“I can get down from the carriage on my own.”
Why did she have to be so damned stubborn? He was tempted to outright ask her, but he didn’t want the conversation to become an argument. “I am sure, under normal circumstances, you could get down without assistance, but you have just been through a frightening ordeal.” If she still resisted, he’d mention her shaking hands.
“You may not be eager to get out of this contraption, Amelia, but I am.” Her hips swaying, Nanette crossed to the doorway and, with a coy smile, slid her fingers into his. Avoiding direct eye contact—he didn’t want to encourage the girl’s advances—he clasped her right hand and helped her down to the ground. When he tried to release her, she beamed and pressed his fingers in thanks before letting go.
He turned to Amelia. “Now you.”
She tucked loose strands of hair back behind her ear, clearly hesitant. Sunlight gleamed on the gold ring on her right hand—a jewel that would have been taken from her, if he and his men hadn’t stopped the outlaws. She could have lost far more than the ring, including her virtue. Thankfully he’d been able to disrupt the attack.
Amelia approached the doorway.
At last.
She extended her hand to grasp his. Her slender fingers were smooth and unblemished, as he’d expect of a noblewoman with a castle of servants to do her bidding.
As his fingers closed around hers, he caught a better view of her ring. The wide band was set with sapphires, rubies, and emeralds.
Shock jolted through him, for unless he was very much mistaken, ’twas his missing ring.
How had she gotten hold of it?
His fingers instinctively tightened, and she pulled back in response. He didn’t let go, though, and in the end, she had no choice but to step down to the ground.
“Thank you,” Amelia said, trying to withdraw her hand.
He held on, for he’d not let her escape just yet. “I could not help but notice your ring.”
Her cautious gaze locked with his.
“Where did you come by it?”
“Tilden gave it to me, shortly before he died.”
Ryder’s mind raced. Her brother had been among the lords invited to Brindston Keep the night the ring had been stolen. After the evening feast, Ryder had invited Tilden, Gladwin, Stephen, and six other lords to retire the solar; a more intimate gathering in which to enrich friendships and alliances. The wine had flowed—Gladwin, as usual, had kept their goblets filled—and they’d laughed, shared stories, and gotten ridiculously drunk before his guests had retired to their chambers. When Ryder had woken the next morning, head pounding, he’d discovered the ring, which he’d worn on a thin cord around his neck, gone. When asked, all of the men denied having taken the jewel.
Had Tilden in fact taken it? If so, why would he have lied to Ryder about it?
Again Amelia tried to free her hand, but he held on.
“Let me go, please.”
“Did Tilden say where he acquired the ring?”
“He did not. Now—”
“Would you mind taking it off, so I can have a better look at it?”
She frowned. “Why is it of such interest to you?”
Beware. Until he knew what in hellfire was going on, the less he told her, the better.
Deciding to drop the matter for the moment—at least he now knew where to find the jewel—he released her hand. “Some of my men are returning from the forest. If you will excuse me, I will ask what they found.”
***
Ryder strode away, while Nanette’s gaze wandered over him from head to heel. “Just look at him! No wonder you kept him to yourself.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “I did no such—”
“Is he married?”
“Not that I know of.” Honor had disappeared into the woods. “Honor, come here,” Amelia called.
“Was Ryder ever married? Does he have any children?”
God above. As the wolfhound, tail wagging, trotted over to Amelia, she said, “I do not believe Ryder is a father.”
Nanette wrinkled her nose. “You do not know for certain? How strange. He seemed to know you fairly well, since he called you Amelia, rather than Lady Bainbridge.”
True. Nanette obviously wasn’t going to relent until she’d gleaned at least some good information. “Ryder and I were childhood playmates. He was one of Tilden’s closest friends, but he and I have not spoken in years.”
“Heavens. Why not?”
Now wasn’t the best moment to further dwell upon the past. Moreover, since Ryder had been gallant in rescuing them, Amelia would not speak ill of him in front of Nanette. “’Tis a story I might tell you one day.”
