Nicholas shifted restlessly at the thought, balking at the approaching end of both. He had come to realise that he needed a task, something to be doing until he could do no more. And as for Emery... Nicholas shifted again as he acknowledged his odd kinship with the boy.
There was something about Emery that reminded him of home, which might explain the peculiar yearning that had struck him. Emery was obviously devoted to his brother, making Nicholas recall his own siblings with new affection. For a moment, he wondered about them and the changes these past months might have wrought, only to push such thoughts aside.
He also dismissed his plan to teach Emery some of his skills. He could not take on another squire, and he was not sure of his own abilities, considering the weariness, flashes of heat and strange giddiness that had come over him today. He would rather not start something he could not finish.
And Emery, like his family, would remember him as he should be, a knight and de Burgh, rather than what he had become.
* * *
Emery woke with a start, disoriented by the sight of unfamiliar walls. A pale glow entered through a narrow window above, where the sky showed the first hint of dawn, and beneath her was a hard mat that was not her bed. Then it all came rushing back: Gerard’s appearance, her panicked flight and everything that had happened since, including her visit to the Templar catacombs. And yet, eclipsing all was what had occurred in this very room.
Lord de Burgh had taken off his clothes.
Although the morning air was cool, Emery felt a sudden flush at the memory. She knew better than to think of it, yet her mind returned to that moment when she had stumbled over the threshold, unsure as to why Guy was arguing over their sleeping arrangements. Perhaps the squire would rather bed down in the hall, but Emery felt safer near Lord de Burgh—at least until he removed his mail.
Then, Emery wasn’t so sure. Transfixed by his casual movements and the flexing of his muscles, she had gaped at him, while her pulse picked up its pace. She still hadn’t understood the implications of spending the night with the man, but then he took off his tunic, as well. And when he stood before her, bared to the waist, Emery felt as though her very heart had stopped.
She’d been unprepared for the huge expanse of sun-bronzed skin that was his back, the wide shoulders and torso tapering to a narrow waist where his braies hung low upon his hips. Heedless of Guy, she’d blinked, breathless, as the great knight bent over a bowl, dipping his large hands in the water. Then he’d taken the soap and slid it across his chest. Wet. Soapy. Gilded by firelight.
Emery had never seen anything like it.
Her heart had thundered, threatening to burst as he tipped back his head, baring his thick throat and loosing a guttural groan. And then, as if he was aware of what he’d wrought, he’d looked at her just as he had in the tunnel. It was lighter in the bedchamber and he wasn’t as close to her, but what passed between them was even more powerful.
And frightening. Emery had need of a knight to help her find her brother, but she wanted nothing of the strange sensations that were stirring inside her. Hot, dizzy and uncomfortable, she finally wrested her gaze away. Afraid for herself—afraid of herself—she had fled to the garderobe, where she put shaking hands to her face and thought of fleeing even further. But where could she go on foot at night? It was a long walk back to the commandery, where her search for Gerard would end and her long penance begin.
Fear of more tangible threats than Lord de Burgh’s dark eyes finally sent her back here and she had made her way to her pallet amid Guy’s heavy snores. But it was not the squire who kept her awake well into the night. Long after she had become used to the sound, Emery remained aware of the man who lay in the bed, bare skin gleaming in the moonlight, his handsome face even more so in the shadows.
Now, as the memory seized hold, so did a terrible urge to look again. Quelling it firmly, Emery turned her face to the window, hoping that the morning air might bring her back to herself. And yet, yesterday, she had felt more alive than she had in years and far more like the self she used to be—except for her sudden interest in a man’s state of undress.
The girl who had trained with her brother would never have felt this way. But that girl had been a child, not a woman. And she had never seen anyone like Lord de Burgh. Who could have predicted such a man?
Emery shook her head, dismissing such thoughts. For a while at least, she could be herself again and that did not include an unwelcome infatuation with one of the de Burgh brothers, no matter how comely they might be. Adjusting her boy’s garb, she sat up and tucked her hair more tightly under her cap. Her twin would not be ogling the men in his company and she shouldn’t, either. She needed to act more like a male and start thinking like one, too.
