you like to eat with me?”

  When she tried to sit opposite him, he took her hand and pulled her to his side. He felt the stiffness of her fingers, sensed her struggle. He hated hurting her, but they both had to keep up the masquerade.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered, leaning close to her. The wimple brushed his face, and he found himself wishing it were her hair. How was he ever going to learn to control his desire for her, when he had to pretend to court her? “We must keep up the pretense.”

  He saw her slight nod, and she took a piece of bread from his plate and began to pick it apart again, just as she’d done yesterday when she was nervous.

  “I ate with Lady Elizabeth,” she said awkwardly.

  “I guessed you might. You must have had much to talk about.”

  She only nodded. He wished he could ask her the results outright, but there were still too many people in the hall, mostly servants cleaning up after the meal. And to his surprise, they didn’t seem to want to leave. Were these people, who seemed to ignore Anne most of the time, now playing chaperone?

  “We have to return to Hillesley today,” he said. “Master Milburn told me it was time to collect the rents.”

  “He could not possibly trust you, when he’s known you so short a time,” she said impassively.

  Was she also speaking for her mistress?

  “That’s why he’s sending soldiers with us today,” John continued. “He told me it was to provide protection against theft.”

  “You do need money,” she said dryly.

  She’d landed a particularly accurate blow, he thought. His lack of fortune must not have impressed Lady Elizabeth. “Come walk with me outside.”

  To his surprise, she leaned toward him, and even touched his arm. His body responded far too quickly.

  In a low, intimate whisper, she said, “Still courting me?”

  “I must.”

  “I won’t make it easy.”

  “I know.”

  And she didn’t. Outside, she offered to help him down the stairs from the great hall to the ground, but he declined. She waited patiently at the bottom for him, looking up with a deferential interest that made him even more suspicious. They walked side by side across the inner ward, past the soldiers’ barracks and the stables, and he knew that they were the objects of curiosity. How would these people feel when they discovered that he was their future lord, not a bailiff courting a maidservant?

  But as if Anne knew what he was thinking, she took his free hand, as a friend would, but still too intimately. They stopped at the tiltyard to watch Bannaster’s knights and soldiers train. One young soldier was bearing the brunt of two men attacking him.

  “Is that necessary?” Anne asked in dismay.

  “It is a normal training procedure.”

  “Their swords aren’t blunted.”

  “I noticed,” he said tightly.

  “That poor young soldier is one of Alderley’s own.”

  That explained the vehemence of what should be a training exercise.

  “There are only four of our men left,” she continued. “Are they to bear the brunt of this training?”

  John saw Philip leave a sturdy building next to the barracks. John knew he’d been working in the armory. Today he wore a battered chest and back plate, though he still carried an account book. When he saw them, he strode over.

  “Sir John,” Philip said, nodding. “Good day, Anne.”

  Philip could not have missed the way Anne stiffened and regarded him warily. Apparently Philip was the enemy now, too.

  But Philip only continued to smile at her.

  Anne pointed to the training exercise. “Philip, there are two of Bannaster’s men against one of Alderley’s.”

  John was relieved that she’d let go of his hand.

  Philip looked over his shoulder, and they all saw Alderley’s soldier drop to his knees, though his shield was still raised, and his sword absorbed the blows.

  “Hmm,” Philip said, frowning. He glanced at John. “Shall I see to that?”

  “If you can,” John said, thinking that Philip would use his judgment about whether too much interference would harm their masquerade.

  But Philip must have taken it as a challenge, because he pulled his sword from the scabbard. “Never fear, Mistress Anne. I will right this wrong for you.”

  John saw Anne bite her lip, almost as if she wanted to smile. With a laugh, Philip threw himself between the combatants, and gave Alderley’s soldier a chance to recover.

  Elizabeth watched John’s man fight, and wondered if John was that much better. It was easier to concentrate on Philip—or whomever he was—than think of John. Philip was amusing and obviously compassionate. And he wasn’t the one who’d come up with the pretense of courting her to get to the tower.

  Several soldiers had gathered to watch this new battle, and suddenly she remembered her attacker, though she didn’t see him. Would he want revenge now? Had John made everything worse by defeating him so easily while posing as an injured man?

  “Do you think the bearded soldier is here?” she asked. The hesitation in her voice bothered her.

  “The man who attacked you last night? I had a discussion with him this morn.”

  “And?”

  “I convinced him that you did not want his attentions, that I had your interest. And that I had Master Milburn’s ear.”

  “Ah, I see.” He had remembered to protect her, without her reminding him. She could not bring herself to thank him. She gave him a sideways glance. “So you have my interest.”

