One Knight Only Page 18

Yet she felt skittish as their parties merged. It would be so very easy to underestimate him.

  Chapter 16

  T he inn at Stamford did not have a private dining room, so Anne and Sir Robert ate together at a table in the public room. Her knights and his knights, nine of them in all, were seated at several tables they’d pushed together. Wine and ale flowed freely, and their voices rose throughout the evening. Anne kept stealing astonished glances at Walter, who was wearing a silly grin. It was that, more than anything, that convinced her that the Bladesmen were deliberately getting Sir Robert’s knights drunk. To incapacitate them for the night? she wondered. Or to see what secrets they told?

  She would discover what she could about Sir Robert.

  He smiled at her as he dipped his spoon into his chicken stew. “Lady Rosamond, you have undertaken such a long journey.”

  “’Twill be worth it in the end,” she said, picking through the thick broth.

  “Ah yes, a new husband. You must have enjoyed your first marriage.”

  Though she let a wistful expression cross her face, it was difficult to imagine the peace and security marriage might bring. “Aye, the late earl was a wonderful man. I crave that companionship again. And of what use is wealth if you cannot enjoy it with someone?”

  He laughed. “I have spent much of my life earning wealth and land, all to make a wife comfortable.”

  She hesitated. “You must have used your skills in battle well.”

  “It has been difficult these last few years with three different kings coming into power.”

  She kept smiling, while inside she felt suddenly alert.

  “I kept to myself as much as possible, doing as I was bidden. It is easy when one is only a knight, owing loyalty to another nobleman rather than simply the king himself.”

  “So you did not have to choose sides?”

  “The lord I owed my allegiance to, Lord Hungerford, had to make that decision, and luckily he chose wisely. He weathered well the change in reigns. It is about protecting one’s own property, after all.”

  “Many men are not lucky enough to align with the correct side,” she said.

  He nodded regretfully, and then changed the subject. “But tell me more about you.”

  He smiled again, charming and boyish. He seemed to have come through the wars unscathed, the sort of man who would not care who was in power. Why would such a man risk himself to overthrow a king?

  “Surely you’ve heard too much about me,” she said, smiling at him.

  “Do you play an instrument?” he asked.

  She blinked at him in surprise. “Aye, several. But my favorite is the lute.” Elizabeth used to have Anne entertain her guests, and it was the lute that kept Anne company when she’d been imprisoned in the tower.

  “We would suit well, then, because I love to dance.”

  At the other table, Philip suddenly lifted his voice in song, and for a man in his cups, he wasn’t terrible.

  Sir Robert looked askance in amusement. “And I sing, too, perhaps better than your man.”

  Anne laughed and felt Philip’s gaze on her. He had been watching her flirt with one man after another. What would he think if he knew that this time it wasn’t so difficult, that Sir Robert wanted to know more about her than the size of her property? Was Sir Robert the sort of man who would want his wife to be amusing and accomplished, yet wouldn’t care what her background was?

  The drunken knights soon grew too boisterous, and the innkeeper asked Anne and Sir Robert to put them to bed.

  Anne stood up. “And I should find my bed, too, for Sir Walter will want to begin the day early.”

  Sir Robert looked at her captain, who had his arm thrown around Philip and was staggering toward the staircase. “I think Sir Walter will not be so eager to awaken.”

  She sighed. “You don’t know him.”

  “Are you headed to London?” he asked.

  She knew he was hinting that they could travel together. “Nay, sir, we have another nobleman to visit.”

  His expression fell for a moment before he looked cheerfully resigned. “Another challenger in the battle, then.”

  “You compare my search to a battle?” she asked, smiling.

  “Perhaps not for you, but for those of us in the running, aye, it feels that way. Only this victory matters so much more.”

  She felt herself blushing. He was the first nobleman who’d reached beneath the Lady Rosamond masquerade and touched Anne herself with his sincerity.

  As Anne was preparing for bed, she heard a tap on her barred shutters. She pulled on her dressing gown, knowing it was probably a bird, or the wind. But the tapping continued, far too rhythmically, so at last she went to the window and bent her head to listen.

  “I know you’re there,” said a voice outside.

  “Philip, what are you doing out there?” she whispered.

  “Trying not to fall to my death. Might I come in?”

  She opened the shutters, then stepped back as he dropped to the floor. He straightened and looked about her small chamber, and he seemed so much bigger in this confining environment.

  “You do not look very drunk,” she said quietly, trying to distract herself from dark memories of feverish embraces. Even when she wanted to be angry with him, she lusted for him.

  “I am a master at hiding my intentions.”

  She arched a brow. “And your intentions were to see if the knights were hiding anything?”

  “They seem harmless.” He smiled. “I did not hide my intentions so well from you.”

  “Fear not, your reputation as a master spy is safe. I just know you well.”

  His smiled faded. “And I know you well, Countess. You were trying to get information from Sir Robert.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She turned away from him, but there was only one stool upon which to sit in the small chamber—and the bed. She knew better than to sit there, so she settled on the stool. “And you should go. You may have gotten permission to seduce me, but I don’t have to play along with the plot.”