“Soon, I hope.” Nanette grinned like a naughty little girl. “I can tell ’tis a good one.”
“Aye, well, as Ryder pointed out, there are more important considerations right now. Come on.” Honor at her side, Amelia headed for the captain-of-the-guard. With a disgruntled huff, Nanette fell in alongside them.
The captain-of-the guard was having his left arm bandaged by one of Ryder’s men. As she neared, he attempted to bow, but she shook her head. “No need for formalities. How are you?”
“I took an arrow, milady, and got a few bruises when I fell from my horse, but otherwise, am fine.”
She glanced at the rest of her guards, still having their wounds tended. “Are the others going to be all right?”
“I believe so, once they have healed.”
The tread of footfalls told her that several people approached. Ryder joined them, followed by three men. “The outlaws got away,” he said grimly.
“Is there no way to track them?” When the others looked at Amelia in surprise—they obviously weren’t used a lady asking such questions—she added, “Surely they left a trail. Broken branches. Footprints.”
“We followed the outlaws as far as we could, milady,” a man-at-arms answered, “but they ran into a stream. Once they went into the water, our chance of finding them was lost.”
“Unfortunate.” And disappointing. The outlaws would likely continue their attacks. In the next assault, folk could die.
Ryder set his hands on his hips. “I suggest—”
“We must get descriptions of the attackers from our men,” she cut in. “While they wore masks, other details, such as their style of clothing or boots or weapons, may be important for finding them.”
Ryder’s wry gaze shifted to her. “I was just going to suggest that.”
“Oh. Well, good.”
“I will alert the sheriff as to what happened here,” Ryder continued. “He will want reports from all involved.”
Honor had also bitten one of the thugs; the wound might help identify him. “The sheriff should be aware that some of the outlaws are noblemen.” As Ryder’s expression hardened, she added, “The one who ordered us out of the carriage was a lord. Honor bit him on the wrist, hard enough to draw blood.”
“Did you by chance recognize his voice?”
“Nay, for he disguised it.” She might have chatted with the man at feasts and other celebrations. She may even have danced with him.
Her surroundings suddenly blurred. She blinked hard, to find Ryder had caught her elbow to steady her.
“Are you all right?” he asked with concern.
“I-I am.” In truth, Amelia felt rather lightheaded, and not just because of her unsettling thoughts. From where Ryder touched, unfamiliar hot-cold tingles spread along her arm.
“You do look a bit wan.” Nanette also looked worried about her.
“We should get you somewhere safe before we expect you to answer more questions,” Ryder said.
“I agree, milord.” The captain-of-the-guard glanced at the forest. “We do not want the outlaws to return.”
“Return?” Nanette nervously echoed.
Amelia’s head ached; the strain of the ambush was catching up with her. She was simply not up to fulfilling her plans for the day. “I must get a message to the tavern in Lynborn. We planned to
meet Gladwin, but—”
“Worry not,” Ryder said. “I will see it done.”
“All right. Thank you. Now, if you do not mind, I would like to go home.”
Ryder shook his head. “My keep is nearer. I will send a man-at-arms on ahead; he will tell the healer to prepare for the wounded.”
“What a marvelous offer.” Nanette sounded delighted.
’Twas indeed generous of Ryder, but Amelia would rather not be beholden to him in any way. “Many thanks, but—”
He let go of her elbow to catch her right hand and gently kiss her fingers. “Please,” he murmured, as Nanette cooed like a maiden about to swoon. “Allow me to be chivalrous.”
’Twould be easiest to refuse Ryder’s offer. With Tilden gone, though, and so much unrest in England, Amelia would be wise to rekindle her friendship with Ryder, for she might need his help again one day. And, after his gallant rescue, she’d be a fool to risk offending him, above all, in front of his men.
“’Tis a most thoughtful invitation,” she said with a gracious nod. “I am honored to accept.”
