Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Madeline Martin

  The hood of Ralph’s cloak slipped back from his head a little as he let go of her hand and lifted his head, his face flustered and weary. He pulled the hood of his cloak to cover his head again, but not before Gwen had briefly glimpsed the scars on one side of his face.

  ‘Ralph?’ She reached out her arm, but he stepped back and inclined his head briskly.

  ‘I will honour my oath to you. Now I must get back. Until later, my lady.’

  And with that, he vanished just as quickly as he had appeared.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ralph de Kinnerton had not just been hiding beneath his scallop-edged, hooded cloak in an attempt to conceal his identity, as Gwen had believed. No, he had been concealing far more than she could ever have imagined.

  Lord above, but his hand, his face! What in heaven’s name had happened to him? She had hoped that the reaction he had seen on her face had been one of empathy and not pity. However, there had been no conceivable way for Gwen to have concealed the surprise and shock she felt after feeling his hands grasping hers and the flash of the scars beneath his hood.

  She could only imagine what Ralph had endured. What her desire to protect him had led to.

  ‘I believe that you have made the right choice, Gwen.’ Brida glanced in her direction as she continued to put all their possessions back in the chamber, as before. ‘I am glad that I can say that freely now.’

  ‘You were before. And I hope you’re right, but only time will tell.’ She sighed. ‘And at least we shall now have Ralph de Kinnerton’s escort when we eventually depart. Which will, God willing, relieve the worry of any possible danger en route.’

  Brida stopped and turned her head. ‘So, you still mean to go the convent of St Mary de Hogge?’

  It had been through Isabel, Countess of Pembroke and wife of the late William Marshal, that Gwen had been given this lifeline. This small salvation to travel to a remote convent founded by the Countess’s grandfather, in Leinster, Ireland, where no one would ever think to find her.

  ‘After everything that has happened, there can be no other choice, as you know. And I am resigned to my fate. But what of you, Brida? Have you changed your mind about accompanying me? I had always believed that you’d wanted to get back home to Ireland?’ Gwen continued to unpack her belongings, such as they were.

  ‘No, my lady, I have not changed my mind. I thought that possibly you might have after meeting with...?’

  ‘Of course not. I have no other option, Brida, and I am not naive enough to believe that my situation could change, now or ever. And the knowledge that Ralph is alive, when we believed the worst, makes the huge sacrifice that I took all those years ago even more worthwhile.’

  ‘You’re an admirable woman, Gwen,’ she said gently. ‘Not many would have had the courage to have done what you did.’

  Oh, dear, she wasn’t going to cry.

  Gwen abruptly brushed away the tears that had fallen on to her cheeks at her friend’s words and stared at her hands. The truth was that although the bargain she had made with Stephen le Gros six years ago had been one of the most difficult in her life, she would do it a thousand times again. It had not been for naught, as she had previously believed, since Ralph had managed to get away safely with the time she’d purchased. But it had left devastating consequences for her in its wake.

  Gwen sat down on the edge of the soft pallet bed and smoothed away the crease in her brows, suddenly feeling a little weary. ‘Nothing has changed beside the fact that we shall remain here longer than we had originally planned.’

  After the nervous energy and the anticipation of leaving court, Castle Pulverbatch and this tournament, she was beginning to feel the strain of the day.

  ‘We’ll need to remain vigilant, Gwen. Far more than before.’

  True, nothing had really changed, with Gwen’s future just as precarious as before, but at least she now had Ralph’s assistance and support.

  Ralph...

  She suddenly had a need to convey her thanks again to him and, more importantly, to find out more about the nature of his injuries.

  ‘Come, allow me to help you out of those clothes, Gwen. You’ll feel more like yourself after a wash and once you’re back to wearing your own clothes.’

  ‘Thank you but, no.’ She stood up. ‘There’s something I need to do...that I must do before I can feel anything remotely like myself.’

  ‘You’re going out like that, dressed as a squire...in the middle of the day?’