  “It must appear so.”

  “A man who shares my interest would wish to be alone with me. So come.”

  She took his hand again, felt the way he stiffened, though he remained silent. Her anger was ruling her, and she didn’t seem to be able to stop it, though a rational part of her urged caution. She led John to the lady’s garden. There was
a half-wall cutting it off from the rest of the ward, and inside it was a welcome respite of plants and flowers. A gravel path wound through it, and she followed it deeper in, until the trees and shrubs hid them from passersby.

  When they reached a secluded stone bench, she said, “Please sit down and rest your leg, Sir John.”

  “You know I don’t need—”

  But she gave him a hard push, and short of grabbing her for balance, he was forced to sit down.

  “So we’re courting,” she began, considering him. “Shouldn’t I be sitting in your lap?”

  With her knees pressed together, she sat down on his legs, her hip against his stomach, her shoulder against his chest. He leaned away from her, his hands bracing himself on the back of the bench, his eyes narrowed.

  “Why are you doing this?” he demanded. His breath was coming harder than a moment before, and his narrowed eyes burned into her.

  “Isn’t this what you’ve been doing to me, deliberately courting me?”

  “I was not so”—his gaze dropped down her body—“so intimate with you.”

  In outrage, she leaned in closer and tried to ignore the heat emanating from him. Having nowhere to brace herself but his chest, she laid a fist there. “And what do you call that kiss?”

  “A mistake I’ve already apologized for.” He looked at her lips. “I don’t think you’re going to want to have to apologize to me.”

  For a heartbeat she stared into his eyes, and finally realized that her treacherous body was enjoying having his beneath her. She swept to her feet. “Never.”

  He stood up. “You have every reason to be angry with me, Anne.”

  Just hearing her maid’s name made her vaguely uneasy. How ridiculous! He had not yet proved that he deserved to be trusted with the truth of her identity.

  Chapter 12

  John felt frustrated and guilty and angry when they were finally sitting in the cart, driving toward Hillesley. In front of them rode two mounted soldiers, who conversed with each other and ignored the cart and its occupants behind them. The sky was overcast, and a light mist had begun to fall, but it didn’t even begin to touch the fever that heated John’s blood.

  How could he continue to be so drawn to Anne? She was angry and hurt, and had every right to punish him. For all he knew, Lady Elizabeth had told Anne to torment him, as if he had to prove himself.

  He’d passed the first test, at least as far as Anne was concerned. He hadn’t touched her, hadn’t kissed her.

  But inside, where it most counted, he’d failed. His fingers had itched to caress her; his cock had been so hard, he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to keep the proof of it from her. Leaning away as she’d sat atop him had helped.

  He’d had the faint hope that things would be easier once Anne knew the truth, but it wasn’t so. He still wanted her. If only he could see Lady Elizabeth again. Her beauty as a child had been enough to make him follow her like a puppy, until she’d laughingly chased him away. But that image was fading now under the onslaught of Anne’s creamy skin and haunting dark eyes. And her lips—

  John flicked the reins in disgust and said in a low voice, “The soldiers can’t hear us. We’re alone. What did Lady Elizabeth say when you told her about me?”

  Anne wore a cloak against the rain, and the hood hid almost all of her face from him but the tip of her nose and chin. He almost demanded that she take it off, so that he could read her face. But he would have to judge by her voice.

  “Anne?” he repeated.

  “I heard you. Lady Elizabeth was quite distraught over your method to win access to her.”

  John was tired of apologizing, so he remained silent.

  “She refused to believe your insistence that the disaster that has befallen Rame Castle was the late Lord Russell’s fault.”

  “It wasn’t a suggestion, it was the truth.”

  “You may think so, but surely there is another reason.”

  John didn’t press the point; Lady Elizabeth had obviously been enamored of William. He had never considered that he might not be able to win his bride’s affection from the ghost of his dead brother. And that angered him.

  “She doesn’t know whether she can trust you,” Anne said softly. “She is very confused.”

  “But surely she wants to be rescued. Doesn’t that matter more than what she thinks of me?”

  “Aren’t they intertwined?” Anne asked, finally turning to look at him.

  He saw sadness and resignation in her eyes.

  “It is not just a matter of Lady Elizabeth herself,” she continued. “She worries about the fate of Alderley, but mostly she worries about her people.”

  “I think her people would be relieved to know that she’s safe.”

  “They won’t feel that way if Lord Bannaster takes out his wrath on them. He strikes me as a man who feels his connection to the king gives him powers above common men. My lady is worried that he is capable of…anything.”

