One Knight Only Read online

  What would he do if he found out that she herself had been asked to work for the League?

  Oh, she wasn’t a member yet, but by the end of this, she planned to be. She would convince them that she was talented enough to be the first Bladeswoman.

  Yet she couldn’t tell Philip anything about the League or her mission—she’d vowed to keep Lady Rosamond’s secrets.

  He suddenly leaned over the tub, bracing both hands on the rim as he looked down at her. To her frustration, a hot feeling of awareness shot through her. He’d seen more of her body, given intimate kisses that even now made her want to shudder with remembered pleasure. She forced herself to ignore the sensations.

  She couldn’t sink any lower, so she returned his stare coolly and kept her voice level. “Why are you not leaving?”

  “You know I cannot leave you here like this, masquerading as someone else.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Do not doubt my intelligence, Countess. That is what you’re pretending to be.” He pointed to her gown now hung on a peg in the wall. “Those rich garments aren’t yours.”

  She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. What would he do if he did not hear the truth? Could he accidentally ruin things for her—for Lady Rosamond? If the wrong people discovered the masquerade, then the countess could be in real danger.

  Perhaps he would accept some of the truth. She met his gaze, striving for sincerity. The water was growing cold, and it was difficult to maintain one’s composure while stifling shivers—and being stared at by a man who knew how to wield his gaze like a sensuous weapon.

  “Aye, the garments,” she said. “They belong to another woman, Lady Rosamond Wolsingham.”

  “So I was told.”

  “They know who I am in the public room?” she asked in astonishment and growing worry. “No one here was supposed to know that identity.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You chose York deliberately?”

  “Not me, I—” Then she stopped.

  “Does John—Lord Alderley—know about this?”

  She hesitated, then realized she was betraying too much. She shivered.

  He obviously noticed. Leaning even closer, he whispered, “I’ll allow you to leave the tub if you tell me everything.”

  “Are you daring me to stand up?” she asked, putting her hands on the rim as if to push herself to her feet. It was a bold gamble, but after all, she had nothing to lose, no dowry, no future, only what she made of this masquerade.

  Philip straightened, and she insisted to herself that she felt relieved.

  “You’ll catch your death lingering in there,” he said.

  “Well, whose fault—”

  “Do I have your word you’ll tell me the truth?”

  “Aye.”

  Some of it, she amended silently.

  Chapter 2

  P hilip stood above the bathing tub, staring down at Anne in the soapy water. The moment was frozen in time, her hands gripping the tub, droplets sliding from her shoulders and down to the upper slopes of her breasts, hazy in the water. He guessed she didn’t realize how much he could see, and wasn’t about to let her know. It was difficult to keep his gaze mostly on her face, when he could see the vague shadow of dusky rose nipples, and a darker shadow where her thighs met. He’d tasted her skin, had even parted those thighs, but his honesty had stopped them from having the ultimate pleasure. Since then, his desire for her had never gone away, only smoldered in the deepest recesses of his mind, waiting for this chance to come flooding back.

  “You need to turn away,” she said.

  Her gaze was demurely low as she spoke, but then she raised it to meet his unflinchingly.

  It took every ounce of strength to go to the window and look out over the dark stable yard, lit by the occasional torch. He could hear her moving about, the brush of linen as she dried herself, and the rustle of garments being donned.

  “I am now clothed,” she finally said.

  When he turned back, she was sitting before the hearth, wearing a silk dressing gown that flowed smoothly over her curves but hid her skin from him. She was brushing her hair out before the fire, spreading the heavy curls to dry them. He had never seen her hair let down, though he had dreamed of it. As a maidservant, she had to keep it out of her way to work.

  Once again he found himself fascinated by the color of her hair, so midnight black that the highlights seemed tinged with blue. Her hair was matched by her eyes, dark as well, hinting at secrets. Her hair framed her face, pale and delectable as cream, with spots of color on her cheeks and lips. Her very moist lips.

  “Will you do nothing but stare at me?” she asked quietly.

  “I am deciding what I can believe of your words.”

  “I have never lied—”

  She broke off when he quirked a brow at her. Blushing, she glanced back at the fire and continued the hypnotic brushing of her hair. He was uncomfortably aroused by her slow movements, by everything about her.

  “Very well, I’ve lied,” she continued. “But ’twas for a good purpose. I saved my lady’s life by pretending to be her, locked in the tower, so that she could move about the castle and find a way to save herself. I helped Lord Alderley—her betrothed, your friend—did I not? And you have lied as well.”

  “Aye, we both did what we had to for our friends. I, too, pretended to be someone else.”

  “You made a good clerk.”

  She smiled in that calm, smooth way that made her seem always in control, never bothered by anything. He wondered what kind of training a lady’s maid had to become like her, so talented at pretending to be above her station. He knew she’d been raised and educated at Lady Elizabeth’s side, that the two were friends more than mistress and servant. But still…there was something about Anne that just exuded confidence. And it still drew him, though he should know better.

  He walked closer, unable to help himself. With every brush of her hair, he could smell the soap she’d used. It would be so easy to forget his questions.

  Had that been her plan?

  He braced his hand on the mantel and frowned down at her. “So why are you pretending to be Lady Rosamond?”

  “Because she asked me to.”

  “You know her?”

  “She was a lady-in-waiting to Elizabeth’s mother when I was serving at the Castle Alderley.”

  “Why would a noblewoman need such a pretense?”

  Anne was watching the fire, not him, which made him even more suspicious.

  “Her reasons are her own,” she finally said. “But I am to travel to London, interviewing potential husbands along the way.”

  “Interviewing potential husbands?” he scoffed. “Surely you could not know what would please Lady Rosamond.”

  “She gave me a list.”

  “But I suspect something deeper, and I think John knows what it is.”

  She looked at him swiftly, so sincere that he was impressed.

  “Why would you think Lord Alderley is involved?”

  “Because when I asked you if he knew about this, you hesitated. Now either this has something to do with his wife, which is why he might know, or something to do with the League of the Blade, of which he is now a member.”

  Mention of the League filled the room with a tension that hadn’t been so obvious before. Philip knew he was on to something, even as Anne shook her head.

  “The League of the Blade?” she echoed.

  Her amusement was almost flawless. He was impressed despite his suspicion.

  “Aye, the League,” he answered. “They knew about your masquerade as Lady Elizabeth. Who else would have thought to ask you?”

  “Elizabeth told Lady Rosamond—”

  “Nay, Lady Elizabeth would never put you in this kind of danger willingly. This had to be something you were asked to do, and you agreed to it.”

  “’Tis a joke, a lark! Not something dangerous.”

  “Then why do you have armed guards following your every move?
Where are they now?”

  She lifted her chin in a show of stubbornness. “Their chambers are on either side of mine.”

  “So the famed Bladesmen did not hear me invade your bedchamber?”

  “Why would they think someone could come down from the roof four stories above the ground?”

  Philip simply smiled at her in triumph, and then she seemed to realize that she had not corrected his assumptions.

  “I mean the guards,” she quickly corrected herself.

  “The Bladesmen.”

  Once he would have felt a strange hollow in the center of his chest knowing that the Bladesmen had asked another person he knew to join them. Anne was certainly capable, and he did not begrudge her the opportunity. Only recently he’d finally met some of their members, had trained with them, had fought at their sides. He had thought he’d proven himself in their eyes. But although they had asked his good friend John Russell, now the earl of Alderley, to join their ranks, they had not asked Philip. Though it had been difficult, he had let his dream of membership go. He would not live his life trying to reach some mysterious standard.

  But what had the League gotten Anne involved in? Surely it could not be something innocuous.

  “So the Bladesmen are guarding you on your husband-hunting journey,” he summarized.

  She sighed, continuing the slow brushing of her hair.

  “You are impersonating Lady Rosamond at her behest, because she will not—or cannot—do it herself.”

  She only nodded.

  “I cannot believe you would accept this situation if you did not know the truth of the matter.”

  He dropped to kneel before her, so she’d be forced to look at him. Her eyes widened at his nearness, and he put his hands on her knees. There was a warmth to her that was so distracting, and he felt her trembling. He focused his thoughts.

  “What is happening, Anne? You cannot believe I would leave you in such a situation. I owe Elizabeth and John that much. I respect your skills, but I cannot understand the risks you’re taking. There are men who will take offense when they discover they’ve been misled.”

  She lifted her chin. “They won’t discover. I trained with Lady Rosamond for many days, learning her mannerisms, and how she’d behave.”

  “Such training is necessary for a joke? A lark?”

  She looked at her lap, remaining silent. He took her clenched hands in his.

  “And what about the men who expect an experienced widow? How will you handle them?”

  She pulled her hands away. “As I handle any man too forward in his behavior,” she said sternly.

  “As you handled me?”

  Glaring, she said between clenched teeth, “How dare you—” And then she broke off, taking a deep breath. “Lady Rosamond picked men she didn’t know.”

  “How could she predict how strangers will respond to you?”

  “Philip, you must stop this,” she whispered. “You will not sway me. This is too important, and they cannot do it without me.”

  “Do what?” He leaned against her knees, cupping her face in his hands. He was taking advantage of the attraction that always sparked between them, but he needed to discover the truth and keep her safe. He kept telling himself he owed that to John and Elizabeth, but something inside him knew it was more personal that. It was about Anne, and his worries that she was being taken advantage of. And what he owed her for the liberties he’d taken.

  They stared into each other’s eyes. The firelight brightened half of her face, left the other half in shadow. He could feel the pulse of her rapid heartbeat against his skin. She trembled faintly, and he stroked her skin with light touches as he held her. And then she pulled away.

  “You must not speak of this to anyone,” she whispered hoarsely.

  He nodded, finally close to understanding everything.

  “The king’s life is at stake.”

  He sat back on his heels, feeling stunned and turned upside down.

  It was her turn to reach forward, to touch his shoulder. “I need your oath, Philip, that what I speak of goes no further than this chamber.”

  “I swear you have my silence,” he said solemnly.

  “Several weeks ago, at a tournament in Durham, Lady Rosamond overheard three noblemen discussing a plot against King Henry.”

  “Were they King Richard’s men? Though Henry killed him in battle, there are still many who believe he was the rightful heir.”

  “She doesn’t know their motivations because she doesn’t know them. She saw their faces, but did not recognize them and therefore doesn’t know their names.” Anne rose to her feet and paced away from him.

  Philip slowly stood up, frowning as he considered the dilemma. To his surprise, it was difficult to concentrate while watching her walk with smooth, athletic grace, the skirts of her dressing gown undulating around her legs. She was tall for a woman, but with feminine curves in provocative proportion.

  He turned away so he could think. “So Lady Rosamond needs to relay her information to the king.”

  “And since she only saw these men, she’ll have to identify them in person.”

  “Is she in danger because they saw her?” He faced her again, eyes narrowed as he thought of what Anne had become involved with. “Are they using you to lure out these traitors?”

  “Nay!” She came to a stop, eyes wide with sincerity. “They would never put me in such danger. Lady Rosamond is certain that the traitors did not see her. They don’t know what she knows. The League doesn’t want to take any chances, so they’re escorting her to London in secret. But they don’t want her to seem to disappear, just after she announced her search for a husband.”

  “So they came to you for help.”

  She nodded, and a pleased smile softly touched her face.

  “Anne,” he murmured, coming toward her. “’Tis obvious you were glad to be asked. Your talent must have impressed them.”

  Instead of being soothed by his comment, she looked wary.

  “But do you not see how dangerous this is?” he continued. “You are out in the open, while Lady Rosamond is allowed to hide. You don’t know what these traitors know. I could have been one of them, coming right in the window, and you couldn’t have stopped me.”

  “You’re wrong, Philip. I am just here to distract people from the lady’s disappearance.”

  “They didn’t even give you a whole troop to protect you!”

  “How could they? Wouldn’t that look incredibly suspicious, and draw attention that Lady Rosamond doesn’t need?”

  “But three soldiers?”

  “Three knights, trained as Bladesmen. And it was four, but one of their number broke his leg in a fall and had to be sent home.”

  When Anne finished speaking, she could not help but remember Sir Walter’s frustration at being down a man. He had said that contacting another Bladesman would take too long. Though he had betrayed no emotion, she knew he was worried about being able to keep her protected.

  And here was Philip, a skilled knight, who’d already worked with the League.

  She almost groaned aloud at the thought of spending each day with him, risking a fall back into her behavior at Alderley, where he was all she could think about when her world was falling apart. She would not tell Sir Walter about him. She had to stay focused on her mission, on becoming a member of the League. Her foolish desire for Philip would only get in the way.

  And yet, if someone were injured or killed because they did not have enough men…

  She sighed. She would have to tell Sir Walter of Philip’s visit and leave the decision up to him. It was the correct move for a woman who wanted to prove that she could be impartial. But oh, how she hoped that Sir Walter would refuse. For if Philip was in her party, he might discover her plan to join the League. Would he try to stop her?

  “Philip, I am confident in what I’m doing,” Anne said.

  “And I’m just supposed to ignore what I’ve learned.”

  She
put a hand on his chest.

  “You gave me your vow,” she said harshly. “Do you plan to break your word and tell someone?”

  Had she misjudged him?

  “Nay, of course not. But I cannot just go on worrying about you, not knowing.”

  He certainly hadn’t worried about her when he’d been seducing her.

  “Are you staying in this inn?” she asked.

  Frowning, he nodded. “For a few more days.”

  “Then I promise I will contact you if I need to.” She took his arm and guided him to the window.

  When she would have released him, he hugged his arm close, trapping her hand against his side.

  “Anne, you know I am not simply concerned about you because of what happened between us.”

  Anger blushed her cheeks. “I know.”

  For a moment of silence, he said nothing, and she tried to remove her hand.

  He pressed it tighter to him, leaned over her. “Anne—”

  “Nay, you mustn’t,” she said angrily. “I should never have assumed that I could be more than just a willing maid to you.”

  “Anne, you weren’t—”

  “Believe me I am grateful that you had enough honor to tell me you would not marry me before we’d consummated our relationship.”

  “I didn’t feel honorable.”

  “You were honest.”

  When she’d been naked in his arms, so close to the satisfaction of joining with him, his revelation had left her feeling humiliated and furious. But when she’d fled from him and calmed down, she’d been glad to know the truth before she’d found herself in love with him—or worse.

  “I am sure you will succeed in your quest for a nobly born wife at court,” she continued impassively. She pulled her hand away from him and stepped back.

  “Would you accept my apology?” he asked.