One Knight Only Page 12

  But he wouldn’t abuse her trust. With both hands he held her breasts, stroked and petted them, while he worshiped her mouth with his. She made the most tempting sounds deep in her throat, as she restlessly moved her hips against his.

  Anne was lost in a world of heat and temptation, and Philip was the center of it all. She was overcome by her desire for him, thrilled to know he shared it. She cared not where it led her, only that he go with her.

  His hands on her breasts stroked a fire inside her that spread into the depths of her stomach, and even lower, until between her thighs grew a fierce ache that she did not know how to appease. He had brought her here before, to this place of hunger, and she’d never seen how it could end. His mouth left hers and he pressed a kiss behind her ear, and another where her neck and shoulder met. One of his hands skimmed down her waist and over her hip. With a tug he lifted her thigh. Though her skirts pulled tight, restricting him, she felt him press between her legs, a roll of his hips that made her groan her approval. She wanted him to stroke her there, to quench this fire.

  But he suddenly lifted his head, his face harsh with passion in the growing darkness. “This isn’t what you want,” he said, breathing heavily.

  Anger stormed over her, and she pulled her leg from his grasp. “You don’t know what I want. You never did.”

  To her shock, her plans to find a way into the League almost spilled from her lips. Why would she think she could confide in him?

  He slid his arms around her back and held her loosely, with no threat, no promise of more. “You won’t believe me,” he said, “but I didn’t mean this to happen again. I came here to protect you, and instead I continued where that foolish boy left off.”

  She stepped away from him, away from the statue that rose over them so impassively. It did not condemn her, and she couldn’t condemn herself. She wanted membership in the League, but what else did she want?

  To be like Lady Rosamond? To be the woman men were attracted so desperately to, and to know she could return their passion with her own? She had never known the power of wealth and beauty, and how easily it could change a woman’s life.

  Maybe she was changing too much. Did she want to be like Lady Rosamond for herself—or for Philip? Or for her parents, who’d taken advantage of her? Did her motives even matter? She was changing so much, doing things she would never have imagined just a few short months ago.

  “Talk to me, Countess,” he whispered.

  Was she testing him? Using him to see if Lady Rosamond was the sort of woman she should become? She had no one but herself to please, no future except what she could fashion for herself, here with the League. She wanted their excitement and danger, to know she was helping an important endeavor. She wanted them to keep needing her help—and if that meant becoming as bold as Lady Rosamond, then she would do so.

  With a sigh, she faced Philip, who waited quietly, watching her. Was he expecting a transformation? Though she’d decided to change, somehow his wanting it hurt her.

  “I do not know what the moonlight has done to me tonight,” she said lightly. “We should return to the party in my honor.”

  He opened his mouth, and then seemed to rethink whatever he had first meant to say. “It is only the moon affecting you?”

  She gave a throaty laugh, stared at him out of the corner of her eye. “But you want it to be only you?”

  He studied her as if she puzzled him, and suddenly she didn’t want the scrutiny. She turned her back and began to wind her way through the garden, knowing he followed. Would he keep following wherever she led, whatever she did?

  And follow her he did, even though she thought she could escape. When she returned to the great hall, she saw Lord Egmanton talking to his steward, Sir Daniel, and then the two of them ducked down a corridor. What was he up to at this time of night? Surely the castle business was through for the day.

  Anne glanced behind her to see that Philip had stopped to talk to the other Bladesmen. She was still on the fringe of the castle residents, who milled about the hall as the trestle tables were taken down. It didn’t take much for her to slip amongst them, hiding herself in plain sight, and then follow Lord Egmanton. This was another opportunity for her to prove herself to Sir Walter.

  The corridor was dark, but for the occasional pool of torchlight. As the music and voices faded behind her, she could hear the echoing steps of the men ahead of her, so it was not difficult to follow them. But she couldn’t quite hear what they said. She was grateful that her own slippers allowed her to walk softly, undetected.

  Ahead of her, Lord Egmanton and his steward reached a corner and turned. She stopped, peeking around the rough, damp edge of the stone wall, and saw the two of them open a door. They stepped through, but she thought they did not quite close it behind them. She’d probably be able to hear them if she—

  From behind, a man clasped his arm around her waist, pinning her arms against her as he covered her mouth. He propelled her forward, across the corridor and into the darkness of the circular stairwell.

  “Be quiet,” he hissed into her ear.

  She recognized Philip almost immediately, but still her heart raced, and she breathed frantically through her nose. He didn’t let her go, only leaned against the wall and pulled her back to his chest.

  She heard Lord Egmanton’s voice growing louder as he came back down the corridor, and she stopped struggling. If Philip hadn’t gotten her out of the way, she’d have been discovered. But what if he came into the stairwell?

  “Mother is impossible!” Lord Egmanton said with fury. “She even called me in to the great hall just now, and then denied doing it! She is determined that I not marry Lady Rosamond.”

  By the end of his speech, Anne could hear his voice quite clearly. He must have stopped right next to the stairwell.

  “My lord, she is only looking out for your interests,” said Sir Daniel.