  He watched her too closely, and then spoke in a soft voice. “I’m not here because of that. Your wish to join the League is commendable, but I worry that the longer you are bold Lady Rosamond, the more you believe that becoming a Bladeswoman is something you yourself control.”

  She closed her eyes and propped her head in her hands. Her first thought was to deny everything, but this was Philip, who was beginning to know her too well. “Is it so wrong to want to choose my own destiny?” she whispered.

  He knelt down in front of her, and she could see the concern in his expression.

  “’Tis only wrong if you want something that might reject you.”

  “I know you’re right,” she said tiredly. “’Tis all going to my head. I no longer even feel like a serving girl—I don’t remember the last time I helped Margaret. I watch her serve me as if it is my due.”

  He put his hands on her knees. “You are only doing what you’re supposed to. Margaret knows that.”

  “I want to be a member of the League so desperately, Philip,” she whispered. “I am determined to make this work.”

  “I wish I could say something to make this easier for you. I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

  “Life always has the possibility of disappointing us. That’s why we grab a hold of it with both hands and take what we want—or what we can get.”

  They stared at each other, faint smiles fading, desire rising. It always did between them. What was she to do about it? Just do what the League was allowing her, and take him as her lover?

  Inhaling a ragged breath, she looked away. “Sir Robert seemed sincere in his pursuit of Lady Rosamond. His knights did not act suspiciously?”

  He stood up. “Nay, they all seem to be exactly what they are.”

  “Not traitors.”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t look so, but—”

  “But you’ll take precautions.”

 
; He smiled. “Aye.”

  “I was rather amused by how Walter behaved this evening.”

  “I wasn’t. I had to practically carry him up the stairs. I think he enjoyed it a bit too much.”

  She nodded in agreement. The silence between them stretched and finally became uncomfortable.

  “I should go,” he said.

  She didn’t want him to, but she was confused enough about everything in her life. She might do something desperate and make everything worse. “Have a good night—and don’t fall.”

  He boosted himself up onto the windowsill. “Bar the shutters when I go.”

  “I will.”

  When he was gone, she leaned back against the wall, feeling her confidence fade. Philip’s words had struck something within her, but they also made her wonder—did he know so much about her feelings because he, too, was looking for a place to belong?

  There was a soft knock on the door, and she wanted to groan. What now?

  As she’d been trained, she did not open the door without first asking, “Who is it?”

  “Margaret, milady.”

  Anne opened the door to find Margaret looking up at her, and behind her, David, standing against the wall for his guard duty. She invited the maid in, thanked David for his service, and closed the door.

  Margaret smiled. “I was wonderin’ if ye wanted a bath sent for, milady.”

  Anne sat down on the edge of the bed, and patted the spot beside her. “Sit down, would you please?”

  Margaret looked confused, but did as asked.

  Anne took her hand. “I know we were both thrust into this strange situation, Margaret, but I feel that I owe you an apology.”

  The maid’s eyes widened. “Whatever for, milady? You have been nothin’ but gracious to me.”

  “Thank you for saying so, but I’m embarrassed because it has been easier and easier for me to treat you like a maid.”

  Margaret frowned in confusion. “But that’s what I am.”

  “But so am I,” Anne said softly. “I don’t even remember the last time I asked if you needed my help.”

  “But, milady, we are playin’ roles here,” she whispered. “And I was in the wrong at first, when I felt angry about bein’ here instead of with milady. ’Tis milady we are both helpin’.”

  Anne laughed. “There is enough apologizing between the both of us, I guess. So tell me, is the man you met in Doncaster going to be able to see you again?”

  Margaret nodded shyly. “Milady, he serves the household of the next lord on yer list.”

  “Really? You will have to introduce me to him.”

  “And you, milady, do ye have someone of yer own?”

  Anne opened her mouth, and then shook her head. She could hardly call Philip “her own.”

  “I heard voices in here earlier,” Margaret said slyly. “That Sir Philip is always around ye.”

  Anne waved her hand. “He is a knight, and I am a”—she lowered her voice—“maidservant. He has the chance to rise even further at court.”

  “But he wants ye, milady, in the way a man wants a woman.”

  Anne did not think her face could feel any hotter.

  “And ye want him?” Margaret continued.

  Anne could only nod.

  “Then ye should take the chance and have him.”

  She could think of no protest. She did want him.

  “Milady, it might be only a matter of time before another man insists on havin’ ye, and ye have no choice in the matter. That’s a far cry of a difference.”

  “Has that happened to you, Margaret?”

  The maidservant nodded, her face shadowed by remembered pain. The hard lines at the corners of her mouth faded as her expression cleared. “But now, me man will soon take me away and make me his in the church, before God.”

  “But why didn’t your mistress protect you?”

  “I couldn’t tell her,” Margaret said, twisting her fingers together. “’Twas her brother who wanted me, and ’twould have hurt milady fierce to know that he used me.”

  Anne sighed. “I am sorry, Margaret.”

  “Shall I bring Sir Philip to ye now, milady?”

  The maid seemed filled with excitement, as if they shared a grand adventure.

