One Knight Only Page 16

  “Lord Hungerford and Sir Robert Ludlow, both of Northumberland, traveling to London for the king’s summons.”

  Philip narrowed his eyes as he studied Walter, then spoke in a low voice. “And others are summoned, which is why Lady Rosamond will be able to examine them all in London and prove so valuable to the king?”

  Walter nodded, then looked to the women. “Do either of you recognize these names?”

  Anne and Margaret exchanged a glance, and then both shook their heads.

  “I have heard of Sir Robert,” Philip offered. “He has made quite the name for himself as a man of honor, yet a skilled knight.”

  “And I have heard the same of Lord Hungerford,” Walter said. “We have no choice but to go in. I am counting on your good opinion of Lord Kelshall, Philip. Let all be attentive to our lady’s safety. Philip, please lead us.”

  Philip arched a brow, but said nothing. He had admitted to Walter his connection to the castle, and now his judgment was being used to assess Lord Kelshall. Philip could not believe his old master would ever become a traitor to England, regardless of who was on the throne. He rode into the lead, and Joseph moved up to his side.

  Philip wondered if Lady Beatrice would be visiting her father. They were of an age, and he had been an illiterate peasant boy until she had taught him how to read, how to dance, how to converse with ladies. Except for his accomplishments on the tiltyard, she bore much of the responsibility for her father choosing him to become a squire.

  The horses’ hooves beat a rhythm over the drawbridge. Beneath the gatehouse, the sun dimmed, but when they emerged into the inner ward, servants gathered along the path, pointing and waving, and even carrying roses. Philip glanced over his shoulder to see Anne accepting several bouquets. As she blushed prettily, he wondered if she found it difficult to accept accolades not really meant for her. It was understandable why she was beginning to feel like Lady Rosamond.

  After they reached the wide staircase that led up to the great hall, David helped Anne to the ground. As Philip dismounted, he saw Kelshall at the top of the stairs. Just seeing his old lord brought an ache of gratitude to his chest. This man had seen the potential in a blacksmith’s son who had aspired to become a soldier. He had always considered Kelshall a father and mentor more than his own, and to his surprise, he felt guilt for that.

  Kelshall came down the steps at a good pace, seeming younger than Philip had once thought. He was still spry and healthy-looking in his middle forties, although he’d lost the hair atop his head, and what was left was gray.

  When he saw Anne, he smiled and bowed to her, and she graciously gave him her hand.

  “Lady Rosamond,” Kelshall said, “how flattered I am that you decided to visit me on your great journey through England.”

  She gave her throaty laugh that never failed to remind Philip of his desire for her.

  “Lord Kelshall, I have heard much in praise of you, so of course I had to come. But I think you will be even more pleased with my visit, when I tell you that I bring with me a former ward of yours, Sir Philip Clifford.”

  Kelshall spun about to look at her knights, and when he saw Philip his face broadened in a grin. “Philip!” Kelshall came forward and hugged him, then clapped his shoulders. “How good it is to see you, lad. It has been…four years, has it not?”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  Kelshall said to Anne, “When I was returning from France, Philip decided to remain and test himself against the French knights.”

  “He is very private about his past, my lord,” Anne said.

  “He always was a modest young man,” Kelshall said with a laugh. “So, now, Philip, you are guarding Lady Rosamond on her great adventure.” He took Anne’s hand to lead her up the stairs. “You know that Philip saved my life in battle. ’Tis why I knighted him.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Philip. “Why, nay, I had not heard that.”

  Philip spread his hands and shrugged.

  In the great hall, more than one servant smiled at Philip, and though he remembered few names, he was glad to be recognized. Dinner would be served just after noon, so they were shown to bedchambers to wash away the grime of travel. When they met again outside Anne’s door, she had changed into a lovely blue gown. Not for the first time, Philip wondered at Margaret’s packing skills, to load so many gowns on one packhorse. But of course, Lady Rosamond had to look her best to capture a husband.

