“Nay,” she muttered to herself. She bunched her fists at her sides. “I refuse to believe this. ‘Tis likely the other way around.”
A small rustling sound, almost indefinable, caught her ear, and the hairs at the back of her neck suddenly rose. What was that? She cautiously looked all around her.
When no other sound followed, Amelie let out her breath in a rush, not realizing until now that she held it. She brushed at her arms, trying to rub away the gooseflesh that appeared there. It was just another cat. She didn’t know why she was so jumpy. Most likely she was growing used to having Derrik at her side, and being away from him made her uneasy.
Except through all her reassurances, her uneasiness increased. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone watched her. Her mind flashed to the ominous warnings that Margery ingrained in her head, remembering all too well the perils that faced unprotected women. There were all kinds of petty criminals and outlaws that could be lurking about. And none of them would have any qualms about killing a woman, no matter who she was.
“’Tis nonsense,” she said under her breath. “They are just stories Margery told to intimidate me.”
She placed her fingertips to her temples and began to circle the spots. The lack of sleep was truly getting to her, she decided. Her mind was too active and sensitive to the slightest sounds, and she was starting to hallucinate. But even as she told herself this, she wasn’t fully convinced, because it was as clear as the morning sky that some menace lurked nearby. And then as her mind recalled Ester’s warning and the attacker who ambushed her at the Healer’s cottage, a new fear began to take hold. Suddenly she realized that leaving Derrik’s side wasn’t the most sensible thing to do, especially in a village where no one knew her.
Amelie made her way quickly to the fenced off stable area. Being in Derrik’s presence was definitely preferable to this eerie sensation she now experienced.
She almost made it past the hay stacks when she saw a shadowy movement. Turning her head quickly, she prayed that it was only the trick of the morning sun. And as she glanced over at the stable, she could hear Derrik’s baritone voice coming from within. Relief washed over her; Derrik was close at hand.
But her relief was short-lived. All of a sudden there was another movement, and this time there was no mistaking what it was.
With her heart in her throat, she turned to run back to the safety of the stable, but a man jumped out from behind the hay bushel, and jerked her forcefully back as if she was a mere cloth doll.
Amelie let out a startled cry just before the man’s hand clamped over her mouth. Nay, she thought frantically. This couldn’t be happening to her yet again!
***
Derrik frowned and looked over at his courser just as the horse’s ears perked at a strange muffled cry. He whipped his head over to the open door.
“I heard something,” the stable boy said, his face ashen.
Derrik looked over beside him. “Where is —?” he stopped short. The scowl on his face deepened as he quickly scanned all around. And when he couldn’t locate Amelie, he closed his eyes briefly, his worst fears confirmed. “Of all the idiotic things!” he cried. The woman had a knack for getting into trouble, he thought furiously. As soon as he turned his back, she was gone. No doubt she was the one who cried out just now.
As he let out a string of explosive curses, he sprinted for the exit. Then, bursting out into the small yard, he startled a half-dozen geese, and scattered them in every direction.
Amelie was nowhere to be seen. He ran through the open gate and around to the front of the inn. With fear and fury raging in his heart, he leaned on the wall of the building to catch his breath. When he looked down the dirt road, it was just in time to see a man — the same man who he beat up last night — leading Amelie away on a horse. Derrik pushed away from the wall. “Amelie!” he called out.
But she didn’t hear him. They were almost at the end of the road when they abruptly turned a corner. As far as he could see, no houses existed on the route that they took.
He cursed again. They were far enough away that even if he ran, he wouldn’t be able to catch up to them. He needed a horse.
“Where is he taking her, sire?” the boy said breathlessly at his side.
“I wish I knew,” he said, his hands curling into tight fists. Now he regretted that he didn’t cause more damage to the man. At least if he had, then the man would not be in any condition to lure Amelie away.
