“Aye. Business is good, especially on market days.”
“My name is Matthew,” the younger knight said, drawing her gaze away from the other man. “This is Hugh. Please join us.” He gestured toward the bench at their table.
Hugh sent an odd look at his companion before smiling at her. “Please do. I’m certain you could use a rest, however brief.”
Much to her surprise, she found herself sitting. Was it the look of admiration in Hugh’s eyes or simply the ache in her back?
“Thank you.” Quick as a blink, Elsie brought her a cup of ale and placed bread and cheese at the table as though encouraging Liza to stay.
Liza couldn’t help but glare at the maid as now it would be rude if she rose before partaking. She’d meant to sit for only a moment or two.
“What brings you to Ermine?” she asked as she tore off a chunk of bread and pushed the rest toward the men.
“We’ve heard nothing but praise for Lord Stanwick’s horses. We came to see for ourselves if they’re as fine as others say.” Hugh eased back in his chair and sipped his ale, obviously comfortable in his own skin.
But those blue eyes held hers in a way that made her wonder if he wanted more from her than she was willing to give. She brushed off the fanciful thought and focused on his question.
“They are indeed. Though he’s choosy as to whom he sells them.” She found herself eating so she had something to do while they both stared at her.
“Have you lived here all your life?” Hugh asked.
“Most of it.” That was as much as she was willing to say. Sharing personal information with strangers was never wise. “Where do you call home?”
The younger knight glanced at Hugh as though uncertain how to answer. That was odd.
“A small village two days ride to the south called Aldwick.”
“I’m not familiar with it.” That was because it was a lie. She was sure of it. In her many years of running this alehouse, she’d become adept at reading people. It wasn’t the lie that bothered her so much but the reason he felt the need to tell it. Either he was hiding something or up to no good.
Disappointment filled her at the thought before she caught herself. All the better that she’d given up trusting men long ago.
“I’ll leave you to your drink,” she said as she rose from the table. “I hope your time in Ermine is successful.” With a nod, she took her leave and returned to her work.
As the night drew long, she allowed herself to glance at the table in the rear, her gaze catching the knight’s. A shiver of awareness ran down her spine as his gaze held steady on hers. Here was a man who tempted her to spend a night exploring desires she’d only heard about from Elsie and the other serving maids. Somehow, she was certain he knew his way around women and could bring her the pleasure of which the maids often spoke.
The only man she’d lain with had been as rough in bed as he’d been in life. The idea of learning what a man and a woman could do together was more tempting in this moment than she would’ve guessed. But she couldn’t risk indulging in it.
Deliberately, she turned her back on him, hoping she made her disinterest clear, no matter that her chest tightened with regret as she did so.
Chapter Two
Hugh and Matthew spent the night at the monastery with many other travelers. Luckily, Hugh had learned long ago to sleep wherever he laid his head, whether he was out under the stars with nothing but the cold, hard ground beneath him or on the softness of a straw mattress near a warm fire. The simple accommodations in the monastery hall suited him just fine.
It was the image of the alewife that made sleep elude him for a time. The heat in her gaze had him thinking things better left alone. Yet the way she’d deliberately turned her back on him presented a challenge. Obviously the woman had more layers than an onion. No matter. He was here for only one reason, and his focus needed to remain sharp. He had no time for the distraction a woman offered.
The monks encouraged the travelers to rise early and depart. Their sleeping pallets were stacked along the wall while trestle tables were set in their place. Bread, hardened cheese, and ale were served to break their fast. One sip of the ale made Hugh smile.
“What is it?” Matthew asked.
“The alewife supplies the monastery with drink.”
Matthew took a sip, then another. “How can you tell?”
“When you’ve drank as much bad ale as I, you learn to appreciate the subtleties of a good one.” Hugh stretched his legs before him, prepared to linger in the monastery until they had a chance to speak with someone who might shed some light on the activities of Lord Stanwick.
As many of their fellow travelers departed, a monk approached them, his hands tucked in the sleeves of his dark wool robe, a tranquil expression on his round face. “Good morn to you both.”
“And to you,” Matthew responded. He glanced at Hugh who gave him a nod of encouragement. “Are there always so many travelers passing through Ermine?”
“We often hold market days and that draws many people. The city’s location along the river makes it an ideal place from where to ship goods.”
The monk spoke with them for a brief time, but they learned little. It seemed Lord Stanwick was currently in residence and often had visitors. Many important lords stayed at his keep and brought large entourages with them.
“I believe Lord Tegmont came here. Did you know him?” Hugh asked.
“I’ve heard of him but never had the pleasure of meeting him,” the monk answered.
Hugh didn’t want to mention the other barons they watched as it would only rouse suspicion. It was difficult to ask questions that would give them the answers they needed without giving away their purpose here.
“What brings you to Ermine?” the monk asked.
Matthew raised a brow at Hugh who subtly shook his head. Despite his apparent friendliness, the monk had told them very little and Hugh was not ready to put their trust in him.
“We are hoping to buy some horses from Lord Stanwick,” Hugh said, pleased he and Royce had determined a reason for them be here and meet the lord.