Yet, somehow, her gaze drifted to the occupant of the bed, where the first rays of sunlight kissed smooth flesh burnished golden. One strong arm was thrown across his wide chest in repose and his dark hair was tousled with sleep. Staring at him, Emery felt funny inside, as though she wanted to weep and smile at the same time, for a certain joy that came with looking upon him was mixed with the knowledge that she should not.
For an instant, Emery let herself imagine what it would be like to wake up beside Nicholas de Burgh and not on a pallet on the floor by his bed, to be acknowledged as a woman, not a passing youth. And her heart pounded with such yearning that she told herself ’twas just as well that she could do neither.
* * *
Nicholas nodded his approval of the little palfrey Kenrick offered him from the manor’s stock and they concluded the transaction to their mutual benefit. Kenrick had assured him that he could return the animal later, but in the meantime Emery would have a mount. And as he led the sprightly creature towards where Guy and the boy waited, Nicholas felt absurdly pleased with his purchase.
It was a necessity, nothing more, but still he enjoyed presenting the gift. The boy’s surprise and delight was a gift in return, reminding him of the bonds of brotherhood and friendship.
‘Should our paths cross that of the Templar, we shall need speed and the ability to manoeuvre,’ Nicholas said when Emery protested the expense. ‘Guy cannot be worried about you hanging on behind while he rides.’
Emery nodded and Nicholas felt something constrict in his chest. He told himself this odd connection with the boy was brought on by yearning for his own family or perhaps even the son he would never have, yet he deliberately did not gaze directly into those bright blue eyes.
‘I’ve a short sword for you, as well, should the need arise,’ Nicholas said. Emery nodded again, but Guy sputtered in protest.
‘Surely that is not necessary, my lord,’ the squire said, with a shocked expression.
‘Even a child can hack with a sword if cornered,’ Nicholas said. While only knights and those attending them were trained in the use of such weapons, ’twas better to be armed rather than not, if they were waylaid by Gwayne or any of the brigands who preyed upon the roads.
‘But ’tis dangerous! Emery might...get hurt,’ Guy said.
‘I hardly think the boy will cut himself,’ Nicholas answered. And when Guy looked as though he might say more, Nicholas lifted his brows, effectively putting an end to the discussion.
* * *
Muttering to himself, as was his wont lately, Guy had kept shaking his head long after they had left Roode behind. And several times during the morning’s ride, he seemed ready to broach some subject, only to fall silent. Nicholas wasn’t sure whether his squire was worried about Emery or jealous of the boy, but either way, he did not want to be distracted by petty disputes.
After what the priest had said about Gwayne, Nicholas was more concerned with the Templar, who might still be roaming the area. But they saw no other travellers, only the occasional shepherd or freeman. Despite the stunning vistas, the moors were a lonely place and he would not mind leaving them behind.
Abruptly, Nicholas wondered what Emery thought and if he ever had a desire to journey away fro
m his home. As usual, the young man was quiet, perhaps even more so today. Now that he had his own mount, Emery seemed to keep to himself, so when he approached, Nicholas felt absurdly pleased, an uncomfortable reaction at best. What the devil ailed him? Nicholas wondered again.
‘Montbard Manor lies beyond these trees, my lord,’ Emery said, gesturing towards the copse of elms ahead. ‘If you please, I will wait for you within the wood. I have no love for my uncle and fear that my presence, indeed, the mere mention of me, might compromise the search for Gerard.’
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed, for he did not see how a stranger would have more success than a relative in the hunt for a missing member of the family. ‘Why would your uncle speak freely to me of Gerard’s whereabouts?’
‘Because you are a de Burgh,’ Emery said, his mouth twisting wryly. ‘And Harold is nothing if not ambitious, hungry to associate with the wealthy and powerful.’
Nicholas frowned. Personally, he was not wealthy or powerful, but his name was known and honoured, and if that would gain Harold’s trust, then he would use it. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will make no mention of you, only that I am bound to help Gerard, which is true enough.’