  “Very well,” John said, looking forward again as they crested a hill and Hillesley came into view. “Then I need to convince her of my sincerity. If I write to her, will you take the missive? Only if it is not dangerous to yourself, of course.”

  “Aye, she would wish to hear your words.”

  He inhaled. “Was she angry when you told her about the kiss?”

  “I didn’t tell her yet.”

  He gave her a reproachful look. “You must. I don’t want you to keep secrets from your mistress on my behalf.”

  “You want her to know that you desired her maid?”

  He glanced over to find her watching him intently. It would have been better if he could have said he’d only pretended to desire her. Anne would think badly of him, but then it would be over.

  “She should know the truth,” he finally said. “And she needs to know that it is a product of the situation.”

  She winced, and then nodded. “Very well. She would like to know if you have a plan to help her.”

  “For the moment, I am biding my time. I have a plan, but I am not ready to share it.”

  “And why not?” she asked, obviously affronted.

  “Because it is not in place.”

  “But—”

  “An alternate plan would involve removing the two guards from the tower, which would be easy enough. Getting Lady Elizabeth out of the castle will be the problem.”

  “And she won’t go.”

  “What?” he demanded, staring at her.

  “As I already said, she fears for her people. She will not leave them. She did try to send a missive to the king, but as you know, Milburn intercepted it. Why don’t you go to the king?”

  There was true excitement in her voice for the first time, and John knew he would drive it away. The dampness soaked down into his shirt, the uneven road jarred his bruised leg—and Anne’s idea was about to be crushed. But how could he tell Lady Elizabeth about his plan to win the army’s support, if she was so worried about her people that she wouldn’t want force used? That was what an army was for!

  “I considered going to the king before I even arrived at Alderley. But I am a poor baron, without an army behind me.” For the moment.

  “You have the ring, or so you say.”

  “I have it. But who is to say he’ll believe me, especially if he’s heard the rumors?”

  He had Anne’s full attention. “What rumors?”

  “I was going to tell Lady Elizabeth when I met her, but I see it is too important to wait. While I was in Europe, rumors were spread among my people that I was the one demanding money from the estate, and the reason the land and castle were neglected. It was used as a more convenient excuse for why the money was taken. I imagine he thought I would never return, so that it wouldn’t matter,” he mused.

  “He?”

  John glanced at her. “My brother.”

  She gasped in affront, as he knew she would. Lady Elizabeth had delusions about the kind of man William was, and she’d passed them on to
Anne.

  “How can you make an accusation against such a kind man, God rest his soul?”

  The “kind man” had tried to beat and humiliate John in the attempt to make him into a man.

  “The steward told me it was done under William’s orders,” he said, “and who else would have ordered it? William took the money for his personal use, and he didn’t want to look guilty of it.”

  She opened her mouth as if to argue with him, but then she said, “I will tell my mistress what you have said.”

  “And you will take my missive, as long as there is no danger to you?”

  “You worry about me?” she said hesitantly.

  “Aye.” He kept his eyes focused on the road. “You do not deserve to be caught between Lady Elizabeth and me.”

  “Very well, I will take it for you.”

  In Hillesley, a trestle table underneath a pavilion had been set up on the village green for the rent collection, so as not to disturb the recovering bailiff at the manor. Elizabeth sat at John’s side, an account book spread out before her, ink and a quill nearby. John had pointed out the column with last month’s totals, and told her to write in the next column.

  Hugh, the reeve, made casual conversation about the last manor that John had worked at, and she listened in awe and anger as John wove what she knew was a totally fictional account.

  She kept reminding herself that he was doing it for her benefit, to rescue her.

  And to win her dowry and the title of earl.

  Oh, she hated how her mind was going back and forth. And to think he blamed his poor dead brother for another lie! Didn’t he understand that someone, probably the steward, stole the money, and wanted to set the brothers against each other?

  In John’s defense, she was relieved that he’d insisted that she tell her mistress about the kiss. A lesser man would have been glad to keep it hidden.

  A sinful part of her almost wished he wanted to keep their intimacy to himself, as a precious thing.

  She was so confused, and losing herself playing two very different roles.

  Throughout the afternoon, roughly thirty villagers came to pay their respects to the temporary bailiff—and pay their rent. Last year’s harvest had been good, and this year’s was promising. Several people disputed what they owed, and Elizabeth listened with grudging respect as John asked careful questions, consulted the accounts paid in previous years, and made decisions. On at least one, he was going to have to explain to Milburn why he’d allow the rent to be delayed, but John seemed not to be worried. He was a confident man, one used to being in charge.