“Many others travel here for the same purpose. I believe that is why Lord Tegmont visited.”
Hugh nodded but didn’t believe it for a moment. Mayhap that was the lie they told to cover their true activities. Ironic that he and Matthew were using it as well.
The monk continued, “You might seek out Wymark who serves as steward for Lord Stanwick. He can tell you if any horses are available for sale. He may be difficult to find though as he’s very busy on market days.”
“Thank you for the information and your hospitality.”
They took their leave and retrieved their horses from the stables.
“Why did you not confide in the monk?” Matthew asked. “Surely a man of God is trustworthy.”
“No one can be trusted.” Hugh had learned this the hard way. “Absolutely no one. In this town, that includes children, old people, and monks.”
“Even an alewoman?”
Hugh gave him a bland look, purposely ignoring the intimation. “Aye. Any woman.”
Liza loved this time of day. In the coolness of the autumn morn, she worked in the small brew room which was attached to the alehouse. The kitchen where the food was prepared was in a separate building which allowed her to ignore the chattering servants who baked and chopped and cleaned.
Ale only kept for a few days before turning, so anticipating how much would be needed was a gamble. Brewing too much took away her profit and brewing too little meant lost sales. She didn’t care for either.
While the water came to a boil over the fire, Liza crushed the malt she’d roasted to an amber color the previous day, mixed it thoroughly with pale malt and added rolled oats. She set a copper cauldron on the floor then slowly poured some of the boiling water into it, causing steam to fill the air. Then she added the malt and oat mixture followed by more water.
Through trial and error, she’d l
earned not to stir the mixture. Instead, she covered the cauldron and let it sit, allowing nature to take its course. In her opinion, the copper container added another layer of flavor.
After a short time, she removed the lid and added more water, as always, amazed at how little moisture remained. She replaced the lid and kept busy, resisting the urge to peek. Already the moist fragrance of the fermenting ale scented the air, mingling with the smells of oats, barley and fruit in the brew room.
At last she took off the lid again and stirred the mixture that resembled thick pottage with a large wooden paddle. She replaced the lid and prepared to leave for the market place. When she returned, she’d add more water, stir, then allow it to sit again before finally adding some flavoring. With this batch, she’d use elderberry and honey.
Brewing good ale took patience. That had been the most difficult part for Liza to learn. She’d never been willing to wait for what she’d wanted. Hence she’d found herself married to a man before she’d truly known him. Before she’d realized his true nature. That had been a terrible mistake. Now she acted more cautiously, determined not to make another life-altering error. If only she could teach her sister that lesson instead of her learning the hard way.
“Brewing another batch, Liza?”
She startled at the sound of the voice to find Wymark, Lord Stanwick’s steward, at her door. She bit her lip, reminding herself to be nice. “Wymark. What brings you by so early?”
The steward was a hand taller than she with a wiry build and wavy brown hair. His cheek bones seemed overly large for his face. Pale blue eyes pierced through her, but it was his smile that made her uncomfortable. That smug, all-knowing smile that said he had something she didn’t.
And he did.
Her sister.
“I’ve come to order a batch of your best ale. Lord Stanwick is expecting visitors in a few days time and wishes to impress them.”
“Certainly. How much will you need?” While an alewife at the keep brewed ale for daily consumption, the lord often ordered ale from her for his table and special occasions. As they discussed the details, she did her best to hide her dislike.
He drew closer. Too close. “I understand two knights drank at your table last eve.”
Immediately, the image of the big blond knight filled her mind. In all honesty, it wasn’t the first time she’d thought of him and his twinkling blue eyes. The hint of mirth in his gaze made her want to smile in return, but the heat there had her wondering things she shouldn’t.
She shrugged. “There were many in the alehouse. I don’t remember any in particular.” It rankled her to act too accommodating to whatever Wymark wanted.
“Lord Stanwick likes to keep track of those passing through, especially knights. They spent the night at the monastery. If they are staying longer, we need to know why.”
Irritation filled Liza. She had no desire to serve as a spy for the steward and resented it when he asked her to do so which seemed to be more frequently. She wasn’t stupid. She knew Lord Stanwick sometimes used her alehouse to pass messages to others. On occasion, meetings had been held here. She preferred not to know what they discussed. The less she knew, the better.
“I know you spoke with them. No purpose would be served in denying it.”
“You’re spying on me?” The gall of the man never failed to amaze her.
“Keep an eye on those men if they return,” Wymark continued. Some of her resentment must’ve shown on her face. “The ale tasters will be by later this day. We wouldn’t want them to find that you’ve watered down your ale. You’d be fined and unable to sell it.”
The threat lingered in the air, angering her further. “My ale is of the finest quality. They will not be able to find fault with it.”
“I’m certain they won’t. Especially not if you aid us.” He watched her for a long moment and apparently didn’t like what he saw. “We wouldn’t want any harm to befall your sister, now would we?”
“Mayhap if I saw my sister, I’d be better able to aid you.” A fortnight had passed since Wymark had let Melissande pay her a visit. The few times Liza had been to the keep, her sister had been nowhere in sight.
“In due time, my dear. See what you can discover for us, and I’ll put in a good word for you with Lord Stanwick regarding your sister.”
