She gave an unladylike grunt and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You exaggerate,” she declared. “Even the village idiot would not consider the mishaps I encountered anywhere near death experiences.”
“You dare call me an idiot?”
“I dare to tell the truth,” she said scathingly. “Need I point out that if I was not in the tavern with you, a fight would never have ensued? My intent was to speak to the inn keeper and be on my way. I had no plans to stay here overnight, nor had I any plans to have you stuck to my side like a nasty thorn.”
Derrik clenched his jaw, his eyes bulging slightly. “My lady, let me point out that I saved your life once again, although I don’t know why I bother,” he said, his voice filled with disgust. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you deliberately put yourself in danger.”
“As I said before, I could have taken care of myself.” She tilted her chin up in the air and looked down her nose at him. “I told you to return to Stanbury, but you insisted in following me. ‘Tis not my fault that you get into these scrapes.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but then he snapped it shut. If he could murder her with just one look, this glare would have done it.
Derrik spun on his heels and jerked the door open. But before he stepped out into the hallway, he said in a terrible voice, “If you leave this room, you will be sorry.”
And with that, he pulled the door closed, and missed seeing her tongue sticking out at him.
***
Amelie paced up and down the small chamber, feeling cooped up and helpless. She glared at the door. Derrik was likely gallivanting all over the inn and who knew where else. She let out a growl of frustration, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Then when ten minutes passed, her anger began to dissipate.
Wandering over to the small stool by the table, she sat down. She knew now that Derrik wanted to help her find her father. He had proven this enough times by intervening on her behalf. She also knew she needed Derrik’s help, but at the same time she didn’t want anything to do with him. She pressed her finger tips to her forehead as she realized her conflict. Alas, she couldn’t allow her own discomfort to take precedence over her mission.
Perhaps if they worked together as a team, they would have better success in locating her father. In all her dealings with Derrik, he sounded sincere in wanting to get to the truth, much like her. But if she angered him too much, he might change his mind and leave her. She had to admit that his menacing ways proved useful at times, especially when she needed to extract information from someone like the inn keeper. If Derrik wasn’t present, the inn keeper might have just taken her money and not reveal anything to her.
Minutes passed, and there were a dozen times when she was on the verge of opening the door and go after him to apologize, but then she thought better of it. It was best that he cooled his temper. And when he returned, she would speak to him more reasonably.
Once again, she began to pace the confines of the room. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, Derrik’s words had really shaken her. She had left Stanbury Castle, confident that she had the means to defend herself, but outside the protection of her home, she was just another female.
Amelie had no idea what would have happened if Derrik hadn’t stepped in and interfered a second time. She was transfixed with horror when the man tossed ale on Derrik’s face. At any other time, she might have reacted more strongly, and prevented the stranger from dragging her across the tavern. She shuddered to think if the man really did intend to ravage her as Derrik suggested. Her screams would likely be ignored, as no one in the village would stick out their necks to assist her. As far as they were concerned, she was just another traveler passing through the village. And even though crimes against women were against the law, most people turned a blind eye to women in trouble.
Glancing at the closed shutter, Amelie heard the distinctive peal of the church bell, indicating an hour had passed.
She couldn’t wait any longer.
Although she hated to beg Derrik for help, she knew she needed to do it. Lord Stanbury was still missing, and every hour that went by became more desperate.
With Derrik’s warning ringing in her head, she gathered her courage, and went to the door. But before her hand even touched the wooden handle, the door itself swung open.
“Derrik,” she said, jumping back in surprise.
“Who else were you expecting?” he said, looking at her strangely.
She colored. “You were gone so long that I was afraid that something happened to you.”
“Oh, really,” he said, arching a doubtful brow.
“Where were you?”
“I decided I wanted to eat narrois pie after all,” he shrugged.
She eyed his curled lips suspiciously. If anything, they looked…satisfied? “Perhaps ‘twas fortunate that I did not follow you after all,” she said, her lips pressed into a thin line. “’Twould have been most awkward to find you eating pie with a wench sitting on your lap. Perhaps if you saw me, you would have lost that cheerful expression that is now on your face.”
Derrik put his hands to his heart. “You wound me, my lady,” he declared. “Why would I need to hear the sweet whispers of a wench when I can have my fill of your acid tongue?” His lips twitched and then he burst out laughing. “If my ears deceive me, I would think that you’re jealous.”
“Me? Jealous?” She placed one hand on her hip while the other hand flicked her long hair over her shoulder. “That is the most ludicrous idea I have ever heard.”
“’Tis only a jest, my lady. I don’t want to start another argument.” He gave her a winning smile. “Can we call a truce?”
Amelie looked at him for a long while, ever mindful of the assistance that she needed from him. “Aye,” she said finally and nodded. “I have been in this inn for far too long,” she sniffed her nose at the sparsely decorated surroundings. “And I am feeling like a caged animal. I wish that morning was already here, and we can go speak to the stable boy.”