  Philip’s arm around her waist felt warm and hard, so powerful that he could easily hold her immobile. His strength made her feel languid and hot, burning away her resistance. His hand on her mouth was so large he could have spanned her face. With her backside pressed against his hips, she grew even more heated, feeling the long, hard evidence of his erection nestled between her cheeks. Her garments were fine and thin, not much protection between them. She felt his breath, hot against her neck.

  “I was alone with Lady Rosamond,” Lord Egmanton whined. “Somehow I have to manage it again.”

  Philip held her trapped, and she should have felt frustrated and angry; instead a rush of excitement swept through her. They might be discovered at any moment, and the danger only seemed to make her fearless and wild. She couldn’t move her arms, but she could move her hips. She rubbed against him, and heard his breathing cut off in a gasp. What they had started in the garden hadn’t gone away, had only slumbered, waiting for fuel to toss on the flames.

  Sir Daniel said, “What if you take her on a hunting trip tomorrow? You know your mother would never attend that.”

  She felt Philip’s open mouth on her neck, even as he rubbed against her, hard. She bit back a moan, closing her eyes, then shuddered as she felt his teeth scrape her skin. His hand left her mouth and slid downward, and then the other joined it, cupping her breasts. She leaned into his hands, which only pushed her hips harder into his. He rocked into her, playing with her nipples, shooting arrows of desire through her body with each stroke. In the heat of passion, she was losing herself in Lady Rosamond’s boldness, and needed more from him. She took one of his hands and slid it down her body.

  “A hunting party!” Lord Egmanton said, sounding like a little boy at Christmas. “Perfect!”

  Their footsteps faded away, but Anne didn’t care. Through her skirts, Philip cupped between her thighs, and a weak groan escaped her. His fingers slid slowly against her, pressing and circling, while his hand on her breast did the same. Inside her the fever writhed and fed on her helplessness. She was shuddering in his arms, and could not
control the sounds she was making. That made her realize that she could not allow herself to be caught like this. She flung herself away from him, falling against the curving stairs, trying to find the breath that heaved in her chest.

  He caught her arm, pressed his mouth against her ear, and whispered, “Do you want to find your chamber and finish this once and for all?”

  She turned onto her back, the stairs digging into her spine. Philip leaned over her, his expression harsh, but she knew it wasn’t anger, only the same desperation for completion that she felt.

  With a groan she staggered to her feet and pushed past him, halting in the entrance to the stairwell to make sure no one had come down the corridor. Over her shoulder, she said, “I didn’t want you on this journey in the first place. I knew you would be such a distraction!”

  There was a pause where she wondered if she had wounded him.

  “A distraction from what?” he demanded. “What did you think you were doing?”

  “Seeing if Lord Egmanton was more than he seemed!”

  “He seemed like a boy tied to his domineering mother, and that little speech proved it. You don’t think the Bladesmen can figure this out for themselves, without your help?”

  Chapter 11

  P hilip accepted her glare, because he knew she was defending herself against him, against the passion that erupted between them every time they were alone. A distraction, was he? She was the one who’d boldly rubbed against him. But it wouldn’t be wise to say so, not if he ever hoped to enjoy such a surprise again.

  For she surprised him in so many ways, and he wanted more. His body ached with need, and he could barely keep himself from pulling her back against him.

  When she would have headed back for the great hall, he caught her arm and dragged her the other way. “You shouldn’t go back there—it might look as if we deliberately wanted to be alone together. Before supper, I explored the castle. This way.”

  As he pulled her, she looked back over her shoulder. “But Sir Walter—”

  “If you cared what he thought, you wouldn’t have tried to escape him to follow Egmanton.”

  “I was trying to help!”

  “And I told him I thought that was your motive. I said I’d find you and make sure you avoided trouble.”

  “You are trouble!”

  “So are you, and you’ll be less so in your bedchamber. Now stop fighting me, before someone thinks I’m dragging you off to be seduced, instead of the other way around.”

  “Ooh!”

  But she didn’t get the chance to speak, because he was forced to release her as two pages carrying buckets of water came down the corridor toward them. Philip glanced over his shoulder to find her walking serenely behind him. He ignored the pages, but they smiled, bobbing their heads at her.

  He led her up a floor in another wing of the castle, and to her door. When she was safely inside—she’d clearly wanted to slam the door in his face, but had thought better of it—he went next door to the bedchamber he shared with Walter. He saw that the knights were there, preparing for the evening’s activities, which they still hadn’t invited him to attend yet. They were dressed in black, wearing mysterious pouches at their waists. He understood; he didn’t know their secret methods, and unless he was a member, they weren’t about to show him. Though he didn’t care about joining their League, he would always be curious about the skills they were trained in.

  “We will return within two hours,” Walter said. “Can you take a long shift, if need be?”

  “Of course, but why are you leaving now, so early?”

  “The soldiers will be distracted with people finding their beds. It will be easier to slip by them.”

  “Through a closed gatehouse?” Philip said, smiling.

  Walter only arched a brow and said nothing.

  As Philip backed out the door so they could pass, he sensed someone at Anne’s door. He thought at first that it was Margaret, but the maid wouldn’t be trying to be so inconspicuous. While the Bladesmen left him one way, he knew behind him that Anne was leaving the other.