Chapter Four
With a gritty thud, the drawbridge of Brindston Keep settled into place across the moat. As Ryder spurred his horse forward and its hooves clattered on the weathered planks, a sense of pride wove through him. While the fortress still needed some repairs, ’twas in far better condition than when he’d received it from the crown.
The previous liege, who’d fallen into disfavor for not being able to pay taxes owed to the crown, had died five months past. The castle had been without a ruler until it had been ceded to Ryder. He, Gladwin, Stephen, and Tilden had journeyed home from Crusade together, and not long after they’d arrived in London at the beginning of May, he, Gladwin, and Stephen had been awarded their estates. Tilden had been informed of his sire’s death and thus his inheritance of Callingston Keep.
Thanks to his late father’s diligence, Tilden hadn’t inherited any debt. Concerned about the financial ruin of his estate, Ryder had sold some personal effects he’d inherited from his parents as well as tapestries he’d bought in France on his return to England. The tapestries had been a good investment, for he’d raised enough coin to pay off what was owed with some left over.
Gladwin and Stephen hadn’t been so lucky. They were struggling to find ways to eliminate their estates’ debts. A regrettable circumstance, but they’d needed to be ceded lands bordering Tilden’s and Ryder’s, and not just to support each other as allies. Somewhere on one of the four estates, they’d hide the Templar treasure.
While they’d met twice to discuss where to conceal the hoard, no firm decision had been reached. And then, three weeks ago, the ring Ryder was to protect had been stolen.
Thankfully, he’d now recovered the jewel. Aye, Amelia still had it, but with her secured within his castle’s walls, he’d ensure the ring would once again be in his possession.
He might be leaving the Order, but he’d end his career as a Templar with honor, and with his obligations to them fulfilled.
Ryder neared his fortress’s gatehouse and heard Amelia’s carriage rumble onto the drawbridge behind him. What would she think of his home? Mayhap ’twas foolish of him, but he wanted her to be impressed.
As he rode out of the gatehouse’s shadows into the bailey, the scent of roasting meat wafted from the open door of the kitchens. The breeze also carried the laughter and chatter of servants unloading a wagon full of firewood and children splashing in a puddle by the well.
He halted his horse near the thatch-roofed stable, and several young men hurried out of the building to assist.
“Good journey, milord?” a dark-haired lad asked.
Ryder handed the young man the destrier’s reins. “Better than expected.” He slid down from his mount and strode to the carriage, halted near a water trough.
One of Amelia’s men-at-arms was about to open the carriage door, but Ryder waved him away. “Help get your injured friends to the infirmary.”
“Aye, milord.”
When Ryder opened the door, Honor blocked the doorway. The dog barked twice.
Frowning, Ryder said, “You and I are friends. Remember?”
The wolfhound wagged its tail and licked its lips then jumped out of the carriage.
Ryder helped Nanette out, and then Amelia.
“This is really most kind of you,” she said. He was glad to see more color in her cheeks now. “I am sure you are very busy, though, so we will not be staying long.”
You will stay as long as I choose. Ryder nodded, as though agreeing with her, and gestured to the keep’s forebuilding. “Come and have a drink with me.”
Nanette beamed as though he’d offered her a costly present. “I am rather thirsty.”
“As am I.” Amelia glanced at her guards, who were being helped to the infirmary. “But, my men—”
“They will be well cared for,” Ryder assured her. “My servants will give them food, drink, and aught else that they need.”
“So very gallant of him,” Nanette said in a whisper loud enough for Ryder to hear.
Trying hard not to grin, Ryder walked with them to the iron-bound door of the forebuilding and escorted them up the enclosed stone stairs illuminated by burning reeds. On the last few steps, Honor raced past them to reach the great hall first.
A maidservant had just finished adding more logs to the fire in the massive hearth, and Ryder summoned her over. “Please fetch a good wine and the silver goblets.”
“Of course, milord.” She curtsied and hurried out.