Dropping her hand from her hip, she suddenly felt tired. All the fruitless events of the day were starting to catch up with her. The little information that she found, while interesting, proved useless in revealing Lord Stanbury’s whereabouts.
She placed a hand to her brows, slowly massaging the tension there. Now that Derrik was back, she was suddenly hesitant in appealing for his help. Just seeing his handsome face made her body react strangely, and she began to question the wisdom in staying so close to him.
“I want to know something, Sir Derrik,” she said before she could stop herself.
He quirked a quizzical eyebrow at her. “What is it that you want to know?”
“Why do I need your help?” she asked wearily. “I told you that I can take care of myself. I have lived nineteen years — and two months — without a knight to champion me, and I have never come to harm.” Her hands dropped and she fingered the sleeves of her tunic. “Ever since I met you, I have faced danger at every turn. I am beginning to think that perhaps ‘tis you who brings me such bad luck.” She gave him a challenging look, and when he didn’t respond to the accusation, she twisted her mouth into a frown and shook her head. “Forgive me if I do not understand your motives.”
He studied her, and still hadn’t said a thing.
Amelie averted her face, not wanting him to see her frustration. She was weary from her travel, and was ever aware of the hours that were quickly passing by. Ester and Mistress May had vanished. Whether harm had befallen them, or if they disappeared on their own accord, Amelie would never know. She had been attacked not once but twice. And the things that she did discover brought more questions than answers.
“So,” he said softly, “you’re finally asking me for my help, are you?”
“Against my better judgment, aye,” she replied. “For it seems that I am unsuccessful in finding anything on my own.”
“I’ve been assisting you ever since we left the Healer’s cottage,”
he said. “There’s no need to ask any further. As you’re well aware, I’m also searching for your father. If he is as innocent as you say, he has nothing to fear from me or the king.” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed as if he carried a heavy burden. “In your quest to seek your father, you have become a target. And knowing this, ‘tis not within my conscience to allow anyone to hurt you.”
“I thank you for this, sire,” she said softly.
Derrik inclined his head, and moved toward the little window on the far side of the room. Somehow the room felt stifling. He pushed open the shutters. The rain was still streaming down like a heavy sheet, and the road below was devoid of any man or beast. In the distance, he could hear the faint strains of a lute drifting up to their room. This wasn’t the first time he questioned the wisdom of his involvement. King Edward had asked him to investigate Lord Stanbury. That alone was a simple task, except the lord was missing, and Derrik found himself dangerously embroiled with the lord’s beautiful daughter. Still, he had his duty, and he meant to fulfill it.
“I will have to say though,” he said, turning around to face her. “As you appear closer to finding answers, more danger and difficulties come your way. Why is that?”
“I might have found more answers downstairs.”
He shook his head impatiently. “I don’t know how many times I have to repeat this: questioning random people, or giving them money to answer your queries is futile. As I have said, we’re dealing with high treason, and your father may be involved with dangerous people.” He laced his fingers and placed them on top of his head as he regarded her. “Unfortunately if you offer people money, they will tell you anything you want to hear, even if ‘tis a lie. Then, there is the possibility that your father is guilty. Any person who aids, or gives him comfort will be hanged with a similar noose.” He paused. “Even you.”
Although chilled by his words, Amelie adamantly shook her head. “I told you that my father is innocent. He would never commit an act of treason. I swear it on my life.”
“How well do you really know your father?” he asked. “Are you privy to everything he does?” When Amelie didn’t answer him, he nodded his head. “Your silence says it all. Not many men reveal everything to their womenfolk,” he said gently, “I suspect King Edward would not have sent me to investigate your father if there was no substance to the accusation. I don’t want to see you hurt, but Amelie, you need to face the facts. This disloyalty to the king will not go unpunished. And make no mistake, the perpetrator of this conspiracy will be hanged and quartered.”
The glum look on her face made him feel pity for her. “Come, let us not speak about this any further. ‘Tis clear that it upsets you. We’ll rest now, and tomorrow we’ll go speak to the stable boy.”
Chapter 18
“Perhaps resting is a good idea,” Amelie agreed.
Try as she might, she couldn’t put aside the dreary thoughts that had plagued her all day. She knew that if Lord Stanbury was found guilty, there would be no justice in a king’s trial. Her Uncle Roldan held a high position in the king’s court, and his word had weight. If Roldan persuaded King Edward that her father was a traitor, the king would not hesitate to mete out his punishment.
“I’m glad that we can agree on something tonight,” Derrik said, the tension around his eyes softening just as the corners of his lips turned up.
Amelie gazed into his blue eyes, and then her attention involuntarily drifted to his mouth. His firm lips twitched ever so slightly, and she turned her head, feeling herself redden. He knew how much he was affecting her; she was sure of it. She could sense him studying her face, and she wished that she had the ability to sink into the floorboards and disappear.
But she was not a coward.
“Aye,” she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “If we learn to work together, perhaps we can locate my father much quicker.”