Liza didn’t bother answering. Wymark was one more reason why she didn’t trust men. He had yet to keep his word, but she had no choice except to cooperate. Anything to keep her sister safe.
Chapter Three
Hugh and Matthew returned to the alehouse that evening for sustenance after a long, frustrating day. They’d spent most of the morn visiting the blacksmith under the guise of having him check one of their horse’s shoes. Unfortunately, he’d seemed reluctant to talk about any activities at the keep. They’d been able to confirm visits by Lord Tegmont as well as Lord Cummins, another baron suspected of plotting against the king, but little else.
In addition to the blacksmith’s, Hugh and Matthew had left their names at the gate of the keep to express their interest in the lord’s horses but had not yet been allowed entrance. They’d also stopped by the tanner’s and the potter’s but had come up empty-handed. No one was willing to say anything against Stanwick, not to strangers at any rate.
From what Royce had learned several months ago, the barons were involved in a plot to murder those lords loyal to King Henry, one by one. Their hope was that once others realized loyalty to the king resulted in disastrous consequences they’d reconsider where their allegiance should be placed. While no clear replacement for the king had emerged, several powerful lords had made their interest known. Apparently Tegmont’s death had not put an end to their treasonous plan.
“We’re getting nowhere.” Matthew slumped on the bench in the crowded alehouse.
Hugh was frustrated as well but hadn’t expected this task to be easy. “You must look at this from the townspeople’s point of view. They have no reason to trust two strangers passing through.”
“Back again, eh?” Elsie, the serving maid, asked with a smile.
Matthew straightened, his expression brightening immediately, making Hugh chuckle. “How are you this fine evening?”
“Well enough. Thank you.”
Hugh listened to their conversation with half an ear, his attention focused on searching the room for Liza. He stiffened with surprise when a rounded form plopped onto his lap.
“Aren’t you a handsome one,” an unfamiliar maid said with a smile on her face. Her kirtle was cut low, revealing an overabundance of cleavage. She smiled knowingly when she saw where his gaze caught. “Why don’t you and I find a place where we can…talk.” She drew her hand along his jaw and wiggled her bottom.
With a frown, Hugh slid her off his lap. “I appreciate your offer, but no thank you. I’m not interested.”
“Come on, now. How about a good time?” She reached for his crotch and gave him a squeeze.
His manhood sprang to life, but Hugh had no desire to interact with the forward maid. He removed her hand and shifted away from her on the bench. “Ply your wares on another quarry.”
“Leave off, Mary. You heard him. He’s not interested,” Elsie ordered with a scowl.
The woman pouted and kept her gaze on Hugh. “Won’t you change your mind?”
“Nay. Off with you now.” He gestured for her to leave and returned to his search for Liza.
The unwanted maid rose with a huff and flounced away, much to his relief.
“’Tis best you resisted her, Sir Hugh,” Elsie said as she watched her go. “Rumor has it that she spies for Wymark.”
“Interesting.” Hugh shared a look with Matthew. Now they had the attention of the steward. Hugh wasn’t certain if that was a good thing or not. “My thanks for the information.”
Elsie leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Liza just went to fetch something from the brew room. Might be that she could use the assistance of a big, strong knight such as yourself.�
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Hugh’s mind spun with the possibilities. Before he could think through the wisdom of such a move, he stood and slipped a coin to Elsie. She gave him a grin then sat far too close to Matthew, who didn’t seem to mind at all.
Hugh made his way toward the opposite side of the room where a door marked the entrance to the brew room. He ducked to avoid the oak beam and stepped inside the dim room.
At once the noise of the alehouse quieted and the yeasty scent of ale caught his nose. Oak barrels lined one side of the room along with huge copper pots and wooden paddles. A table sat in the center with a single candle upon it. On the far side, Liza stood near more oak barrels that lay on their sides in racks.
“This is where you make your magic, eh?” he asked, not wanting to startle her.
But he did anyway. She spun at his voice, her hands releasing the barrel she’d been attempting to move.
“I thought you were otherwise occupied.” At his questioning look, she added, “With Mary.”
Hugh suppressed a smile at the realization that Liza had been watching him. “Forward lass, isn’t she? Such a woman is not for the likes of me.”
The scowl on her face eased. Apparently she didn’t care for Mary or her antics. “Did you need something?” she asked, her gaze narrowing as he drew closer.
“Elsie suggested you might need assistance.”
She watched him for a moment as though deciding if she wanted his help. “Hmm… If you’ve a mind to help, I need another cask of ale, but the one I want is in the rear.”
She turned her back to him, stepped up on a platform and pointed, but several barrels were in that general direction. He moved closer to see where she pointed. The scent of berries enveloped him, and he couldn’t resist sniffing her.
“You smell wonderful.” Good enough to eat, he thought but kept that to himself.
“Oh.” Liza turned to look at him, her large brown eyes filled with awareness.
He was so close they were nearly nose to nose. Lips to lips. At the thought, his gaze dropped to her mouth and her lips parted, inviting him in.
Vengeance 01.5 - A Knight's Kiss Page 2