  ‘I am.’ Gwen smiled at her friend. ‘Apparently many do, in these parts.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No, stay, I shall return soon.’

  Gwen stopped by the wooden arched door as Brida called out to her, ‘Be careful, my lady.’

  She nodded at her friend and pulled her hooded cloak over her head before leaving the chamber.

  * * *

  Gwen enjoyed the relative freedom and sense of anonymity she had acquired while posing, briefly, as a squire. It was quite liberating passing through the inner bailey and gatehouse without anyone’s notice. She had even passed Stephen le Gros, who was coming back into the castle with one of his men, but, with her head bent low and hood covering her head, he had not even looked her way.

  Letting out the breath that she had been holding, Gwen continued to stroll towards the furthest corner of the practice area, occupied by the de Clancey knights, trying her best to remain inconspicuous. Here on the edges of the clearing, red tents were dotted around, housing knights, with the largest red tent reserved for Lord and Lady de Clancey.

  A sudden incongruous noise caught her off guard. Gwen snapped her attention in the direction of the two largest tents, curious to find the source of the sound of a young child giggling and a dog barking playfully. The noise intrigued her and was so out of place in an area held for the clatter and bluster of knights’ combat practice. Her lips quirked upwards at the scene that greeted her when she made her way around the corner of the two largest tents.

  A young boy, who looked to be no more than five years old, seemed to be teasing a little black and white dog by holding a wooden stick out of its reach. The dog wagged his tail as the boy made it sit before pretending to throw the stick some distance.

  Gwen chuckled as the dog chased the stick that had not actually been thrown. The young lad turned in her direction at the sound of her laughter and stepped back with a look of uncertainty on his face.

  ‘Please do not be alarmed, it’s quite all right,’ she muttered and pushed back her hood a little, so that he could see her face.

  He blinked as he continued to look at her up and down, before sucking his thumb and nodding at her. ‘You are a girl?’

  ‘Yes, I... I am.’ She realised how ridiculous she must look to a young boy dressed as she was. ‘But these are not my usual clothes.’

  ‘Don’t worry, my mother likes to dress as a boy—a lot.’ He suddenly looked up at her and frowned. ‘You won’t tell anyone though, will you? Papa says it is our secret.’

  ‘I swear on the holy saints that I won’t. You have my promise.’

  He continued to watch her with his big green eyes and then smiled, as two big dimples popped out in his rosy cheeks. ‘I’m William Tallany.’

  She chuckled and made a deep curtsy. ‘Happy to make your acquaintance, young sir. I’m Gwenllian ferch Hywel of Clwyd.’

  ‘That is a very long name.’

  ‘I suppose it is. I am originally from Wales, but I have lived here in England for a long time. Call me Gwen, William Tallany.’

  ‘Very well.’ He sucked his thumb and bowed his head. ‘Do you want to play with me, Gwen? I only have Perdu, here, to play with,’ he said, stroking his fur.

  ‘Your dog is friendly.’ Gwen knelt down and scratched the little dog’s belly.

  ‘Oh, he’s not my dog, but Isabel’s. Do you
know her? She’s very nice and gives me lots of honey cakes.’

  Ah, he must mean Lady Isabel de Clancey. ‘Honey cakes are my favourite, too. Tell me, William, why are you alone with just Perdy for company?’

  ‘It’s Perdu. Well, the truth is...’ he shuffled his feet in the grass ‘...that I might have played a little, tiny trick on Brunhilde, she’s my nursemaid—not that I need one now—and she has to lie down because I “sasperate” her. Isabel said I could watch the knights with her because one day I’ll need to be as good as Uncle Will and my papa, but then I forgot about the secret, so now I’m here with Perdu for company.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ she muttered, not completely following his tale.

  ‘Do you like to dress like a boy, Gwen?’

  ‘Not quite. I am pretending, you see, to be someone that I am not.’

  He nodded, his dark curls bouncing around his plump cheeks. ‘Yes.’ He pulled a face, moved a little closer and whispered behind his hand, ‘Everyone here is pretending, lots and lots. That’s why I’m here and not there watching the knights.’