He slowly unclenched his fists. What was it about Amelie that made her ignore his counsel, and fall heedlessly into danger at every turn? He should just return to the Royal Palace, and present his findings to King Edward. But even as that idea cropped up in his mind, he knew he couldn’t just leave her. He couldn’t forget the muffled scream that he heard. Amelie would not have cried out if she was only greeting a friend, would she? And from her reaction last night, it didn’t appear that she knew her attacker.
From all appearances, Amelie left with the stranger out of her own free will. But if she was somehow tricked in leaving with the man, then she was in danger. And if anything were to happen to her, he would never forgive himself.
“Bring me my horse,” Derrik snapped. “And be quick about it.”
Chapter 22
The muscle in Derrik’s jaw twitched when he had them within his sights. He took his time to study the other man. He was of average height with a slender build that indicated that he had no combat capabilities. Judging by his worn tunic, he was either a simple villager or a farmer. The bandage that covered his head earlier was gone, revealing the square face of a man in his late thirties.
They were following the stream, so the sound of rushing water muffled any sound that Derrik and his horse made. The other man was very poor at covering his tracks, although he looked behind him several times as if to see if anyone followed them. After a time, he was satisfied that they were alone, and he relaxed visibly, slowing down the pace of his mount. He began to do most of the talking while Amelie remained quiet, showing no signs that she wanted to part company with her kidnapper.
A short while later, the square-faced man pointed to an area beside the stream. They stopped and got off their mounts. The man tied both horses to a nearby tree before returning to Amelie with a small sack in his hand.
Dismounting from his own steed, Derrik tied it securely to a sturdy tree before inching closer to the small camp site.
His shoulders tensed when he heard a rustling noise over to his right. Grasping the hilt of his broadsword, he was ready to slash at whoever hid there. But after staring intently at the spot for a moment and hearing the noise again, his hand fell away from the hilt. It was only a rodent.
He crouched lower and continued to crawl through the tangle of bushes. Then when he was several paces away, he slowly parted the shrubs to get a clear view of the site. Narrowing his eyes, he scrutinized the figure that sat a little too close to Amelie. He couldn’t make out what they said, but it appeared that the other man had quite a lot to disclose. Amelie didn’t offer much to the conversation except to continue listening intently to what he imparted.
Derrik puzzled over why they stopped so soon. They were only half an hour away from the village, and it was too early to rest. What were they waiting for?
Soon enough he discovered that he was wrong. They were taking a rest. The man indicated to the ground, and the two of them began to gather a small cluster of dried twigs, brush and stones to create a cooking fire. He seemed well equipped, because as he dumped out the contents of his sack, Derrik caught sight of a number of items: a pewter pot, a leather flask and another small bag. Taking the pot over to the fire, the man poured the liquid from the flask, and dumped in what looked like dried meat pieces from the small bag.
A companionable silence fell between them. What exactly was Amelie doing with this man? It didn’t make any sense. Now as Derrik watched their interaction, he confirmed that Amelie was not coerced into leaving with this man. Suddenly an old,
long forgotten emotion emerged. He was such a fool. Amelie must have laughed at his expense when he fell into a rage, trying to protect her honor.
But his turbulent thoughts calmed down slightly when he observed that no flirtation existed between them; there was no indication that they shared an intimate relationship.
He should just complete his investigation, go back to the royal court, and forget that he ever met Amelie. But unfortunately he couldn’t bring himself to return to his horse and ride away just yet. Amelie had a penchant for finding trouble and putting herself in dangerous situations. And for some absurd reason, he felt compelled to rescue her and see her safe. At the same time, he had an urge to strangle her for her reckless ways. His mood darkened as he watched them eat their stew. He had better things to do than hide among bushes, he thought in disgust. He made a move to crawl out from his hiding place. But just then, a rustling sounded behind him. And before Derrik could fully turn and dismiss it as another rodent, a man jumped out from the shrubs, and struck him hard across the head with a large stick.