“Mother Mary,” Amelia murmured, her gaze on the vibrantly-hued weaving hanging on the far wall—one of the tapestries he hadn’t been able to part with. The dried herbs and straw covering the floor crackled as she walked farther into the vast room with its high ceiling. Honor had followed Nanette to the fire and was making friends with a pair of Ryder’s hounds who’d been dozing on the warm hearth tiles.
His attention returned to Amelia, gilded by sunshine. How exquisite she looked, with her hair gleaming and her gown shimmering against her body’s dips and curves. While she was a grown woman now, he could still remember her as she’d been years ago. In the set of her lush mouth, the curve of her cheek, the inquisitive tilt of her head, he saw the willful girl who’d felt threatened by his friendship with her beloved brother—a sibling who not long ago had been taken from her, leaving her with no one to depend upon but herself.
Her family was related to a powerful Norman earl who’d fought alongside William the Conqueror, so ’twas a miracle that the crown, upon Tilden’s death, hadn’t swiftly arranged a marriage for her. With her brother no longer around to watch over her, and England in crisis, the crown would see her as a lucrative prize, to be awarded to secure military and financial support for King Richard.
Did she realize how perilous her situation was? Aye, she probably did. She wouldn’t like to be reminded of it, but Ryder must use any possible but honest means to convince her to give him the ring; he wasn’t going to commit sin and steal it from her. If he must intervene in crown affairs on her behalf to get the jewel, or call in favors to ensure she had a secure future ahead of her, he would.
She was still admiring the tapestry which depicted two Templar knights, holding swords and white-painted shields bearing the red cross; they were fighting a dragon at a lakeshore. He’d bought it because it had reminded him of an afternoon in his childhood when he and Tilden had undertaken a make-believe quest. Amelia had been upset that she couldn’t be a knight as well, and as he’d witnessed her distress, he’d realized, in that moment, how much she’d meant to him.
Ryder crossed to her. “Do you like the tapestry?”
“Very much. ’Twas in this hall when you became lord?”
“Nay. I bought it from a French merchant on my way home from Crusade. I purchased eight different designs, but later sold all but two.”
“The scene reminds me of…our childhood.”
He smiled. “The day Tilde
n and I sought the Holy Grail?”
She nodded.
“’Tis why I bought it, too.”
“What was it like on Crusade?” Nanette asked. She was sitting in one of the chairs by the hearth, but obviously didn’t want to be left out of the conversation. “Was it exciting being in foreign lands?”
“Exciting?” he asked. “In what way?”
“The towns, the foods, even the animals must have been very different from those in England. The things you must have experienced and seen….”
Some of what he’d experienced and seen, he longed to forget. Even now, in the dark night hours, past battles haunted him, as did the faces of colleagues who’d died and Saracens he’d slain. ’Twould have been easy for the torment to destroy him, but at Acre, he’d learned a way to distract his focus: he’d thought of Amelia, how exquisite she’d looked at Merringstow in her revealing gown, of the way her loveliness had enticed him. She was the reason he’d survived the emotional hell, although he’d never dare to tell her so.
“I did enjoy traveling through distant lands by both land and sea,” Ryder answered. “However, like my fellow Templars, I was there because of my duty to protect pilgrims and fight with King Richard.”
Amelia’s gaze returned to the tapestry. “Tilden was proud to belong to the Order.”
“We all were,” Ryder said, thinking also of Stephen and Gladwin. The four of them had fought side by side; they’d saved each others’ lives many times.
“Is it true that the Templars brought treasure home from the East?” Amelia asked, glancing at him.
God’s blood.
“Treasure?” Nanette echoed.
Keeping his tone light, Ryder asked, “Where did you hear such rumors?”
Amelia shrugged, as though reluctant to divulge more details.
“Did you mention the rumors to Tilden? If so, what did he say?” Ryder truly hoped that if the Templars had been betrayed, her sibling wasn’t the traitor.
“Tilden dismissed them as nonsense. Then he fell ill, and when he was dying…. Well, it hardly matters. What he told me made no sense.”
Ryder must find out exactly what Tilden had said, but not in front of Nanette or in this very public place.
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