  Would Anne be allowed to keep those gowns, or would they return, along with her identity, to their owner? He enjoyed seeing how confident she looked in them. But of course, she had a confidence that had nothing to do with clothing. And that brought his eager mind to how confident she was without them. It was all he could do to follow in her wake as impassively as the other knights, when he really wanted to devour her with his eyes, to remove each layer a piece at a time.

  During the midday meal, Kelshall looked to the next trestle table, where Philip and the Bladesmen were seated. “Philip, over the years I have heard much of your talent as a knight. You will of course do me the honor of joining me on the tiltyard this afternoon.”

  “Surely you would rather spend time with Lady Rosamond, my lord,” Philip said.

  Kelshall glanced at Anne. “I am sure you would enjoy watching men battle in your honor.”

  She smiled. “My lord, I think I normally prefer men becoming hot and bothered over me, but this time I will make an exception.”

  A roar of approving laughter seemed to shake the beams in the ceiling.

  After the meal, Kelshall found Philip as the crowd dispersed and put an arm around his shoulder. Quietly, he said, “What think you of Lady Rosamond, Philip?”

  “She is a good and kind woman, my lord,” Philip said, cautiously.

  “I like her humor. And the mark of a good woman is that she does not need to have a man focused on her all the time. Lady Kelshall was such a woman, God rest her.”

  “I remember her fondly, my lord.”

  “My Beatrice is also the same, thank God.”

  Philip nodded. “And how is your daughter?”

  “She is well and healthy, and so is her son.”

  “She had no more children?”

  “Her husband is not a young man, but thank heavens she was able to give him an heir. Now, do you need to rest, or are you ready to pretend to challenge me?”

  Philip grinned. “I have been preparing many years for this day.” As they turned toward the double doors leading outside, he saw that Anne was far closer than he’d thought, and he wondered if she’d overheard—and what she’d concluded.

  For the next hour, Anne enjoyed herself watching Philip train amongst the fellow soldiers of his youth. She sat on a bench in the shade, admiring Lord Kelshall’s skills, and his ability to keep his men loyal to him.

  But she had not missed the reference to Lord Kelshall’s daughter, who must have grown up with Philip. Was she the kind of woman who ignored the children of her servants? With a father as generous as Lord Kelshall, it was highly unlikely anyone here had been mistreated.

  On the tiltyard, she watched Philip renew friendships with soldiers and knights, and laughed with everyone else when the captain of the guard sent Philip for water to quench his thirst, as if he were still a little boy running errands.

  But when the exercises had ended, and Lord Kelshall had gone inside to attend to business with several of his tenants, Philip walked away alone, still wearing his sleeveless leather jerkin, his arms damp with perspiration. Anne followed him at a distance, knowing that David remained behind to watch over her. But she felt safe here, in Philip’s home, and found herself praying that Lord Kelshall was not implicated in the treason. He had mentioned that he, too, would be going to London soon at the request of the king.

  To her surprise, Philip stopped outside the blacksmith’s shop and peered inside. She could see the smoke from the fire billowing up from the chimney, and heard the clang of metal on metal as the blacksmith worked. Philip appea
red lost in thought, and her curiosity finally got the better of her.

  “Philip?”

  “Aye, Countess?”

  She looked into the interior of the blacksmith shop, and could feel the heat billowing out toward her. “This place has memories for you?”

  A corner of his mouth tilted up. “My father used to work here.”

  “He was a blacksmith?” she asked in surprise. She had known his mother was a seamstress, but he’d never mentioned his father.

  “Aye.”

  “And you did not choose to go into his trade?”

  He looked down. “He wanted me to, but nay, I had my own ideas.”

  “I am certain he was not disappointed that you became a soldier.”

  “He never saw that,” he said ruefully. “He died when I had but nine years, killed in a robbery attempt.”