“Help!” the man shouted, his stout face white with terror. He held the stick at shoulder height, his round shoulders heaving as if the exertion of attacking Derrik had winded him.
He groaned and cradled his head, wondering vaguely why this man shouted for help when it was clear that Derrik was the injured party. Bringing his hand down, he was surprised to see blood on his fingers. Normally he had all his bearings, but he was so focused on Amelie and the bald man that he didn’t even notice anyone creeping up from behind.
Running feet came from the other direction.
“Lester, what happ —?” The bald man stopped in his tracks, his jaw dropping.
Amelie came to stand next to him and gasped, “Sir Derrik!”
Lester tightened his grip on the stick, ready to swing it again. “I was on my way to meet you when I saw a courser tied to a tree. Thinking I should investigate, I came upon this brute.” His arms trembled. “Do you think we should tie him up? He looks dangerous.”
“We will not be tying anyone up,” Amelie knelt down beside Derrik. “Are you all right, sire?”
The concern he saw in her large brown eyes made him feel momentarily unsettled. He shook his head to free himself from the disconcerting sensation. Then touching his temples, he said, “After being bashed in the head, and developing a bump the size of an egg? Nay, of course I’m not all right.”
“Is that all you have? A bump on your head? No broken bones?”
Derrik slowly shook his head.
“Then I suppose you will survive,” Amelie said, leaning back on her heels. “Lester, help Sir Derrik up.”
Derrik glared at his attacker, and the man took a frightened step back.
“I don’t need help.” Grabbing onto the tree trunk next to him, he pulled himself up. He looked over at Amelie. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were leaving the stable?”
“I forgot,” she said, flushing and a guilty expression stole over her pretty face.
“Forgot?” Derrik repeated, his eyebrows rising. “How could you have forgotten to tell me that you were going off with a stranger? I thought that he lured you away. ‘Twas not that long ago that someone attacked you, or have you forgotten that as well?”
If it was at all possible, her face became even more flushed. “Alfred,” she nodded at the bald man, “told me that he knew where my father was,” she said, as if that statement explained everything, and there was nothing more to add.
“And so you decided to go with him,” Derrik said slowly. “Of all the —”
“I am sure that you would have done the same.”
“How do you know these people?” Derrik glanced over at the two nervous looking men.
“I do not.”
He gave a disbelieving shake to his head. But before he could say anything more, Alfred spoke up. “I know Lady Amelie, sire.”
He turned his cool gaze over to Alfred and the man cringed.
“I overheard that Lady Amelie was looking for her father,” the middle-aged man said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “And since I knew where he was, I offered to take her there.”
“Why didn’t you reveal this at the beginning, when we were at the inn?”
“While I know Lady Amelie by sight, I wasn’t sure who you were, sire.” He gulped. “You claimed that she was your wife, but I know this to be impossible since Lady Amelie is unmarried. And,” he continued in a hesitant voice, “it appeared that she didn’t want to be in your company.”
Derrik made a sound of disgust. “So you were acting the hero, and decided to throw ale on my face.”
“’T — twas an accident,” he said helplessly. “I didn’t mean to do it, I’m sorry.”
“He thought you were a spy,” the man’s friend offered.
The bald man glanced over at Lester, and frowned at him before turning back to Derrik. “Aye, for some reason I had thought you were a spy, but Lady Amelie has since assured me that you’re trustworthy.”
Derrik looked over at Amelie, but she was staring at the ground, her expression pensive. He flicked his wrists, dismissing the other man’s words. From speaking with Alfred, he now saw that the man was harmless. “Where is Lord Stanbury then? Will you take me to him?”
“I don’t know —”
“Aye,” Amelie said, raising her eyes to Derrik. “Alfred and Lester will be taking me to my father, however you may come along.”
Chapter 23
Humming a new tune that the minstrel played at last night’s supper, Clarisse made her way toward the kitchen.
At first she eagerly awaited Amelie’s return, but as the long hours passed, her eagerness abated. She was tired of being confined to either the solar or Lady Edeline’s bedchamber. And without her cousin here, things at Stanbury Castle were starting to get rather dull.
When Lady Edeline requested sweetmeats, Clarisse jumped at the opportunity to fetch the treats. She supposed that she could have sent a servant to get the items, but she wanted to get away from the dreary bedchamber, at least for a short while.
To justify her decision further, she thought about sparing the poor servant and the kitchen staff some trouble. The cook hated to be bothered at any time, and if she sent a servant down to get the sweetmeats, he would likely give the servant and the kitchen help a hard time. At least if she went down herself, he wouldn’t be so vocal in his complaints.
And then there was the matter of her brother Geoffrey. He was supposed to arrive today, yet there was still no sign of him…
The rest of her thoughts trailed away as she heard the familiar voice of Amelie’s nursemaid echoing just around the corner. She furrowed her brows in confusion. Unless it was meal time, the hallway to the kitchen was usually deserted. There was no reason for Margery to be near the cooking area. Unless she was there to meet with someone in private.
Clarisse paused, wrestling with curiosity and indecision. Margery showed respect and civility only toward Amelie, the lord and lady of the castle, and their equals. All others, she gave her contempt. At this moment, Clarisse wasn’t particularly interested in being subjected to Margery’s dark, condescending looks. Retracing her steps, she hurried to the pantry that she passed earlier. Then slipping inside, she allowed the darkness to envelop her.
She stuck out her hands, feeling around until she came in contact with a coarse material. Blinking rapidly, she tried to get her eyes to adjust quickly to the black surroundings. And when they did, she saw that the small room was crammed with ten sacks of grains and four large barrels of other foodstuff. With hundreds of people to feed, the pantry had to be well stocked. She squeezed through the narrow space, and hunched down among the sacks.
But her quick invasion caused mice to scatter from their hiding places, and she shuddered as the sounds faded to the other side of the small room. This wasn’t a time to be squeamish, she told herself sternly.
Moments later, Margery and her companion rounded the corner.
Clarisse held her breath as the nurse maid’s voice drifted into the small enclosure.
Margery’s voice was low, sultry and sounded altogether different from the usual way she spoke. Clarisse was almost tempted to peek out and see if it really was Amelie’s nursemaid speaking. It surprised her actually. She was so used to Margery’s presence in the solar that she never considered the woman to have any outside interests. Or lovers.
The footsteps out in the hall sounded louder now, and with each step, Clarisse’s heart sped faster. The pounding was so loud that she feared that Margery and her companion would hear it.
Holding her hands tightly to her chest, she half prayed that they would simply pass by, and not turn their heads to look inside the pantry. The pantry was small with no door, and if they were to take just one step into the enclosure, they would see her immediately.
She pressed her back against the grain sacks as her thoughts took on a turn for the worse. What would they do to her if they found her spying on them? She cursed herself for acting so impulsively. If anything, she should have just continued walking toward the kitchen, or even turning back toward the bedchambers. And then she definitely wouldn’t be here, hiding in this uncomfortable spot, waiting for them to leave. Unfortunately there was nothing that she could do about it now.
“I have missed you, Your Grace,” Margery said, her voice sounding strong and clear.
Your Grace? Clarisse tilted her head and leaned closer to the doorway. She felt a prickling, crawling sensation on her skin. Did she hear Margery correctly?
“It has been a long time, has it not?” a masculine voice murmured.
A gasp formed in her throat, and she had just enough wits about her to clamp a hand over her mouth. She didn’t have to think very hard to know who it was that spoke, for there was no mistaking that voice. Roldan de Calmette’s soft, monotonous voice was unmistakable, and echoed eerily in her dreams at times. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, her body suddenly feeling cold and clammy.
A Knight's Duty (The Knights of Honor Trilogy, Book 2) Page 15