  Anne laughed. “Nay, but you could send a bath up, as you mentioned. Take word for me to Sir Philip to come to my bedchamber when his shift at my door is finished.”

  “And ye care not if the next knight sees him comin’ in?”

  “Nay, he’ll know to come secretly as he did before.”

  Margaret glanced at the window speculatively, and Anne chuckled.

  After Margaret had gone, and Anne had soaked in the tub, she was wearing her dressing gown when again someone knocked on the door. Margaret would not have told Philip already. But when she asked who it was, Philip identified himself. Frowning, she opened the door. When she saw David behind him, she gathered the neck of the dressing gown closed with discomfort.

  “Philip?”

  “Come next door with me now.”

  “But—”

  He caught her hand and pulled her forward. She glanced helplessly at David, who only followed impassively. Philip opened the door and led her inside. The chamber was already crowded with Walter and Joseph—and Sir Robert.

  All the men turned to stare at her, and she tried to be dignified as she crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing nothing under the dressing gown.

  “Philip?” Walter said.

  “She’s involved,” Philip answered. “She should hear this.”

  She looked between them all and focused on Sir Robert, who smiled at her faintly. And then she realized who he must be. She turned a questioning gaze on Walter, afraid to reveal anything aloud.

  “Aye,” Walter said heavily. “Sir Robert is a Bladesman.”

  She sank down on one of the beds in surprise. “Then by all means, do not let me interrupt you.”

  It was Sir Robert’s turn to look curiously at Walter, who said, “You may speak before her. She knows all.”

  She swallowed heavily, feeling privileged and excited, although she tempered herself, knowing that Walter had not meant her to hear this. But of course, she was not of the League—yet.

  “As I was saying,” Sir Robert said casually, smiling at Anne in a flirting manner, “we received your missive, Sir Walter. You are not the first guardians of a noblewoman to report curious happenings. Although no one else has been attacked.”

  “Except Lady Staplehill,” Philip said dryly. “And that was far beyond an attack.”

  Sir Robert’s smile faded and he nodded. “You are right, Sir Philip. I meant recently. We still have not connected that poor woman’s murder to any of this.”

  “What else has happened?” Anne asked.

  “The homes of two noblewomen were invaded mysteriously at night, but nothing was stolen. Another woman felt certain she was being watched, just as you have felt. Her husband ended up killing someone who was following them while they traveled.”

  “But the noblewoman wasn’t harmed?” Walter asked.

  Sir Robert shook his head. “But all of these women attended the Durham tournament. There is little else to report. The League believes that you should continue with your mission.”

  Anne took a deep breath and found herself watching Philip, who looked wary and resigned. But he did not say anything. Perhaps at last he trusted her decisions. She couldn’t look at him anymore, so warm were her feelings toward him. He had insisted she be kept informed as much as the members of the League. She wanted to reward Philip right now, but restrained herself from dragging him to her bedchamber.

  “My thanks for your information,” Walter said, as Sir Robert walked to the door.

  Anne smiled at him. “And good luck in your search for a wife—if that was true.”

  His gaze was appreciative as he looked briefly down her scantily clad body. “’Tis true.” Then he glanced at Philip, and touched his hat as he departed.


  Anne gritted her teeth. Was their relationship as palpable as a scent in the air?

  Walter was watching her, and she stood up.

  “My thanks for allowing me to participate,” she said, though he well knew he was not the one to thank.

  He only inclined his head. Without looking at Philip, Anne allowed David to lead her back to her bedchamber.

  Philip had the shift after David, and he walked the long corridor to keep awake. He could hear loud snoring from the occasional chamber, but behind Anne’s door was silence.

  A door opened as he passed by, and he turned quickly, only to find Margaret clutching a dressing gown closed at her throat and yawning.

  She looked up and down the corridor, then whispered, “Sir Philip, milady asked me to tell ye this message. She wants ye to come to her when yer duty is over.”

  “She has something more to speak to me about?”

  Margaret shrugged. “It is not fer me to know such things. Good night.”

  Well, at least he had enough to think about to keep him awake. He spent the rest of his shift painfully aroused.

  When Joseph relieved him, Philip went into his chamber, but did not close the door all the way. He could hear Walter breathing deeply, evenly. Keeping his ear to the door, he listened as Joseph paced. When the knight turned and walked away, back down the long corridor, Philip stepped outside his door, closed it silently, and ducked around the corner before Joseph could see him. The most difficult part of his journey was over.

  After climbing down from the roof, he found Anne’s shutters unbarred. He was able to open them, slide inside, and drop to the floor. A single candle burned in its holder on the small table, not two paces away from the bed.

  In the gloom he saw the shape of Anne beneath the covers, the mound of her hip as she lay on her side, facing the wall. She was covered all the way up to the crown of her head, as if she were cold. He wondered what she wore to bed, and then immediately berated himself.

  He would not wake her up. Whatever she had to say would wait until morning.

  Just as he took a step back to the window, she whispered, “Philip?”

  He froze. Her voice sounded deep and sleepy, with that huskiness that always made the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention.