Knight of Deceit (Knights of Passion Series 2)

by Evie North

  It was working! Margaret was beginning to think again, to push away the panic that had taken hold of her, and to see ahead to the future she really wanted.

  “Yes,” she said. She glanced at Sir Walter as if she hardly knew him. “I must go south. For the sake of my country,” she added with a martyr-like air. “For my father’s honour.”

  Maven felt Barlow’s hand slip into hers and squeeze, but she did not dare to look at him.

  “Will you still ride, princess?” Sir Leonard was edging closer, pushing Sir Walter out of the way. Walter, his face like a thunder cloud, was glaring about him.

  “No, I will go in the litter with my sister. Maven, come with me.”

  Maven swallowed. “Yes, my lady. I will just see to your mare. You do not want to be without her and I do not trust the grooms.”

  Margaret wavered.

  “You always look so well upon her,” Maven added silkily.

  Margaret nodded, pleased by the compliment, but her glance upon the mare was indifferent. “Come to me immediately after you are done, Maven.”

  Maven curtseyed.

  “Barlow!” called Sir Walter. “We are leaving.”

  Barlow gave a bow, but his hand remained in Maven’s, tightly entwined. A moment later they were alone, or as alone as they could be in the packed mass of people and horses in the yard. The advance guard of the train began to move, slowly, out onto the road and south to the border.

  “Take the horse,” Barlow whispered in her ear. “I will follow. Go north. I will catch you up. Go now, Maven.”

  Her eyes were wide. She had nothing with her, none of her few belongings, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was being with Barlow. A moment later he had tossed her into the mare’s saddle and she was riding out with the others. No one seemed to mind that she turned north—perhaps they believed she was on some errand for her mistress, or perhaps she was of such little importance they simply didn’t care.

  She would be long gone by the time Princess Margaret realised she was not by her side and started shouting for her. And when it was discovered she was actually missing it would be far too late. Sir Leonard would not be interested in a mere serving maid—he was already tiring of the princess’s demands. All he wanted to do was get her to the border and out of his hands.

  Maven was free.

  *

  Maven had slowed. She glanced behind her but the road was empty. She was alone, and cold. The weather was drizzling and the sky was an unfriendly grey. A raven rose up above her and she watched it fly, wondering if that was a sign she had made a dreadful mistake. Perhaps Barlow had changed his mind, perhaps Sir Walter had prevented him from following, perhaps she should turn around and go back and face Margaret’s wrath.

  And then she heard him calling and this time when she turned Barlow was there, riding swiftly toward her. Suddenly she wasn’t cold or afraid or lonely. Her doubts dissolved like mist before her eyes.

  Barlow’s handsome face was wreathed in smiles and he drew up beside her, his hand reaching for hers. “They are gone,” he said. “By the time they realise we are no longer with them it will be too late.”

  “Oh Barlow.”

  He leaned to kiss her and their lips lingered. “My sweet love, this is the beginning. No more being used by our masters in their schemes. We will live our own lives as we wish to live them.”

  Maven sighed. “Yes, we will simply be Maven and Barlow.”

  “Together,” he agreed and they set out down the road, side by side, heading north.

  Author’s Note

  The two daughters of King William of Scotland were made hostages by the Treaty of Norham, which was drawn up between their father and King John. They were sent to England and married there. Whether they were happy about it or not is unknown, and certainly this account is complete fiction.