  She gasped. “Oh, Philip, how terrible for you and your mother.”

  He studied her. “I am going to go see the cottage where I lived until his death, so you can stay with—”

  “Would you mind if I accompany you?”

  He frowned. “It is best not to be outside the castle walls.”

  “But the village is right next to the castle! And I’m certain Walter and the others would stay nearby. Unless you do not wish it.” She wanted to see him surrounded by his past, to see the kind of boy he was.

  He studied her. “And then you’d find some excuse to test your Bladeswoman abilities to follow me.”

  She smiled, and he looked back at her, and once again, it was as if nothing else existed but the two of them, and the desire that wove them together.

  “And when you follow me,” he continued softly, huskily, “bad things happen.”

  “Do you not mean to say when you follow me?”

  He finally turned away, releasing her from his gaze. “Go tell Walter.”

  While Philip saddled their horses, she found Walter at the soldiers’ barracks and explained that she and Philip would be riding back to the village not a half-mile away.

  He frowned at her. “I will only agree to this because the village is so close. My men and I will follow you.”

  “But not too close.”

  Anne regretted those four words immediately, because Walter arched a brow at her. She quickly turned away and went back to the stables, where Philip waited for her, holding the reins of both horses.

  He glanced back at Walter. “Did he forbid us?”

  “Nay, they will follow.”

  “I thought his worry about an attack, even on Kelshall land, would keep you here.”

  “If you don’t want me to accompany you, say it now, Philip.”

  “When you and I do anything together, we never know what will happen.”

  When Anne realized that they had looked at each other for too long in a public courtyard, she turned away, but said softly, “And is that not exciting, Philip?” She stepped onto the mounting block, put her foot in the stirrup, and then slid her other leg across the saddle. She smiled at him, deliberately allowing him to see her bare calves before she shook her skirts into place.

  He looked up at her, brows lowered over blazing eyes. She tilted her head innocently.

  He mounted his own horse, and side by side, they rode out into the countryside. She urged her horse into a gallop, lying low over his neck, satisfied by how much her skill with the animal had increased on this journey. Philip caught up with her, but their mad ride was over too quickly as the village came into view between the trees. Looking over her shoulder, she could see the Bladesmen several hundred yards back, and she was faintly curious why they gave her so much freedom with Philip. She slowed as she spotted the abandoned cottage he had stared at earlier.

  He half smiled at her. “A good guess?”

  “A good deduction.”

  She slid off the horse before he could help her, and draped the reins over a scraggly bush. The thatching was gone from much of the roof, and a branch had dented another part. Philip walked to the ruined door, and it came off in his hands. When he set it to the side and went in, she followed him.

  The cottage was far smaller than what she was used to, only two rooms, with a loft above. Except for a broken crate in a corner, there was no furniture.

  “The cottage could be repaired if someone needed it,” she said. “Or perhaps the owner built a larger home.”

  “My mother couldn’t even afford this after my father died. Lady Kelshall found us a room in the castle.”

  “That was good of her.” She wanted to ask what his life had been like, but knew he would only tell her what he wanted to.

  He walked to an open window at the rear of the cottage and ducked his head to look out. “My father was disappointed when I did not want to follow his trade.”

  “Fathers always are,” she said lightly.

  “I did try. But I had so little care with his tools that I burned my calf with the point of a sword he was crafting.”

  “You must have been young.”

  He nodded and walked out the front door. She followed him around to the small yard and overgrown garden plot. He stopped at a chicken coop, with its roof caved in.

  “I used to hide in here when he was looking for me,” he said, his smile containing little amusement. “I wanted to watch the knights. When he died trying to protect us from thieves, I was embarrassed.”

  Anne said nothing as her throat tightened in sorrow for him.

  He looked out across the pastureland behind the yard. “I remember thinking so clearly that a knight would have defended himself and killed the thieves.”