  Gwen sunk her teeth into her bottom lip in the hope to stop from laughing. ‘Did you do something terribly bad?’

  He nodded again and pursed his lips. ‘I shouted something I shouldn’t have because it’s a big secret,’ he muttered in hushed tones. ‘But it was only because I was excited that Ralph was winning. I forgot, you see.’

  ‘I do see...and I can understand that it is not so easy when you have to remember so many secrets. But you know, William Tallany, it might be best to heed their advice since you would not want to betray a confidence.’

  ‘I know and that is what Isabel and Uncle Will said. So now I have to play here because they think I might give away more secrets. Which I won’t. I promised and everything.’

  She felt a little sorry for the little boy. ‘I am sure that it was an accident and that you have learnt your lesson now.’

  ‘I really have, Gwen. I’m really, really actually good at keeping secrets,’ he said, kicking a stone. ‘I won’t tell anyone that you like dressing up like a boy,’ he assured her.

  She was touched at how earnest the child was. ‘Thank you, young sir. I am indebted to you.’

  ‘And you’ll keep my secret, too? You won’t tell anyone about my friends, Ralph and Tom?’

  ‘I promise.’ She bent low and whispered in his ear, ‘I’ll let you into another one of my own. Ralph is also my friend.’

  ‘Is he? No one told me that. Have you seen his scars? I’d want some just like his when I’m older. It would make me a lot more f’rocious.’ He looked behind her and beamed. ‘Isabel, this is my new friend, Gwen...’ He looked up at her. ‘Oh, I’ve forgotten the rest of your name.’

  Gwen lifted her head and met the curious gaze of Lady Isabel de Clancey. ‘My lady.’ She curtsied, feeling awkward at being found having a conversation with the young William Tallany on her own and being dressed as she was. Isabel, however, smiled warmly and returned her formal acknowledgment.

  ‘Lady Gwenllian ferch Hywel, I am very happy to make your acquaintance.’ She held out her hand to the little boy. ‘I came in search of you as your mother and I had wondered whether you might be hungry, William?’

  ‘I am very, very hungry.’ He skipped along with the dog jumping at his heels. ‘Can Gwen come?’

  ‘Oh, no, I would not want to inconvenience anyone.’

  ‘Not at all, I would be delighted for a friend of... William’s to join us for a light repast.’ Lady Isabel smiled.

  ‘In that case, it would be my pleasure, my lady.’

  ‘Please,’ she shook her head ‘...we do not stand on any formalities here. Call me Isabel.’

  ‘Thank you and I am... Gwen.’

  * * *

  They had tucked into delicious rounds of cheese, sliced ham and chicken and dried fruits, washed down with a spiced wine, watered down so that young William could also partake in slurping it inside the tent that Isabel de Clancey shared with her husband. Gwen watched in fascination at the rapport and friendship between Eleanor Tallany and Isabel, whom were both quite different from the usual ladies at court. She couldn’t help but warm to both women, as they insisted she accompanied them to watch the rest of the combat practice.

  ‘Now, William, you will remember this time that you cannot shout Ralph’s name, as you did before,’ Eleanor Tallany admonished her young son as she passed her infant daughter to the nursemaid.

  ‘I promise, Mama.’ He raised his hand. ‘I swear on the holy saints.’

  The women laughed as Gwen flushed, knowing where he’d heard the phrase just moments ago.

  ‘I’m sure you shall.’ Isabel also relinquished her young babe to the older woman, muttering a few words to her before opening the entrance to the tent. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Come on, Gwen.’ William sidled up to her, pulling her by the hand. ‘I have another secret. See Isabel’s baby over there?’ He pulled a disgusted face. ‘My papa has told me that one day, when I am grown, I might become betrothed to her. Can you imagine anything so dreadful as being married?’

  She smiled, surprised that a small lump had formed in her throat. ‘I can only imagine, although she won’t always be so little, you know.’