Emery’s relief was obvious and Nicholas sensed there was more to the story than the boy was telling. However, they could not linger here, else they be marked. With a nod, Nicholas urged them onwards into the trees.
Yet he found himself reluctant to leave the boy behind. He was struck by the notion that Emery might disappear in their absence, whether by his own accord or someone else’s. While Nicholas and Guy could take care of themselves, Emery seemed ill experienced in the ways of the world and a short sword would do little against a determined foe. So Nicholas hesitated, his destrier growing restive, until Emery’s blue gaze met his own.
‘I’ll be fine,’ the boy said, as though reading his thoughts, and Nicholas looked away, feeling foolish. Setting his mouth into a firm line, he left the copse, with Guy not far behind.
But his uneasiness continued. Like Temple Roode, Montbard seemed unusually quiet. Of course, Harold could have gone travelling, taking most of the servants with him. ’Twould not be unusual, yet there was something about the silence that struck Nicholas with foreboding and he put his hand to the hilt of his sword.
‘The place seems deserted,’ Guy said, echoing his thoughts.
‘You wait here,’ Nicholas said. ‘Should anything happen, make sure that you take Emery with you to my brother Geoffrey’s home, as it is not too distant.’
‘No, my lord!’ Guy protested. ‘I am bound to you.’
Nicholas shook his head. Guy’s loyalty did him justice, but it surpassed his courage and they had Emery to consider now. Better that the two youths escape than endanger themselves for his sake, especially now.
‘I would be assured of your safety, though I do not expect trouble nor do I seek it,’ Nicholas said. And he spoke the truth. Normally, a manorial farm such as this one harboured no threats, but nothing since his encounter with Gerard Montbard had been normal. And there was always the possibility that Gwayne had followed up yesterday’s visit to the Hospitaller commandery with a stop here.
When Guy gave his reluctant assent, Nicholas dismounted, yet still no one came out to greet him. The building appeared ill tended and Nicholas wondered about the arrangement Emery had mentioned. If the land itself belonged to the commandery, Harold might lack the resources to properly maintain the house he had gained.
Unheralded, Nicholas walked to the stone archway that had once held a large door, but now served as a portal to a smaller entrance. It was into this dim passage that he moved cautiously, only to watch the heavy wood swing inwards at his approach.
Nicholas stepped back, ready to draw his weapon, but it seemed that an empty hall greeted him. Scanning the dim recesses of the interior, he was at a loss, for he knew no errant breeze could have moved the heavy wood. He waited warily, but when the door wobbled, at last he spied a presence. A small boy, hardly old enough to manage the door, peeked around it to gaze up at Nicholas wide-eyed.
Moving inside, Nicholas kept a wary eye on his surroundings, but all he saw were the same subtle signs of neglect. Had Harold fallen upon hard times, or had his efforts won him a place to live and little else? Or was something more insidious responsible for Nicholas’s lack of welcome?
With no one else in attendance, Nicholas was forced to address the boy, who might be serving as a page, despite his apparent youth. ‘Please advise Master Montbard that Lord de Burgh seeks an audience.’
The child simply shook his head, forcing Nicholas to sink down on his haunches to face the lad directly. His manner had been formal, but now he spoke gently. ‘Is Master Montbard here?’
Again, the boy shook his head. ‘He’s gone searching for the parcel,’ the child said. ‘The parcel Gerard wanted.’
It was all Nicholas could do not to seize the boy at the casual mention of the man he was seeking, but he kept his tone even. ‘Gerard is here?’
The child shook his head again. ‘He was here, but he ran away.’
Nicholas tried not to react to the boy’s choice of words. ‘Has Master Montbard gone to find him?’
Once more, the child shook his head. ‘Master Montbard has gone to look for the parcel.’
‘What parcel?’ Nicholas asked.
‘The one that Gerard sent to Emery,’ the boy said. ‘So the master went to where Emery lives now.’
Where Emery lives now? Had Gerard returned there, as well? If so, he might be dismayed to find Emery gone. And he might be even more dismayed to find his uncle at his heels, especially if he ‘ran away’ from the man. Nicholas rose to his feet, eager to give chase himself, lest Gerard slip through his fingers yet again.
But the sound of approaching footsteps stopped him and Nicholas put a hand to the hilt of his sword, just in case Harold had returned and would take exception to a stranger in his hall. But the new arrival was only a plump, older woman, who appeared none too happy to see an armed knight looming over what might be her child.
From her dress and bearing, Nicholas could not tell whether she was a valued servant or poor relation, but he inclined his head in greeting. ‘I am Nicholas de Burgh and am seeking Gerard Montbard, a Hospitaller knight I have sworn to aid.’
The woman paled, presumably at the mention of Gerard, who appeared to have left havoc in his wake, wherever he went.
‘He has been here?’ Nicholas asked, hoping for confirmation of what the boy had told him.
‘Yes, but he’s gone now,’ she said, as if eager for Nicholas to leave, as well. Was she just reticent, with the wariness of isolated folk? Or did she hesitate to speak without Harold’s approval? Nicholas wished that he had questioned Emery more fully about the household.
‘Do you know where I can find him?’ Nicholas asked. ‘He was ill at last report and in need of protection against a Templar knight who would do him harm.’
‘The Templar!’
Nicholas turned in surprise at the sound of the boy, who was quickly hushed by the woman. ‘Was a Templar knight here, as well?’ Nicholas asked.
The woman shook her head. ‘We know only that Gerard spoke of such a man. He was...ill. But he went away. We know not where.’
She was telling the truth, of that Nicholas was certain. But she was afraid, most likely of Harold, a man whom Nicholas was increasingly eager to question. Something or someone had sent Gerard fleeing from this place and that someone was probably Harold. Nicholas would take a grim pleasure in finding out.
‘Master Montbard had gone to the old gatehouse?’ he asked.
The woman’s eyes widened in surprise at his knowledge and Nicholas did not mention its source. ‘I am not at liberty to speak of the master’s whereabouts,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you will find him in residence at some later time.’
Obviously, Nicholas was not welcome to wait, which was just as well because his instincts were telling him the sooner he got to the gatehouse, the better. And if
this Harold was so feared... Nicholas felt a sudden sharp concern for Emery and, with the barest of civilities, he left the manor, eager to assure himself of the boy’s safety.
Outside, he was relieved to find Guy, but he did not waste time reporting upon his odd encounters. He was too intent upon retrieving Emery and heading on to the boy’s home. Even if Gerard was not there, it appeared that Harold would be and Nicholas intended to find out why he was not searching for his ailing relative, but for a parcel that, by the page’s account, did not even belong to him.
Too late, Nicholas realised why Emery had been reluctant to accompany him here and his uneasiness about leaving the boy behind increased. He approached the wood warily. When he did not immediately spy Emery, his heart tripped in panic. Frantically, he scanned the area where they had left the boy until Guy pointed towards a gap in the leaves. His squire’s calm manner made Nicholas feel foolish and his jaw tightened as he peered into the foliage. Still, he felt giddy with relief when the nose of the palfrey appeared. He whistled softly and the animal nickered and moved towards them.
But its saddle was empty.
For a long moment, Nicholas stared, his emotions a mixture of dismay, anger and something unidentifiable. He was supposed to be one of the steadiest of the de Burghs and his brothers counted upon him to retain his reason in the midst of tumult. But right now he felt like howling his pain to the skies. And then, above the pounding of his heart, he heard a voice.
‘Here I am, my lord.’
The sound of Emery’s speech made Nicholas feel weak. Had the boy fallen? Nicholas looked at the ground only to realise that a rustling was coming from above. Lifting his head, Nicholas saw Emery nimbly swing from a limb to land upon his feet.
‘What the devil?’ The words burst from Nicholas as though the breath had been knocked from him.
The Last de Burgh Page 6