  She walked to him and put a hand on his arm. “Philip, you were only a little boy. Maybe it was easier for you to feel anger rather than sadness. After all, you lost your father and your home.”

  “Kelshall Castle became my home, and I was happier there, where I could watch the men train any time I wanted.” He shrugged. “I have never told anyone this, but I guess you understand what it was like to be different than the people of the castle, to be of a class where you never expected to receive what you really wanted.”

  Anne nodded slowly, but inside, she was thinking that there was another reason he never talked about being the child of servants—because he’d risen above it, become the man he wanted to be. He’d carved out a future for himself, just like she was trying to do. For a moment, she felt a pang of sadness that their futures weren’t entwined. But she couldn’t give up her only dream in hopes that perhaps Philip would change his mind about what was driving him. Here, seeing his humble background, made her know for certain that he was driven to succeed. She didn’t want to go back to that existence where she depended upon other people for her mere survival. Now she was in charge, she controlled her own life, and it was a heady feeling.

  She dropped her hand from his arm. “Is Lord Kelshall’s daughter your age? I heard him speak to you about her.”

  “Aye. She was my friend.”

  She had suspected as much. “It is unusual for the lord’s daughter and a blacksmith’s son to be friends. She must be an unusual woman.”

  “She taught me to read. Lord Kelshall had no sons, so he decided his daughter would be as educated as any boy. And Beatrice decided that I had to be educated, too, after she found me eavesdropping on her lessons. I was her project, so she made me sit beside her in the lady’s garden, where she practiced printing her letters on her wax tablet.”

  So curious she could barely keep it from her voice, Anne murmured, “That was very good of her.”

  “When we were older, it was dancing. She had decided to turn me into a squire, which I thought was laughable. But eventually it happened, as if by magic. Then she had no reason to hide my tutoring, because it is the duty of a squire to wait on his lord. She taught me how to converse with ladies. She taught me—”

  Anne stiffened. No wonder he wanted a nobly born woman for his wife. He couldn’t have Lady Beatrice, but she was still what he was looking for. It made so much sense.

/>   He turned to face her, and suddenly he was too close, looming above her.

  “I can tell what you’re thinking,” he said. “Your pretty brain is working hard to figure out my past. Nay, Beatrice was not some experienced young lady, wanting to teach an illiterate servant about the pleasures of bed out of sheer sport. She was a frightened girl of seventeen, offered in marriage to a man old enough to be her grandfather.”

  Anne took a deep breath in sympathy.

  “The king had decreed it, to join two great families. She had been meant for the son, but he had died of the plague, and so the father took his place.”

  He watched her as if wondering what she was thinking. He reached out and touched a curl that had come loose in her hair and wound down her neck. He moved it between his fingers like a talisman. She trembled.

  “She came to me the night before her wedding,” he said in a husky voice, “and begged me to give her one good memory to keep with her in a marriage she dreaded.”

  Pain tightened Anne’s chest, as she imagined herself that frightened young girl. She had come so close to having the same thing happen to her.

  “I didn’t love her as a man should, but she was my friend, and I pitied her. So I took her to my bed. We were young and awkward and eager. And then she married someone else.”

  Chapter 15

  W hen the words left Philip’s mouth, it was as if a spell was broken. He did not see the past, only Anne, staring up at him with sympathetic eyes. He was touching her soft hair. He’d only meant to show her where he came from, to allow her to see how far he’d risen. Instead he’d told her a secret that could cost Beatrice her life.

  He cupped her face in both hands and said urgently, “You can never tell a soul what I’ve just revealed.”

  “I won’t,” she whispered. “You have my vow.”

  A single tear glistened at the corner of her eye, and without thinking, he kissed it. He hadn’t meant to make her sad.

  She swallowed. “I heard Lord Kelshall say that his daughter had given her husband his only son.”

  Philip searched her eyes, felt her sympathy as her hands clutched his waist. “He was born nine months from their wedding date. He was the only child she ever had.”