As she walked over to the bed, she became aware of his eyes following her. Then sitting down, she swung her legs onto the straw mattress and lay down stiffly. Her woolen gown was still damp from the rain, but she didn’t dare take off her overtunic.
And even though she had her face turned away, her ears were tuned to every sound, every creak that came from the other side of the room. Margery wasn’t here to stop anything from happening. And even though Amelie tried to push that alarming thought away, the idea brought about a spark of interest that refused to be tamped down. What really happened between a man and a woman? And if she kissed Derrik again, would she then experience the same sensation as before?
But experiencing that sensation again wasn’t safe, a small part of her warned. Had the inn keeper’s wife not interrupted them the last time, things would have progressed further than was proper. And besides, she was unsure about her feelings for Derrik. Was it lust or something more?
When their lips touched, any control she had over her actions disappeared like vapor. The kiss earlier had roused something inside her, and her body craved the tender onslaught, eager to see if it would sweep her away in another wave of bliss. And while she wanted to experience it again, she was frightened by it.
Even now if she closed her eyes, she could feel the pressure of his lips and how his hard body crushed against hers. She had never been this intimate with a man, and she wasn’t sure if she even liked it.
Amelie could hear Derrik moving across the room, and even though she tried not to care, her mind traced exactly where he was and what he was doing. Until now she had never been so obsessed with a man, and the idea annoyed her.
And yet somehow the room felt hotter than usual, and she could only attribute that to the direction of her wanton thoughts. There were so many things wrong with this situation, and she prayed that no one ever found out about it. A loud thump occurred at the far side of the room, like an object falling down. She opened her eyes and looked over, only too glad for the distraction. Where these impious thoughts came from, she didn’t know, but now that they were here, they were impossible to turn off.
At first, she noticed that the small stool had toppled over, and then she caught sight of Derrik. Shaking her head, her eyes widened with disbelief. Amelie pushed herself upright, the force of the movement making a dent in the mattress. She knew she should close her eyes, but it was almost a curse that the warm light from the candle lit the room, and she could see very clearly what he was doing. He seemed unaware of her perusal of him, and lifted the tunic over his head, displaying rippling muscles and a sculpted chest that looked as if an expert mason had chiseled it from stone. Her eyes traced his torso, noting the soft light playing on his honey colored skin.
Then, as if he finally sensed her watching him, he looked up and locked eyes with her. Her mouth felt as dry as the wool blanket beneath her, and she swallowed with some difficulty. Turn around, she commanded herself. Leave him to his privacy. But she ignored the little voice, and fastened her eyes on to his perfectly formed body. The men that she had interacted with were fully dressed at all times; she had never been interested in what they looked like underneath their clothing. But with Derrik… She swallowed again. Suddenly, she felt an innate, overwhelming urge to reach out and touch his smooth skin, to feel his taut muscles, to run her hands down his hard abdomen.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Getting ready for bed,” he replied. Wearing only his braies, he stood casually facing her, his hands on his narrow hips, displaying his fine physique.
Unable to help it, her curious gaze wandered lower and settled on his undergarment.
She blushed. Even if she covered her eyes now, the image of his nearly naked body burned into her consciousness.
“Well,” he said softly, “do I meet with your inspection, my lady?”
If it was possible, her face burned even more. Her hands gripped the woolen blanket beneath her, fighting the urge to toss it over her head. How could she even respond to that question?
“I do not care what you look lik
e,” she lied, mustering all her strength to turn to her side, and present him with her back once again.
He chuckled at her response.
Amelie cringed at the sound but refused to look over her shoulder. “I would appreciate it if you would put your clothes back on,” she said to the wall.
“I’m not comfortable sleeping in my clothes.”
“Well I am not comfortable with seeing you naked.”
“You haven’t seen me naked, but I can show you if you like,” he said cheerfully.
She fought the insistent need to turn around and glare at him, to show him how impossible he was. But she didn’t dare give into that urge, knowing full well that if she saw him, she might not be able to look away again.
It seemed as if long minutes had passed and then suddenly she felt the bed shift.
The breath caught in her throat and her heart stopped beating.
“Derrik,” she said slowly. She turned her head, praying that she imagined the movement, but her worst fears were confirmed. “You do not intend to sleep here, do you?”
“There is only one bed in this room, where else would I sleep?”
“But we had an agreement,” her voice sounded choked. “You agreed that you would sleep on the floor.”
“As I recall, you made that suggestion. However I don’t remember agreeing to it.”
Amelie opened her mouth to argue with him, but she couldn’t refute his words. Searching frantically for an excuse and finding one, she blurted out, “Surely you see that ‘tis improper. We are not married.”
He raised his arms above his head and stretched. “We arrived here posing as husband and wife, remember?” He yawned. Settling more deeply into the mattress, he let out a contented sigh. “As far as the inn keeper and his wife are concerned, we are a happily married couple. And besides nothing will happen between us.” His heated gaze roved over her and settled on her breasts. “Unless you want something to occur?”
A Knight's Duty (The Knights of Honor Trilogy, Book 2) Page 12