  When the knights had turned a corner, Philip darted back the other way, chasing her. What was she thinking? She disappeared within the stairwell, and as he turned in, he saw the last of her skirts as she went up.

  Was she following the Bladesmen now?

  At the top of the keep itself, she went outside, to where wooden walkways linked the keep to the curtain wall. There were no torches, no soldiers at all, as far as Philip could see. Like many castles, they’d given up the strict need to be defensive.

  But the moon was full, lighting the night well enough for him to catch up to Anne where she hid within the shadow cast by a half-wall. When she saw him, she didn’t even seem surprised.

  He pressed his back against the wall beside her and whispered, “How many times must I follow you tonight?”

  She lifted her chin. “You’re just as curious as I am about how they’re leaving the castle. Now be quiet. I think they are on the far walkway.”

  Gritting his teeth, Philip sighted along the arm she pointed and saw figures in black as they crossed onto the battlements. Her eyesight was excellent; he might not have noticed them, so stealthily did they move, keeping to the shadows. The Bladesmen had chosen a rear corner of the curtain wall, out of sightline of either the main or postern gatehouse. Philip allowed Anne to creep closer, staying near in case she needed to be rescued from herself.

  It was plain they affixed ropes to a merlon, the high point between the lower embrasures, that rose in regular intervals along the battlements. Then one by one they went over the side of the wall and disappeared from sight.

  Climbing ropes. Hell, he could do that. He was almost disappointed.

  But Anne ran swiftly across the walkway, her skirts flying behind her. Philip followed, and joined her as she put her back against the merlon and looked at him with excitement, the moon sparkling in her eyes.

  “Do you think I can peer over now?” she asked.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Give them a while longer. The wall is high, and you don’t want them to see you before they reach the ground.”

  She breathed as swiftly as she did when she was moaning with passion in his arms. Feeling irritated, he said, “Why are you doing this? What does it matter how they protect you? Why follow Egmanton? Does it all tie together?”

  Ignoring him, she touched the rope behind her back. “The vibration is gone. The last one must be down.”

  With a jump, she landed chest-first across the embrasure, then wriggled forward over the thickness of the wall until she could just peer over the edge. Philip put a hand on her hip, feeling rather dizzy with her so close, and the wind picking up. It never bothered him when a fellow knight stood like this, ready to drop boiling oil on besiegers below.

  “What do you see?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, disappointment obvious in her voice.

  “They’re dressed in black.”

  She wriggled backward until she could drop back to her feet. With her hands on her hips, she frowned at him. “You don’t need to patronize me.”

  Under the moonlight, her eyes were dark shadows.

  “Then answer my questions,” he said. “What are you planning?”

  “To be invited to join the League permanently.”

  His eyes widened, and he saw her wince, as if she had not meant to tell him the truth.

  She held up a hand before he could speak. “You don’t have to tell me that there’s never been a Bladeswoman. Neither of us can know that for certain. But I’m good at this, Philip. I want to do this.”

  “And you think just proving your commitment is enough to these men?”

  Softly, she said, “I know it is not, or you would have been asked before now. But Philip, look how much you’ve helped them. Surely they will ask you now. Maybe they’ll ask us both.”

  He hesitated. “The League’s view of me no longer matters,” he finally said, his
tone mild.

  She looked confused. “At Alderley, you spoke of the League as if they were the pinnacle of knightly success. Elizabeth said you weren’t asked to join—”

  “So you thought you could drag me along with you, take up the cause?” He found himself amused rather than upset. “I have other things I’d rather do now, Lady Rosamond. Do not concern yourself with me. If you’re asked to join the League, think of the dangers you will face.”

  “Only once a year, for several weeks at a time,” she recited primly. “But I hope to convince them that I would gladly serve more.”

  “And what will you tell your husband?” He had a sudden image of her in another man’s arms, and he felt angry and jealous, two emotions he had no right to feel.

  “I’m not going to marry. I have more important things to do.”

  He gaped at her. “What woman doesn’t want to marry?”

  “A Bladeswoman.”

  How could he tell her that she’d fixated on something that probably wouldn’t happen? But it was not up to him to decide her life for her.

  Side by side, they looked out over the dark countryside. She had left her headdress in her bedchamber. He glanced at her, seeing her hair catch in the wind, dancing around her face. He would wait with her as long as she wanted, because he liked being alone with Anne, not Lady Rosamond. He turned back to the Nottinghamshire countryside, looking at trees touched by moonlight and the glistening of a stream in the distance.

  Suddenly she stiffened. “The rope is going taut.”

  They both backed away, sliding into the shadows cast by the moon. In a few minutes, David pulled himself up into the embrasure and dropped to the battlement walkway. The look on his face was so intense that Philip put a hand on Anne’s shoulder before she could speak. After David rummaged for something in the pouch at his waist, he pulled up the rope swiftly. With his back to them, they could not see what he was doing, but at last he dropped the rope back over the edge, then looked over for several moments. Then he climbed back up into the embrasure, held on to the rope, and seemed to drop from sight.