  ‘Well, I won’t do it.’ He shook his head, his curls bouncing around his head. ‘I’m going to be a famous knight instead. The best and the fiercest.’

  ‘I am sure you shall, William Tallany. I am sure you shall.’

  Gwen wondered, too late, whether it had been prudent for her to have sought Ralph, even though she was dressed inconspicuously. She felt self-conscious standing among his friends, who were naturally curious about her, especially Lady Isabel.

  She chewed her lips, knowing that Ralph had also realised her presence despite being immersed in the middle of combat training. He’d looked in their direction a few times and the manner of his stance revealed that he was unsettled that Gwen was there and had made herself known to his friends.

  Even so, regardless of her curiosity, she needed to speak with him and establish their bargain now that he had pledged to escort her to the convent in Ireland, once the tournament was over. It had certainly nothing to do with the pull of awareness she felt prickle through her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gwen watched as Ralph stormed off in disappointment at his performance which had seemed a little flat and disengaged. And she hoped it had not been because she had been watching alongside his friends. She waited a while before taking her leave from the ladies and young William, whom she had promised to visit another day.

  Gwen pulled her hood over her head and walked over to the tent she now knew Ralph shared with Sir Thomas and waited outside for a moment to gather her nerves and calm her beating heart. Taking a deep breath before pulling the fabric opening to one side, she walked in.

  She stopped abruptly and blinked several times at the sight before her. Her mouth went suddenly dry as she gazed at Ralph’s sinuous back, broad shoulders, and large muscular arms still holding his weapon. Apart from the braies and hose covering his honed legs, he was very naked from the waist upwards.

  ‘God above, I know it. I know exactly what you’re going to say,’ he said, shaking his head, evidently having heard her enter. ‘But let’s not get into it now, Tom.’

  Mayhap she should come back another time. Gwen’s legs finally caught up with her head and she moved to leave, just when Ralph turned around.

  ‘Gwen?’ He stood to his full height, frowning at her. ‘I thought you were Tom. What are you doing here?’

  That was a very good question. At that moment, Gwen had neither an answer nor a voice to explain herself, so she sank her teeth into her bottom lip and swallowed in discomfort.

  ‘Well?’ He raised his brow, waiting as she looked him up and down. Ralph’s back might have been impressive, but the rippled corded muscl
es of his chest, with the smattering of dark hair that ran down to his belly button, disappearing under his hose, made Gwen blush, furiously. She averted her gaze, but not before she had noticed his sun-kissed skin wet with moisture and glistening from being washed down or sweating or...

  Oh, God, how mortifying.

  She realised far too late that this was the first time she had properly seen Ralph since they were young. Of course, Gwen had been aware of the changes in him, from the moment she knew that he was alive, but she had only glanced at Ralph from afar or from snatched moments when he had lurked in shadows. Until this moment even his scarred face, arm and hand had been hidden beneath hoods and the many layers of clothing.

  Well, not any more.

  And nothing...nothing could have prepared her for this raw masculinity. Apart from the scars it had been his lean sharp features, the strong angular jawline with the days’ worth of stubble and tousled dark brown hair. She looked up and met his dark eyes. He was still waiting for her to respond as he put his hands on his hips. Yet she did not know what to say.

  So Ralph spoke instead. ‘I suppose you can now see what I have also been trying to hide.’

  Gwen tried not to dwell on the lasting image of his magnificently honed body which had greeted her only moments ago. Yet it was difficult to think about anything else.

  ‘As well as concealing that you were still alive,’ she managed to say.

  ‘Yes...’ he nodded ‘...that, too.’

  Gwen could feel her face becoming hotter still and knew she should look away, but her eyes were drawn back to him every time she tried to glance elsewhere. Oh, for goodness sake, this was Ralph. And just because he wasn’t fully dressed, she should hardly be reacting in this way.

  ‘I had better put on a tunic,’ he drawled eventually, with a ghost of a smile. ‘I would not want my dishabille to distress you.’